REVIEW: Post Honey Bunches of Oats Greek Honey Crunch

Honey Bunches of Oats Greek Honey Crunch

Honey Bunches of Oats are the sweatpants of the cereal world. The comfy ones that you wore just about every day in college/high school that are now kinda faded and torn and orange from that time you put too much bleach in the washer, and your mom keeps telling you to throw them out, but you never will (“We’ve been through too much together!”).

They’re simple, no-fuss, and as basic as they are beloved, and it was with that in mind that I yoinked this shining blue beacon of Bunches from a Target shelf for review.

For the uninitiated, Honey Bunches of Oats is a blend of flakes and oaty clusters that came to the public consciousness in the prime of the late 80s at a time of big hair, cheap lip balm, and Apple computers.

Since then, variations on the classic have surfaced, some for a limited time, and others, sticking around for permanent residence on store shelves. And it seems Post really wants to put a good run for this Greek Honey blend, which holds tight to the classic flakes while replacing the traditional cluster with a not one, but two yogurt-inspired clusters: one uncoated and one coated in palm oil and powdered Greek yogurt cultures, which sounds like a sea monster from a B-level horror flick…

But all fears of being eaten by powdered cultures are pushed aside as, upon breaking open that nitrogen-infused baggie, it smells of sugar, BHT, and confidence.

Honey Bunches of Oats Greek Honey Crunch Bag

If this were a car show for Honey Bunches of Oats, this would be the pimped up purple sports car with no muffler, chrome rims, and Superman wheels called the Boom Shacka-Lacka.

Whatever those powdered cultures are, they sure do taste good. Although there’s not much of the trademark sour-cream-like tang I find in real Greek yogurt, the clusters, both coated and uncoated, nail a special fake-vanilla-and-honey sweetness. The coating tastes a bit like a less-sweet Oreo frosting, which is certainly nothing to complain about, but it can get overpowering after a while. The clusters themselves are dense and lovable, even if they’re far too sparse and a little small. They somewhat remind me of amoebas.

Honey Bunches of Oats Greek Honey Crunch 2 Clusters

I was tickled to find that some of the coated clusters were smooshed. Smooshed clusters are the cereal embodiment of rebellion: the cluster escapee that somehow snuck through factory inspection and made it in. The more smooshed clusters, the better…which makes me think it’d be cool if Post [or any other cereal company, for that matter] composed a cereal called “Mistakes” in which they put all their conjoined/too big/funky looking/otherwise rejected chunks of cereal in one bucket.

Honey Bunches of Oats Greek Honey Crunch Mucho Cluster

I mean, just look at the towering fella on the left: he’s got personality.

But strongly opinionated product development suggestions aside, the flakes remain true to the classic, tasting more of straight sugar than floral honey, and hold a trademark crisp. For cereal analysts, they’re less dense than the flake you’ll find in Smart Start or even Special K, and are quite similar to the flakes in their main competitor, General Mills Honey Nut Clusters. At times, I would argue these flakes are wimpy (and they really show it when put in milk for more than 1 minute and 48 seconds), but, when dry, they taste of crisp honey-wheat shavings and offer a contrast to the denser granola. It makes it easy to eat a whole bag and provides a roller coaster for your teeth, which fills a niche as there’s really a lack of dental-themed roller coasters. Such a shame.

Honey Bunches of Oats Greek Honey Crunch Bowl

Some days you need to sit on your rump and watch a movie marathon. Other days, you need to whip out the power drill and repair your roof. It is on the latter of these days that you’ll need a breakfast with a lot of energy, and these Honey Bunches have you covered. With 230 calories, 47 grams of carbohydrates, and 13 grams of sugary goodness, you’ll have enough whole-wheat-and-sugar spunk to hammer your roof and probably your neighbor’s as well, so bring out the tool kit and your M.C. Hammer mix tape. It’s hammer time.

On the whole, this cereal’s sweet enough to make an angry raccoon tap dance on the ceiling. For a sweet tooth like mine, that’s a good thing. At the same time, this blend has far too few clusters and lacks the woodsiness provided by the cinnamon/pecans/toasted oats of other bunches that usually sets off that sharp fructose sweetness. I miss that.

But, overall, I have no regrets. Sweetness makes angry raccoons [and me] wanna dance and, at the end of the day, don’t we all need a good dance?

Yes, yes we do. So thank you, Post, for encouraging us to get out and dance.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 cup/58 g – 230 calories, 30 calories from fat, 3.5 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 140 milligrams of potassium, 47 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of dietary fiber, 13 grams of sugars, and 5 grams of protein.)

Other Honey Bunches of Oats Greek Honey Crunch reviews:
Option Pitch and Waffle Crisp

Item: Post Honey Bunches of Oats Greek Honey Crunch
Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: 15.5 oz. box
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Two types of clusters. Some clusters are smooshed. Yogurt coating tastes close to Oreo frosting. Great for eating dry. Makes angry raccoons dance. Boom Shacka-Lacka. Hammer time.
Cons: Lots of wimpy, crushed flakes. Not enough clusters. Can get too sweet. Holds up poorly in milk. Powdered yogurt cultures eating my brain. A lack of dental-themed roller coasters. Emotional connections to sweatpants.

REVIEW: Crystal Light Liquid Strawberry Lemonade

Crystal Light Liquid Strawberry Lemonade

I imagine Shakespeare was a connoisseur of lemonade.

Why, if he were around right now, he’d probably say something like, “Oh, ye citrus beverage of my youth, why do I crave for thee in the bitter of winter?” Then, he’d probably sit down and write a sonnet, maybe pull out some iambic pentameter. I dunno, but I do know that, if his love for lemonade were true, he, like me, would’ve been tickled to see that one of Crystal Light’s newest ventures came in the form of strawberry lemonade.

Gotta give it to Crystal Light: they’re game for innovation. Every time I pass the powdered drink aisle, there’s a new flavor: Mango Passionfruit, Cherry Pomegranate, Snozzberry (oh, wait, I don’t think that last one’s been done yet. Can they get on that?).

While the notion of portable, squeezy liquid concentrates isn’t the newest thing on the block, Crystal Light’s always experimenting with uncharted territory flavors that don’t threaten to decay my bicuspids or sag my rump. I don’t know if all this flavor experimentation is admirable, but it is risky, and I respect a company willing to haggle with the Devils of Downfall.

The design of these little buggers is fetching in that short-and-curved kinda way. At the same time, it somewhat reminds me of a mini robot alien sent to Earth to bring the galactic armada tumbling upon us.

Crystal Light Liquid Strawberry Lemonade Flip Top

“Take me to your leader.”

Upon flipping open the cap, the smell is magical enough, with hints of lemon drops, artificial strawberry, and maybe something fruit punchy.

The recommended serving is “1 squeeze” for 8 ounces, so I shook the contents to make sure the flavors were distributed, gave it a solid squeeze, and watched as the color poofed out with a sort of pink lava-lamp glow, a color that disperses itself upon stirring around.

Crystal Light Liquid Strawberry Lemonade Stirred Up

Yes, it’s a little murky, but the pink adds something magical. I imagine this is what unicorn swamp water would look like.

The romp in interactive drink preparation was nothing but joy.

The tasting, however, was the opposite of joy.

It started as a hit of salty water, then went into some sort of faint cotton candy bubblegum. I added more squeezes into the water, thinking that maybe I just got a bad blend on my first squeeze, but it only concentrated the saltiness, resulting in something that tasted like a melted sea-salt-and-cotton-candy popsicle.

Oh, I was so sad. I really wanted to like this. I really did. I tried it multiple times with varying degrees of concentrate: one squeeze, measured squeezes, at breakfast, at dinner, while doing handstands in my kitchen (a fun and difficult challenge, but still not very tasty). I even offered it to a friend who needed to take off a few pounds.

Crystal Light Liquid Strawberry Lemonade and the Sultan

He said it was dastardly, which I thought a bit hyperbolic of him.

Maybe I just got a bad bottle. Maybe there was a mix up at the factory. Maybe a Crystal Light employee was seeking vengeance for an under-salted lemonade s/he had in his/her youth. I dunno. I appreciate that I didn’t waste any calories on this experience and I know Crystal Light can make some pretty decent lemonades, but this just isn’t one of them. Nonetheless, I hold hope for the future. Crystal Light is willing to take risks. Even when they fail, they shall try, try again.

Maybe next time.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/2 teaspoon – 0 calories, 0 calories from fat, 0 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 30 milligrams of sodium, 15 milligrams of potassium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 12 grams of sugars, and less than one gram of protein.)

Other Crystal Light Liquid reviews:
Drink What

Item: Crystal Light Liquid Strawberry Lemonade
Purchased Price: $3.29
Size: 1.62 fl. oz.
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Smells magical. Sugar free. Interactive preparation. Cool bottle. Cap snaps securely shut. Doing handstands in the kitchen. Shakespearean sonnets.
Cons: Tastes of watery, over-salted Jolly Rancher. Lingering cheap cotton candy taste. Unicorn swamp water. Galactic armadas that take over the planet.

REVIEW: Nabisco Birthday Cake Golden Oreo

Birthday Cake Golden Oreo

Something must’ve been floating in the air in 1912.

The Dixie cup was invented. The Girl Scouts were established. Frederick Law parachuted from the Statue of Liberty. And yet, even in the shadow of these noble, brazen, and/or semi-foolish ventures, Nabisco was able to hunker down and focus their energies on the subconscious needs of the people: cookie sandwiches.

Ever since then, the Oreo’s been dominating the sandwich cookie aisle like the reincarnation of Napoleon, and, by gum, Nabisco’s excited about it. So excited that they’ve taken their funfetti frosting celebration in the “original” Birthday Cake Oreo and extended it to its little brother: the golden cookie.

If you are new to planet Earth, welcome! This is an example of an Oreo, a dessert-like sandwich consisting of two wafer cookies dressed to the nines in sugar and smacked together with a sensible slab of frosting. In this case, it’s two “golden” (vanilla-flavored) cookies with a sprinkled white frosting.

Birthday Cake Golden Oreo Tab

Behold, the seal holding your golden gods, grasped in their file-cabinet-like tray.

Pre-opening, the package smells like package. Upon opening…

Birthday Cake Golden Oreo Closeup

Holy Jupiter on a motorbike, the waft of Pillsbury cake mix eschewing from this bag could be condensed and sold as a car freshener. Gotta give it to them: they really nailed the aesthetics of boxed yellow cake mix and canned frosting. It smells a little like flour. A little like vanilla pudding. A little chemically. Mmmm. Smell the childhood…

Pre-tasting, I must say the aesthetics of this cookie broaden my horizons: the beige cookie makes me feel safe while the sprinkles in the frosting remind me that change is okay. It has the classic Oreo design, which, according to various internet musings, has Masonic-inspired meaning that could serve well in a Dan Brown novel. A hefty 1/3 of them is crème filling, which is a comfortable ratio. On my good days, I, too, am 1/3 crème filling.

The cookie tastes mainly of flour. There’s definitely a slight artificial hit of vanilla, something that hits between flowers, plastic, and kindergarten. Pleasant enough, but it didn’t quite live up to the smell. The crispity little speckles of multicolored sprinkles add a new textural crinkle and the frosting disc is sweet in that familiar, semi-threatening, “I’m gonna melt your molars! And your canines! And your other teeth!” kinda way, which adds a certain risk to the eating process, and what, oh daring venturer, is life without a little risk?

Birthday Cake Golden Oreo Topless

Very few foods have banked as much as Oreo on the specific techniques of consumption, which are varied as all the elephants on the Island of Misfit Toys. I go in the following order: eat top cookie, consume middle 1/3 of icing, break bottom cookie down the middle of “icing road,” smoosh bottom cookie icing remnants together (like a half sandwich cookie), eat Frankenstein half-cookie, consume beverage, repeat. As with the classic, the twist on these is, with the exception of one or two fuddle-duds, exceptional, each cookie leaving it’s own footprint behind for consumption. There’s a reason Oreo’s 100. This is one of them.

I suspect that, with each passing year we get one percent more awesome, which will make Oreo 101 percent awesome this March. I think this calls forth celebration. These may not be spectacular, but they are festive and ring in a small hoorah for the year passed. They remain true to the Oreo and, thus, the likelihood that they will suck is about as likely as being squashed by gigantic barrels of vinegar. It may not flip the sandwich cookie world on its head, but it’s pleasant with a glass of chocolate milk and there’s certainly nothing offensive about that.

(Nutrition Facts – 2 cookies – 150 calories, 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 80 milligrams of sodium, 15 milligrams of potassium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 12 grams of sugars, and less than one gram of protein.)

Item: Nabisco Birthday Cake Golden Oreo
Purchased Price: $3.25
Size: 15.25 oz. package
Purchased at: Harris Teeter
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Crispity sprinkles. Good ratio of crème. Nice twist. Parachuting from the Statue of Liberty. Dixie Cups. Elephants on the Island of Misfit Toys.

Cons: Doesn’t live up to the smell. Cookies underwhelming. Perhaps too sweet. Being squashed by barrels of vinegar.

REVIEW: Fiber One 80 Calories Chocolate Squares Cereal

Fiber One Chocolate Cereal

What would happen if we all suddenly transformed into moose?

Well, aside from getting really huge noses and roaming freely between the Alaska-Canadian border, we would have the opportunity to consume about 9770 calories a day, a diet likely involving some grains seeing as we would no longer have the benefit of opposable thumbs and thus, would be shoveling our long noses into big bags of grains.

If this moose transformation were to happen now, we’d be in luck as a cornucopia of grainy goodies seems to be trundling down the production line of Kellogg’s, Post, and General Mills, all ripe for the tasting. Next in line? Fiber One Chocolate Squares.

This is a curious concept to me. Cereal that consists of chocolate and fiber doesn’t easily connect as one idea in my brain. They seem like two separate identities of cereals: one for Saturday morning cartoons and the other for the rest of the time. The thought of combining them is kind of like getting a six-man toboggan stuck in a tree in the middle of June: it doesn’t quite make sense, but sometimes 1) it doesn’t matter if it makes sense and 2) you just gotta trust that maybe it will over time. So I’m going to trust the General.

Fiber One Chocolate Cereal Look at all the fiber in that bowl

Upon pouring out the first handful, the little squares show a hopeful shade of cocoa brown (more specifically, “Russet Tone” in accordance with the paint sample book at Home Depot). They look like the wood chips my dad used to throw in the smoker and seem equally as sturdy, so you could probably reconstruct a full-scale model of the Eiffel Tower with them.

I, unfortunately, don’t have the architectural skills to reconstruct the Eiffel Tower with cereal product, so I ate them instead. On first shovelful, they’ve got a solid crisp. The chocolate is subtle, with the familiar chalky cocoa taste of Nesquik or Ovaltine. A sweeter (corn) bran somethin’ somethin’ comes in at the very end. I had intended for this to be my dessert, but, with its nostalgic powdered-chocolate-milk-and-cereal taste, could imagine it for breakfast. It holds a very delicate flavor. Delicate like antique chandeliers.

Sadly, that delicacy breaks apart when submerged in milk as any the sugary goodness dissolves. It’s like the little grains tried to dress up but then lost their tux and tails on the sidewalk. However, I know there’s a camp of people who love the sensation of cereal milk. If you are one such human, you may find you enjoy this in milk as its sturdy bran stands up for a good amount of time. The cocoa, however, still isn’t very strong, so the milk doesn’t taste so much of cocoa as it does of corn bran pulp. I’ll allow you to decipher for yourself whether you wish to embark on such an eating experience.

With Cocoa Krispies and Cocoa Puffs currently dominating the chocolate cereal market, the square is a welcome variation from the dominant geometrical experience of the most popular chocolate cereals. It broadens my mind to ask: what else could this cereal be? Would it make for a good ice cream topper? Or a pie crust? Or perhaps the medium for an installation piece at the MoMA? Imagine the possibilities.

Fiber One Chocolate Cereal A square of potential

You can be whatever you wanna be, little square (positive reinforcement).

My college roommate used to tell me to start my New Year’s Resolutions on solid knees. I’m not quite sure what that means, but I have a feeling that the 40 percent of the calcium provided within this box of chocolate squares will keep my knees in-check. Plus, they’ve got fiber and don’t taste like vitamins and minerals. That’s a hurdle and they’ve crossed it in well my book.

On the whole, while not spectacular, these were good for munching. I had hope for a deeper, more woodsy cocoa flavor, but, hey, let me not go all catawampus over my own nit-picky preferences. I enjoyed this enough. Is it the best chocolate cereal? Not for me, but it does provide something pretty innovative and pretty tasty and that’s pretty good for today.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup – 80 calories, 10 calories from fat 1 gram of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 0 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 130 milligrams of sodium, 105 milligrams of potassium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 9 grams of fiber, 5 grams of sugar, 11 grams of other carbohydrates, 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Fiber One 80 Calories Chocolate Squares Cereal
Purchased Price: $2.97 (on sale)
Size: 11.75 ounce box
Purchased at: Harris Teeter
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Good size. Solid structure. Cocoa flavor. Doesn’t taste like vitamins and minerals. Lots of calcium. Solid knees. Antique chandeliers. Turning into a moose.
Cons: Cocoa flavor too delicate. Not much better in milk. Corn bran pulp. Getting a toboggan stuck in a tree. Not being equipped with architectural skills.

REVIEW: General Mills Honey Nut Cheerios Medley Crunch

Honey Nut Cheerios Medley Crunch

Juggler of Flaming Batons.

Academy Awards Ballot Counter.

Crayon Namer.

These were some of the 18 career paths I pursued in the summer of 2001. In order to meet the social and physical demands of said paths, I needed a good breakfast and, in accordance to my own priorities of nutrition, oats and sugar fit the bill, which is why I consumed a mix of Honey Nut Cheerios and Frosted Flakes for three weeks straight while tossing five batons in the air and thinking up crayon monikers like “Ghostbuster Slime.”

While I may not be a baton flame thrower, I haven’t forgotten that morning cereal blend, and thus, it came to my surprise, nostalgia, and anticipatory glee to discover this new Honey Nut Cheerios Medley Crunch which promises not only a blend of O’s and sugary flakes, but clusters as well.

Let’s talk Honey Nut Cheerios: they’re simple. They don’t toss around marshmallows or throw confetti or swing on a trapeze (although it would be cool if they did. Could the people in product development get on that?). Heck, they don’t even taste of honey in that poofy, floral sense, but I’m cool with that. I don’t really want a greenhouse in my cereal bowl.

Tasting more of sugar, oats, and a hint of almond flavor, Honey Nut Cheerios holds a subtlety which makes them just right for anytime consumption, a phenomenon which has garnered them a fan base that deserves its own display at Comic Con. I’ve no doubt that Buzz, that anthropomorphic, sneaker-wearin’ bee, holds the secret recipe that, if revealed, would induce a political scandal all its own. Just look at his face…

Honey Nut Cheerios Medley Crunch Buzz

It speaks of hidden secrets.

All these qualities make Honey Nut Cheerios versatile, and the greatness of that versatility is only heightened here. The classic O’s form the foundation (about 1/3 of the cereal), and, for all you Honey Nut connoisseurs, I am happy to report that there was no tampering with the formula of the classic O here, holding its trademark sweetness through and through.

Honey Nut Cheerios Medley Crunch in tha' bowl

The highlight came in the clusters, which are filled with whole oats and crispy thingies and smatterings of almonds. While the almonds don’t always come through, the clusters’ taste really shines in the department of roasted oats and brown sugar, which is a recipe for love if I’ve ever heard one. And did I mention they’re the size of small meteorites?

Honey Nut Cheerios Medley Crunch Clusters and flakes and O's [oh my!]

They add a heft that made me feel strong enough to carry a goat up the side of a mountain, then down the mountain, then maybe on a journey across the Oregon Trail. They are hard-terrain crunchy, requiring the most exercise from my teeth. I imagine crunching into one is akin to the satisfying feeling of accomplishment a beaver feels when s/he has gnawed through an especially tasty oak tree.

The downer about this cereal comes in the flakes, which are flimsy and, when immersed in liquid, dissolve into a brown, lumpy continent of soggy despair. However, I’m of two minds on this because the flakes taste pretty dad-gum good, having a deeper roasty almond flavor than the O’s that makes the regular Honey Nut Cheerios taste even better. What’s a human to do with tasty, yet soggy flakes?! Maybe, if I close my eyes and visualize my happy place, I can ignore the fact that I’m spooning brown, baby-food-esque globs of almond-tasting gloop in my mouth…

Or maybe I’ll just stick with this as a straight-from-the-bag cereal. Unless you’re keen on sog, I might suggest you do the same.

I often find myself in the cereal aisle experiencing the “Oh, I want that and that and that,” phenomenon, which results in a self-imposed peer pressure that amounts in purchasing more cereals than my pantry space permits. This Honey Nut Cheerios Medley Crunch relieves that pressure.

Is this a mountain of honey oozing down from a crunchy exterior of fried dough? No. It’s a cereal mixture, and that’s okay with me. It’s not revolutionary and I wouldn’t necessarily choose it over Cinnamon Roll Frosted Mini Wheats, but it’s a balanced blend that tastes good from the bag, has plenty of clusters, and does something dandy for cholesterol. Sweet, soft, and a little edgy, this is a pleasant rendition of what a cereal mix aspires to be.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup – 120 calories, 15 calories from fat, 2 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 120 milligrams of sodium, 105 milligrams of potassium, 24 grams of carbohydrates, 2 gram of dietary fiber, 9 grams of sugars, and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: General Mills Honey Nut Cheerios Medley Crunch
Purchased Price: $3.59
Size: 13.1 ounces
Purchased at: Harris Teeter
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Crunchy clusters. Huge clusters. Plenty of clusters. Honey Nut Cheerios is still good. Relieves pressure to buy excessive boxes of cereal. Being a crayon namer. Ghostbuster slime.
Cons: Flimsy flakes. Adding milk results in despair. Political scandals. Cannot be a trapeze artist.