Honey Bunches of Oats Chicken and Waffles Review

avril 18, 2022 Enregistrer un commentaire

Y'all know the feeling.

Yous're at the shop, poking around, when something catches your eye. And you lot might think, "Was that what I thought it was? Or was I mistaken? And if I wasn't…is it a joke?"

That's how I felt when, at Walmart, I saw a display of two make new, "Limited Edition" cereals, one chosen Maple Bacon Donut and one called Chicken & Waffles. It was no joke. At least non in the traditional sense.

Now, I like chicken and waffles. The now-defunct McCoy's Public Business firm in Westport had some of the best chicken and waffles around. But trying to render the circuitous combination of sweet, savory, and salty that makes craven and waffles and so delicious artificially is a tall order.

In 2013, Lay's tried to inflict Craven & Waffles potato chips on the earth. They tasted similar crotch sweat and maple-flavored corn syrup. They were fucking terrible, and you can't tell me they weren't. Then why am I trying this cereal?

Well, to be honest, now that I'thou in the cereal-review business organisation, I'm inclined to give just about anything a chance. And given my general inclination towards trying the foreign, the off-shell, and the seemingly rare (information technology says "Limited Edition" right there!) in regards to films, books, and sodas, why non practise the same with cereal?

How bad can information technology be? (Famous terminal words.)

Full disclosure, this time I'g using unsweetened almond milk, my preferred milk for cereal consumption.

Smashing open the box, I run into three distinct elements to this cereal:

the "chicken," small, vaguely cylindrical pieces meant to mimic the appearance of fried chicken;
the "waffles," which look like pieces of Waffle Well-baked (which was apparently discontinued last yr);
the flakes, which seem slightly de trop in this context, but maybe they're necessary for legal purposes.

There's a definite maple syrup odour to the dry cereal, with a toasted quality to it. Not surprising at all. I'm going to endeavour some dry pieces before adding milk.

The craven tastes pretty much similar puffed corn cereal, sugariness, but with a more savory edge than usual. A quick await at the ingredients list reveals the presence of garlic and onion powders—a first for any cereal I've tried, at least to my cognition. Honestly, information technology tastes kind of like the breadsticks in a pocketbook of Gardetto's. Which is fine, those are my favorite element in Gardetto's.

The waffles are totally only pieces of Waffle Crisp. This must be what they're doing now that their cereal is defunct. Gotta go by somehow. And the flakes are pretty blah. Never was much for Honey Bunches of Oats, especially not the flakes. They're quite wan.

Now adding milk.

Surprisingly mild with the milk. Very much like Waffle Crisp, admitting with a slightly more savory edge. But information technology's more often than not maple-syrup-flavored puffed corn.

That's not to say it's bad. It's quite edible. But information technology's not that distinctive either, once you get past the fact that it'due south, you know, Chicken & Waffles cereal. It's not like those fries, which taste like an error. Which ways that eating the rest of this box in the side by side week or so won't be an ordeal.

I suppose I was hoping for something a little more dramatically affecting, though. Something to really live upward to the hype I'd generated for it, either as a catastrophe or as a shockingly successful imitation of a decadent treat. Instead, it's actually simply some other cereal.

If you can get it at a substantial discount (and that might well happen in the next few months whenever Postal service wants to purge its remaining stock), get for it. I didn't spend also much on it, so I hardly feel bilked. Simply honestly, the only reason to get out of your manner for this is completism (are in that location cereal completists?) or to come up equally close equally possible to eating a bowl of Waffle Well-baked as you tin these days.