Ah, spring — that magical time of year when a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of ice cream.  And love, I guess, but my wife just gave birth a couple of months ago after a difficult pregnancy, so I’ve been strongly advised to just stick with the ice cream.  Fair enough.

As they’re wont to do, Ben & Jerry have put down their bong and unleashed some new flavors on us.  This time it’s with a valuable social message, encouraging everyone to volunteer in their communities, complete with a website link on the carton to find volunteering opportunities near you.  But not so fast, Walmart shoppers… these are Target exclusive.  Each carton even includes a “Together for Volunteerism” sticker with one of B&J’s cows (also known as “a cow”) posing next to the Target dog, which always looks to me like Spuds MacKenzie passed out and his friends drew a bullseye on his face.  (If you’re too young to know who Spuds MacKenzie is, I hate you.)  Said exclusivity wasn’t any problem for me, but if you live in a Footloose-esque rural community too small or remote to play host to a Tar-jay, you’re out of luck.  Please accept my sympathy, as I try to recall which of the three nearby Targets I bought these from.

Speaking of which, apparently by purchasing this ice cream I’m reaping the benefits of Fair Trade Certified cocoa and coffee.  I’m not at all politically minded and lack the time to watch The Daily Show anymore, so I’m not sure if that means I’m tacitly supporting equitable trade practices or funding Trump 2012.  From what I know of Ben and Jerry, presumably it’s some hippie thing, but as long as I don’t have to give up meat or start wearing Birkenstocks, I’m fine with it.  Of course, the other thing Ben and Jerry are known for is inserting puns into their ice cream names, and these are no exception.  Volun-Tiramisu is almost a little TOO on the nose, but it works.  On the other hand, “Peanut Butter World” confuses me.  After some thought, I decided maybe the implication is that volunteerism will lead to a better world, and “butter” sounds kind of like “better,” so… yeah?  If that’s the case, I have to say they’re really reaching.  Of course, it’s possible all of you got it immediately and can’t imagine how it wasn’t obvious to me from the beginning.  Like how I didn’t realize those “Every kiss begins with Kay” commercials are making a pun about the actual letter “k” until I heard it on a radio show’s “things you just figured out” segment.  It’s embarrassing to find yourself in the same company as people who only just realized why it’s called a QWERTY keyboard.

I was slightly leery of the Peanut Butter World before digging in because peanut butter and I have an understanding: if it brings its friend chocolate, they’re both welcome in my mouth, but I’ve never been willing to buy seats for PB’s solo act.  Turns out I needn’t have worried, as this flavor is composed of really creamy, decadent chocolate with peanut butter swirls in it, along with some chocolate cookie bits.  It’s kind of like eating a cold, liquidy Reese’s peanut butter cup that someone has coated with crumbled Oreos, only way more rich than any Reese’s could ever be.  It is also insanely unhealthy — after a half dozen spoonfuls, I felt suddenly motivated to name my heirs and divvy up my worldly possessions — but that’s the price you pay for supporting a good cause.  At least that’s what I’m telling myself, and you should too.  In any event, it’s worth it, because this is some seriously good ice cream.  There’s just enough peanut butter to remind you it’s there without being overpowering, while the chocolate is definitely dominant.

If I was nervous about the Peanut Butter World, I had no idea what to expect from the Volun-Tiramisu.  Tiramisu is such a unique flavor, and I’ve never been the world’s biggest coffee drinker.  But like the peanut butter above, the coffee was noticeable but subdued, enough to make you aware of its presence without taking over.  And I wouldn’t have been able to spell “mascarpone” before buying this ice cream, let alone tell you what it tasted like, but it turns out it’s good, very light and lingering in contrast to the heaviness of the Peanut Butter World.  The carton also proclaims that it has a cocoa dusting, but I wasn’t able to detect any traces of it.  I also don’t think there’s any actual rum in it, although since I was drinking a beer at the same time, I can’t be sure of that.  However, while it was definitely good, a little went a long way.  I’d had my fill after a few spoonfuls, whereas if it weren’t for self-control and shame, I could have easily polished off a pint of Peanut Butter World in one sitting.  That might actually be a plus for Volun-Tiramisu in the sense of aiding your portion control, since while it’s not as bad for you as its partner, it’s not exactly making you thinner with every bite either.

All in all I was pleased with Ben & Jerry’s latest, exclusive offerings.  They’re both tasty, I’m pretty sure Target is slightly less evil than some of the other big box stores, and of course I’m all for encouraging volunteerism.  In a way, anyone who reads this review and decides to buy a pint is supporting volunteerism because of something I did, so hey — you’re welcome, B&J.  I’ll expect the check in the mail.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/2 cup – Peanut Butter World – 330 calories, 22 grams of total fat, 8 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 35 milligrams of cholesterol, 140 milligrams of sodium, 28 grams of total carbohydrates, 21 grams of sugar, 7 grams of protein. Volun-Tiramisu – 230 calories, 12 grams of total fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 65 milligrams of cholesterol, 60 milligrams of sodium, 28 grams of total carbohydrates, 23 grams of sugar, 4 grams of protein.)

Other Ben & Jerry’s Peanut Butter World and Ben & Jerry’s Volun-Tiramisu reviews:
On Second Scoop – Volun-Tiramisu & Peanut Butter World
Castles and Cooks

Item: Ben & Jerry’s Peanut Butter World and Ben & Jerry’s Volun-Tiramisu
Price: $3.49 each
Size: 1 pint
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 9 out of 10 (Peanut Butter World)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Volun-Tiramisu)
Pros: Saving the world, one fat ass at a time.  Mascot synergy.  Your peanut butter in my chocolate.  Mascarpone.  Heavy chocolate, light tiramisu.  Ice cream that portion controls itself.  Pimping volunteerism.
Cons: Inscrutable puns.  Carton makes me feel guilty for not volunteering lately.  Failing to comprehend simple ad campaigns.  Need to be doing strenuous volunteer work to burn off all the calories.  Possibly bankrolling Trump 2012.

When I stumbled upon the newest addition to Keebler’s Wheatables line, my first thought was “Finally! Someone has tapped into the sorely neglected yet obviously lucrative grey squirrel market!” I’m serious. My brain operates in strange and fascinating ways. I am afraid of word association exercises and what horrors they might reveal about my psyche.

The Toasted Pecan Nut Crisps were strategically placed on the top row of shelves in the snack aisle. That’s a horrible position for attracting the bulk of the snacking population, but it’s prime squirrel territory, provided my local grocery store starts accepting tree-dwelling rodents as valid customers.

Keebler’s foray into the nut-gatherer segment of the population actually makes sense when you think about it. Of course the tree-dwelling elf company would be among the first to respond to the outcry of squirrels frustrated and bored with the usual range of stale mixed nuts offered up by their overly gregarious, primarily elderly suppliers. I think we can all agree that no self-respecting modern urban squirrel actually goes out foraging among the trees anymore.

Back at my alma mater we had squirrels on the main quad that survived solely on McDonald’s scraps and the adoration of the student body. It was damn near impossible to enjoy a Nature Valley bar in the shade of majestic maple tree on a warm spring day without the little guys circling like vultures, ever tighter, ever closer, chattering expectantly. San Diego’s omni-sunny, seasonless climate makes things all the worse by eliminating the need to hibernate and stockpile. It was only a matter of time before our local rodent friends evolved from hunter-gathering to lounging in little eucalyptus hammocks, munching on acorn-blasted goldfish and googling all sorts of disturbing variations of the phrase “huge savory nuts”.

At first whiff, the crisps smell like Honey Bunches of Oats with a twinge of maple syrup. Each one is rife with pecan flecks and salt crystals. I’m left with a fine nutty/salty dust coating my fingertips, making this a decent option for all those grading their snacks on the Doritos scale of puzzling powder-based messiness.

The flavor is buttery, with prominent pecan, and just a hint of salt. Think pecan French toast, only crispier, like a standard, non-amazing Wheatable. This threw my best friend into a state of existential confusion. She very much likes to categorize, organize, and keep things neat. The nut crisps shattered that careful order in just one bite.

They aren’t really crackers – too sweet. Their hexagonal shape disqualifies them from any special animal cracker exemptions. They certainly wouldn’t qualify as a cookie either, as they’re too flat and crispy. They’re far too nutritionally deficient to pass as breakfast in any but the most desperate of circumstances, yet every fabric of their being practically screams “GOOD MORNING!” from the moment one opens the box. Even the good elves of Keebler seem unable to decide what to make of this monster. The box tentatively labels them as crackers in tiny print below the giant “nut crisps” banner. So they’re crisp cracker snacks? I guess?

If you’re able to get past that philosophical quandary and dive into a box with no regard for labeling, the Nut Crisps are quite delicious and addictive snack… thingies. They apparently also come in almond, but as a former Midwesterner looking to regain some of the street cred I lost in the Popeye’s fiasco, I only bothered to hunt down the buttery goodness of pecans.

(Nutrition Facts – 16 crackers – 140 calories, 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 3.5 grams polyunsaturated fat, 2 grams monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 200 milligrams of sodium, 20 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, 0% vitamin A, 0% calcium, 0% vitamin C, and 6% iron.)

Item: Keebler Wheatables Toasted Pecan Nut Crisps

Price: $3.59

Size: 8.5 ounces

Purchased at: Albertson’s

Rating: 9 out of 10

Pros: Addresses the plight of bored urban squirrels. Tastes like honey bunches of hexagons. Peh-cahns. Good random snack. The Doritos powdery coating scale. Brimming with sunshine and cheeriness.
Cons: Suffers from an identity crisis. Possibly promotes squirrel obesity. Pecan dust never goes away. Makes a very sad stand alone breakfast and an even sadder lunch. Pee-cans. Failing a word association test. Stale mixed nuts.

Raisins are the dark, shriveled Post-It Notes that remind me what happens if I spend too much time in the sun without sunscreen. So I like to have raisins around in the forms of Raisin Bran, Raisinets, and, of course, plain Sun-Maid raisins to ensure I put on some SPF before I go out to do a bit of nude sunbathing.

Thankfully, the folks at Post have given me something new to help remind me to rub on some sun protection — Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley.

The latest Honey Bunches of Oats variety is made up of multi-grain flakes, oat clusters, a touch of honey, and three kinds of raisins. What are the three types of raisins included? Well, in the ingredients list, the three are lumped together into the generic term “raisins.” However, without using any knowledge I gained from my Journalism 151 in college, which I earned a D in, I learned the cereal has three different types of raisins — natural seedless, jumbo seedless, and flame (red grapes).

Basically, Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley tastes almost like what would happen if you were really bored and decided to separate a box of raisin bran into raisins and bran flakes, and then throw the raisins into a box of Honey Bunches of Oats Honey Roasted cereal and feed the bran flakes to the birds that hang out near the car of someone you do not like.

Oh wait, that wasn’t very basic. But this is: Post Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley is damn good.

The multi-grain flakes and oat clusters bring the crunchy, while the raisins bring the chewy. Although, the flakes in Honey Bunches of Oats are notorious for getting soggy quickly, but the oat clusters don’t and they provide a nice crunch when the flakes get milklogged. There were a lot of plump raisins in the box I purchased, and while eating through the box one bowl at a time, I found that most of my spoonfuls had a raisin in it. The three types of raisins pretty much look and taste the same, but that’s fine with me. However, all is not perfect with this cereal. I do wish it was a little sweeter and that instead of having a touch of honey, it had an inappropriate fondling of honey.

Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley is now my favorite Honey Bunches of Oats variety, and it might be one of my favorite cereals of all time. No, Post is not paying me to say that, although if they were willing to pay me for saying that, I’d gladly accept a check made out to “Cash” in an amount somewhere in the neighborhood of $100,000 and the $2.99 I paid for the box.

Personally, I don’t why this marriage between cereal and raisins didn’t happen sooner because Honey Bunches of Oats have been around for over two decades and raisins have been around since someone got drunk on wine and left grapes out in the sun.

During those years of not having Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley, I’ve had to tolerate lame attempts at combining Honey Bunches of Oats with fruits, like Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Strawberries, Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Bananas, and Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Peaches. I have so much disdain for those varieties that they’ve made me want to throw some Honey Punches of Oats at Sugar Bear’s Grape Nuts.

Although I’ve had to wait for it, Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley was worth it.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 cup (cereal only) – 200 calories, 20 calories from fat, 2 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 200 milligrams of sodium, 120 milligrams of potassium, 42 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 14 grams of sugar, 26 grams of other carbohydrates, 3 grams of protein, and a bunch of vitamins and minerals.)

Other Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley reviews:
Pegasus News

Item: Post Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley
Price: $2.99 (on sale)
Size: 17 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Awesome combination of Honey Bunches of Oats and raisins. My favorite Honey Bunches of Oats variety. Lots of raisins. Being the number one Google result for the phrase “Honey Punches of Oats.” Contains a bunch of vitamins and minerals. Sunscreen.
Cons: Could’ve had a little bit more honey flavor. Getting a D in Journalism 151. Didn’t come out sooner. No real taste difference between the three types of raisins. Feeding birds bran flakes. Sunburn.

I basically picked up the two new varieties of Kellogg’s Crunchy Nut cereal (Roasted Nut & Honey O’s and Golden Honey Nut Flakes) because the boxes just made Kellogg’s seem so desperate. I figured that, based on the rebate offer covering half the front of the Golden Honey Nut Flakes box and the large coupon plastered on the side of both varieties, these things had to be either the best kept secret in the whole flippin’ breakfast aisle or some sort of unmentionable abomination created by the CEO’s nephew. As usual, my curiosity outweighed my gnawing suspicions. I still have my qualms about Kellogg’s calling the peanut-bedazzled cereals “nutty” and not “legumey”, but I’m willing to let that rest. There are bigger fish to fry here. Honey-peanut-molasses fish.

I had heard next to nothing about these cereals until they practically jumped out at me from the shelves. Hell, the product website even failed to locate either variety within a thirty mile radius of my zip code for some odd reason. I have my theories on this simultaneous lack of marketing and desperate push for acceptance. Perhaps they’re a failed vehicle for some early-90’s kids TV show. I imagine them as rebranded Slappy the Squirrel cereals from a never realized Animaniacs spin-off concept, found in a repossessed storage locker somewhere, still sealed and intact thanks to scads of preservatives.

I think part of the problem is that both varieties taste so gimmicky-sweet, so inherently child-friendly. But where are the goofy characters — the tigers, toucans, and Quisps – with their insatiable draw and plush dolls for bar codes offer? Why isn’t there a maze on the back?

This isn’t your average adult cereal, either. There are no berries, no gourmet Georgia pecans, no multi-grain wholesomely fortified goji oat nuggets. Nowhere is heart health even mentioned. They don’t even tout the fact that the O’s are HFCS-free, though this is perhaps a ploy to keep us from noticing that the flakes conspicuously aren’t. In any case, real sugar, molasses, and honey take top billing. Aside from the vitamin additives, the ingredient list is fairly short and brimming with various states of run-of-the-mill ground corn (It’s okay to hate me for that one).

I expected to taste Corn Flakes and Cheerios, respectively, with peanuts stuck all over them. What I got was a Cracker Jack laden nostalgia trip back to lil’ lassie softball and family game nights past. Sadly, both cereals lacked a cheap prize to fight over and retrieve from mom’s hiding spot on top of the refrigerator in the middle of the night. On the bright side, I wasn’t picking little popcorn husks off my back teeth days later.

The O’s tasted both puffy and crispy, like coated rice cakes. They in no way actually resembled Cheerios. My brief disappointment gave way to delight when I introduced them to milk, however. The O’s stayed crunchy for a good while, unlike the flakes, which reached Soggyville far too soon.

I am easily distracted, especially in the mornings. I have a habit of pouring a bowl of cereal and then running off to put in forgotten contacts or hunt for sunglasses. I therefore require industrial levels of steadfast crunchiness. I’m always impressed when any cereal manages to hold up to my unreasonable standards. Eaten dry, the O’s taste a little bland, while the flakes become quite addictive, exactly like Cracker Jack.

At first, I wondered to myself why Cracker Jack doesn’t have a cereal line, and then, with horror, I thought maybe this was supposed to be that cereal line, once upon a time, possibly in the dot com era, back when anything was possible. If these cereals are, in fact, resurrected failures, they must’ve just been ignored by marketing people too entranced by their Tigers, because, beyond the identity crisis, both varieties are pretty gr-r-reat.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a one-way ticket to the mysterious Soggyville and the train is boarding.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup – Golden Honey Nut Flakes – 120 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 40 milligrams of potassium, 26 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 11 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein and a bunch of vitamins and minerals. Roasted Nut & Honey O’s – 100 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 gram of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 125 milligrams of sodium, 25 milligrams of potassium, 23 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 10 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein and a bunch of vitamins and minerals.)

Other Kellogg’s Crunchy Nut Cereal reviews:
Yum Yucky

Item: Kellogg’s Crunchy Nut Cereal (Roasted Nut & Honey O’s and Golden Honey Nut Flakes)
Price: $2.50 each (on sale – was $4.89)
Size: 10.8 ounces (Roasted Nut & Honey O’s)
Size: 14.1 ounces (Golden Honey Nut Flakes)
Purchased at: Albertson’s
Rating: 9 out of 10 (Roasted Nut & Honey O’s)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Golden Honey Nut Flakes)
Pros: Ever-crunchy rings. Slappy the Squirrel hawking cereal. Cracker Jack for breakfast. The early dot com era, when everything was possible. Very snack-worthy throughout the day. Fairly health-conscious choice for sweet cereal lovers. No popcorn husks.
Cons: No prize. Flakes seemed to have pre-booked their tickets to Soggyville. No mazes. Rings dependent on milk for maximum deliciousness. Rampant family game night cheating. No healthy nuggets. Decade-old Cracker Jacks for breakfast. No adorable mascot. Weird softball league groupings.

January needs to be re-named “National Feel-Bad-About-What-You’ve-Done-To-Your-Body-The-Past-90-Days Month.” With all the commercials for Zumba, The Lap-Band, free gym membership trials, and conveniently-placed banner ads referring you to the “Top 10 Best Ways to Bust Your Booty,” it’s a wonder we don’t all suddenly gain 120 pounds from guilt and start rolling ourselves down the street to work each day. Why do we engage in this bizarre ritual of kidding ourselves every year when all anyone wants to do is eat yummy food and feel convinced that if they ran into Tom Hardy on the way to the Laundromat with their filthy socks and scads of unmentionables piled in a basket and their baggy, faded sweatpants on, he’d still give them the sexy-eye because daaaamn, they look good?

To combat the inevitable struggle of many of those hoping to shed pounds, the Amy’s team has done a pretty great job here, translating these normally fattening foods into the language of diet organic cuisine. Filling out the roster of new items: Spinach Lasagna, Black Bean & Cheese Enchilada, Pasta & Veggies, and Soft Taco Fiesta.

I went for the Soft Taco Fiesta first because I’d just bought a piñata and needed a reason to bust it open. No, I’m lying. I didn’t need a reason.

The colors used for the soft taco’s packaging are pretty muted for something that’s supposed to evoke a wild food party. The design is more circa 1990 Southwest Adobe-style retiree living room, and I felt more like taking a siesta than having a fiesta. WOCKA-WOCKA-WOCKA! No? Go to hell.

I have to say that once cooked, the contents of the bowl look pretty N-to-the-Asty. But, you see, this soft taco contraption is more like a taco pie without the crust than a street taco. The corn tortilla is layered between a mound of mild salsa with black beans and cheese and a bed of nicely-seasoned brown rice, corn, and vegetables. As a result, the tortilla isn’t necessarily firm, but it could be a lot worse. It doesn’t disintegrate under the weight of the sauce and seasonings. The ranchero salsa flavor is spicy, but not overpowering, and mingles nicely with the tomatillo blend. The result is a dish that has plenty of flavor and barely any of the sogginess one comes to expect from nuked Mexican food.

The Pasta & Veggies bowl is another convincing re-design of a popular ethnic food – thick, hearty sauce and grated parmesan cheese accompany a pretty filling bowl of rotini, crunchy asparagus, broccoli florets, and shallots, for fewer calories. Similar to the somewhat-robust tortilla in the Fiesta bowl, the noodles retain a nice texture and come out, as the Italians say, al dente. That’s right. I just got all Rosetta Stone on that azz. Another plus: there doesn’t appear to be any excess water at the bottom of the bowl after cooking, which tends to happen a lot with frozen pasta meals.

The ultra-literal name isn’t really something I can get behind, since it’s clearly pasta marinara in there… but, hey, if slapping the word “Veggies” on the box in order to align with the company mission statement – creating healthy, organic, vegetarian meals by any means necessary or something like that – helps you sleep at night, then go for it, Amy’s.

Though it also suffers from the same yawn-worthy pastel color scheme that turned my awesome personal taco party into a sober and mature taco observance, the Pasta & Veggie bowl’s flavor is kick-ass. I was shocked – SHOCKED to actually taste the parmesan cheese. So many of these so-called “diet” items really skimp on important accents such as cheese, but the Pasta & Veggies meal delivered. It tasted like the real thing, not some limp, flavorless imitation.

If National Freak-Out Month (January) is gonna be tough for you because you inhaled a metric shit-ton of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and mini Snickers bars in October, followed by plates and plates of cornbread stuffing and mashed potatoes coated in gravy in November, and then topped it all off with frosted Snowman cookies, latkes and gallons of egg nog in December, don’t throw yourself under the Little Debbie snack cake delivery truck just yet. There is hope, little plump one. Delicious hope.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 bowl/227 grams – Soft Taco Fiesta – 220 calories, 40 calories from fat, 4.5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 560 milligrams of sodium, 40 grams of carbohydrates, 5 grams of fiber, 6 grams of sugar and 7 grams of protein. Pasta & Veggies – 210 calories, 45 calories from fat, 5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 470 milligrams of sodium, 33 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 3 grams of sugar and 10 grams of protein.)

Item: Amy’s Light & Lean (Soft Taco Fiesta and Pasta & Veggie)
Price: $3.00 (on sale)
Size: 8 ounces
Purchased at: Vons
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Soft Taco Fiesta)
Rating: 9 out of 10 (Pasta & Veggie Bowl)
Pros: Tastes like the real thing. Tom Hardy. Low-fat/low-cal. Piñatas. Fozzie Bear.
Cons: Looking like a hot mess on laundry day. “Veggie.” Grandma’s condo in Santa Fe. The Lap Band.

Ordering the McDonald’s Fruit & Maple Oatmeal via the drive-thru at my local McDonald’s made me feel like I was in an alternate universe, where McDonald’s brags about being fresh and healthy, while Subway has a fat Jared Fogle dressed up as a clown as their spokesperson.

Oatmeal on the McDonald’s menu board looks out of place, like a fish out of water or the white member of The Roots.

I know McDonald’s has other “healthy” fare, like their fruit parfait and Fruit & Walnut Salad, but oatmeal is in the upper echelon of healthy eating. Basically, its wholesomeness does the opposite of what most McDonald’s food does. It’s been shown to help lower blood pressure, control weight, and reduce the risk for type 2 diabetes. The fiber in oatmeal helps get rid of the bad cholesterol in the body and makes holding in farts more difficult.

The addition of the Fruit & Maple Oatmeal to the fast food giant’s menu looks like another attempt to be like Starbucks, which has been selling oatmeal for a while. I can understand the appeal of a powerful entity trying to be even more powerful, since I occasionally like put on some big women’s sunglasses to see things though the eyes of Kim Jong-il.

But the question that arises is whether or not you can trust McDonald’s with oatmeal. Are they Boy Scout trustworthy or as trustworthy as a random audience member yelling random numbers at you as you stand on a stage figuring out the value of a Price Is Right’s Showcase that consists of a jet ski, a trip to the Bahamas, a sailboat and a Ford Mustang convertible?

After trying the Fruit & Maple Oatmeal, I believe you can trust McDonald’s.

Sure, the pictures above look like a pretentious health nut douchebag threw up into a cup after some detox treatment, but I assure you it’s not. If the oatmeal didn’t come with so much liquid, it wouldn’t look the way it does. Personally, I prefer my oatmeal to be a bit thicker.

Although I had mine with brown sugar (you can order it without), I didn’t think the oatmeal was overly sweet.

There’s an assortment of fruits with the whole grain rolled oats: diced green and red apples, dried sweetened cranberries, California raisins and golden raisins. They provide a wide variety of flavors and textures to go along with the soft oatmeal. There’s an ample amount of fruits, which ensures that there’s something in each spoonful.

Overall, I think the McDonald’s Fruit & Maple Oatmeal is a winner and I definitely see myself buying it on a regular basis. Its flavor easily makes most packets of instant oatmeal seem like dull mush. Its warmth is nice during these cold months here on this rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Plus, I think it’s hearty enough that it could be a meal by itself.

If McDonald’s keeps releasing more healthier products, I wonder if our universe will end up being the alternate one.

Whoa! I just totally blew my mind.

(Nutrition Facts – 9.2 ounces with brown sugar – 290 calories, 40 calories from fat, 4.5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 57 grams of carbohydrates, 5 grams of fiber, 32 grams of sugar, 5 grams of protein, 2% vitamin A, 130% vitamin C, 10% calcium and 10% iron.)

Other McDonald’s Fruit & Maple Oatmeal reviews:
Dave’s Cupboard
Grub Grade
Foodette Reviews

Item: McDonald’s Fruit & Maple Oatmeal
Price: $2.49
Size: 9.2 ounces
Purchased at: McDonald’s
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Really good. Right amount of sweetness. Available throughout the day. Lots of fruits. Decent source of fiber. Winning both Price Is Right Showcases. Hearty. Excellent source of vitamin C. The Roots.
Cons: Too much liquid for me. 32 grams of sugar. Getting oatmeal from McDonald’s seems weird. Putting on women’s sunglasses to seeing the world through Kim Jong-il’s eyes. Fiber makes holding in farts harder.