cereaus business.

My cereal habit is completely out of control. There are days when I eat cereal for every meal. I’ve been known to eat an entire, family-sized box in one sitting (yep, my bowels are squeaky clean). I always have a few different boxes in rotation at any given time. My excitement when I discover a new brand or flavour is on par with most people’s upon the birth of their first child.

I like cereal hot or cold. With milk, or just eaten by the handful, dry from the box. I like it on yoghurt and on ice cream. I use it in baking whenever possible. Sometimes, instead of milk, I’ll mix it with chocolate sauce or maple syrup, and create the most monstrous sugar-coma-inducing “dessert” known to man.

…I just really, REALLY frikkin’ love cereal.

But oddly enough, it didn’t really feature in my childhood staple foods. I ate a lot of porridge as a kid, and I have vague memories of corn flakes occasionally (topped with approximately 18 tablespoons of sugar). I remember going through a period of Coco Pops madness, purely to collect coupons redeemable for some sort of Gameboy-esque electronic game. But other than that, cereal wasn’t a big part of my diet.

So perhaps that explains the obsession now: I’m making up for lost time.

Given the sheer quantity of flakes, clusters, pops, nuggets, bubbles , hoops, snaps, rings and crunches I go through in an average week, it makes sense to document it in some way. After all, I’m sure not all of you have the same incredible tolerance for fibre as I do. So I decided to save you – and your digestive system – some effort by reviewing a few cereals that have graced my milk/ice cream/yoghurt/chocolate syrup lately.

OUR FIRST CONTENDER…..

I had huge hopes for Back to Nature’s ‘Waffle Bite’z’.

First, I love food-that-tastes-like-other-food (ketchup flavoured potato chips, lemon meringue flavoured yoghurt, tiramisu flavoured chocolate, ice cream containing pavlova, ANZAC biscuits, Christmas pudding, pear and rhubarb crumble….)

Second, I love food-shaped-like-other-stuff (dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets, for example), especially if it’s MINIATURE. It makes me feel like a giant.

Third, I love waffles and I love maple syrup. And the promise of these flavours in my cereal bowl was almost too much for my little brain to handle.

My thoughts:

1. ‘Bite’z’ is possibly the stupidest word to grace a cereal box ever. And that’s a big call. Hannah lamented the use of this term in her post. There’s not much more I can say, except:
   a) adding a ‘z’ to the end of a word was cool in grade 4, among the same girls who liked to replace the dot on an i with a heart/star/smiley face/flower. It is no longer cool. And those girls were always kinda stupid anyway. I suspect Back to Nature’s marketing crew are a bunch of fuddy-duddy really uncool dads who tell horrible jokes to try to impress their children’s friends…. “HEY LOOK KIDS! I REPLACED THE ‘S’ ON THE CEREAL BOX WITH A ‘Z’! HAR HAR HAR! AM I A FRESH PRINCE OR WHAT!? TESTIFY!” 
   ... and...
   b) apostrophes matter.
2. These do not look like waffles. They look like daisies. Or strands of DNA. I like daisies, and I have nothing against DNA (it’s served me well to date), but if I wanted daisy-or-genetic-material-shaped cereal, I would invent Daisy-Os or DNA Pops.
3. They have an odd, airy, styrofoam-y texture (probably owing to its gluten-free ingredients). It’s not entirely unpleasant, and I quite liked the slightly gelatinous state it took on when soggy. But probably just because it allowed me to pretend I was a Ghost Buster fighting slime-trailing ghosts….it would definitely not be for everyone.
4. There's also a weird, bordering-on-unpleasant, almost savoury flavour. Kind of similar to that of Rice Bubbles/Rice Krispies, AKA the most useless cereal ever, worthwhile only when combined with melted marshmallows into delicious bar form. These Waffle Bite’z have no excuse for being so strangely savoury/bland………The third ingredient is sugar. NO EXCUSE. 
5. Maple flavour? Waffle flavour? Where are you???? WHY ARE YOU NOT IN MY MOUTH?!?!?!?!?

The verdict: These bite(……’z).
[for the record – Back to Nature’s other products, including the equally unfortunately named ‘Cookie Bite’z’, are much, much better]

NEXT IN THE RING…..

Let’s get it right out there: Weet-bix Golden Crumble Bites rule hardcore.

My thoughts:

1. Golden syrup is not a flavour used enough in breakfast. It is also one of my favourite flavours. Statement 1 + Statement 2 = Statement 1. Uhh. Yes. I have a degree in English. I do not have a degree in mathematics. Moving on… 
2. I didn’t taste the coconut much. Or at all, really. But this not upsetting to me, as I’m not a huuuuge coconut fan (especially in cereals). It tends to upset my delicate, dainty, lady-like tummy (just suspend your disbelief, okay? And ignore all the stuff I said about how much fibre my intestines can handle). 
3. I love the ‘layers’ of a Weet-Bix….Weet-Bick? What is the singular of ‘bix’? I don’t know. But I love the way they flake into ‘sheets’. Of wheat. ‘Weet-Sheets’, they should be called. Or, if the fuddy-duddy-bad-dad-joke marketing crew at Back to Nature was in charge… ‘Weet-Sheet’z’. 
4. Even better is the fact that these are CHUNKY! I love chunky stuff! Kit-Kat Chunky Bars. Chunky Lego, designed for the under-3 year old market. Chunky soup. Chunky men. Chunky peanut butter. They’re all so much more enjoyable to bite – and so much more satisfying – than their non-chunky counterparts. 
5. ‘Weet-Bix’ may be a silly and confusing spelling, but at least they managed to correctly spell ‘bites’! WELL DONE, SANITARIUM!!! 
6. They also deserve major points for redeeming the ‘Bites’ range from the travesty that is Cocoa-Malt flavour. By which I mean ‘no-flavour’. For shame. Without turning it into a review of its own, let me just say that it’s the biggest waste of an AWESOME FLAVOUR COMBINATION since…. Well…..Waffle Bite’z.

The verdict: Delicious. Chunky. Like little bricks of layer-y, flake-y love. Golden syrup rules. Correct spelling of at least half the name redeems all other sins.

THIRD…….

… And appropriately, there are three of them - Table of Plenty mueslis: Heavenly Honey, Velvety Vanilla and Nicely Nutty. A Trifecta of Tastes. 

 

My thoughts:

1. It’s like they read my mind!!! I always find toasted muesli to be TOO toasted… while natural is just a bit too sissy and wimpy and raw for my tastes. Table of Plenty blends the two, in a move that makes the indecisive among us cry with glee!
2. All three flavours are delicious. The fruity ones more so than the recently-added ‘Nicely Nutty’, which feels like it needs an extra flavour in there somewhere (perhaps some ‘Majestic Maple’ or 'Civil Cinnamon' or ‘Glowing Golden Syrup’ or 'Noble Nutmeg'?), or perhaps just to be slightly sweeter.
3. I enjoy alliteration. I extensively excessively elaborately enjoy alliteration a lot.
4. These would be better with a few bigger clusters. While I appreciate the toasted bits in addition to the raw, it’s not QUITE enough of a contrast. Besides, as discussed, I enjoy biting on chunky things/men.

The verdict: A very yummy, very addictive, slightly-fancier-than-everyday muesli, that appeals to my desire to eat EVERYTHING at once. Because making decisions/committing is for losers and married people and those with a mortgage.

[note: if you want to take your indecisiveness to the next level, do what I did and MIX ALL THREE TOGETHER. You will not regret it]

ENTER THE FOREIGNERS…..

I’m a big fan of sugary, cutesy, novelty American cereals. The kind that are like dessert masquerading as breakfast. The kind that glow with artificial neon colours. The kind that have cartoon characters on the box. The kind that are aimed at 8 year olds. Most importantly... The kind with miniature marshmallows. Marshmallows do not grace the cereal bowls of Australian children. I am, on the one hand, glad about this, for a range of nutritional and ethical reasons. But my inner 6 year old longs for an 8am marshmallow-induced sugar coma.

So, whenever I see them in import stores – usually retailing for a whopping $10-15 a box – I stock up.

[and here I would like to put out a MASSIVE plug to the awesome folks at USA Foods, who make my life/breakfast worth living/eating]

Cookie Crisp is one of those cereals I saw on American TV shows and marvelled at as a kid. COOKIES?! COOOOOKIES??!?!? In my cereal bowl?!?!?!? As I mentioned briefly above, there is now a similar product made by Back to Nature. But.. ya know… it’s designed to be healthy. If I’m going to have cookies for breakfast, I do not want them to be nutritious. 

My thoughts:

1. They don’t taste like cookies.
2. But they do taste like sugar, which is an important component of cookies.
3. I think they are better soggy. Probably just because they then remind me – slightly – of soft chocolate chip cookies.
4. They are very, very cute.
5. Their most valuable contribution to society is that they allow you to do this....

 

from left to right: apricot jam, nutella, peanut butter

The verdict: They are not particularly great, but they have novelty value (for an Australian market, at least) coming out of their little cookie ears.

Golden Grahams are another in the stuff-that-tastes-like-other-stuff cereal category. Do you see why I love American cereals so much?!?!?

My thoughts:

1. Are they meant to taste like graham crackers?
2. They don’t taste like graham crackers.
3. But most Australians wouldn’t know what graham crackers are anyway, so it doesn’t matter.
4. THEY TASTE LIKE FAIRY FLOSS/COTTON CANDY!!!!!!!!!!!! Or toffee! ….. AKA like something comprised entirely of slightly burnt sugar! YAAAAAAAAAAY!
5. Unlike Cookie Crisp, they are infinitely better eaten dry.
6. I thoroughly enjoy the fact that one of their slogans is ‘With ridges that rock!’. You know you’re struggling when ridges are your selling point. I look forward to the day when they adopt a new slogan.... "THEY'RE RECTANGULAR!".. or... "With FOUR right angles!"

The verdict: I expected these to be boring…. BUT THEY ARE SERIOUSLY DELICIOUS. Fairy floss/cotton candy/toffee?!? For breakfast?!?!?!?

That, my friends, is even better than cookies, waffles and marshmallows combined.

I think that’s quite enough for today. Stay tuned… I suspect there will be many, many more cereals featured here. 

And please, please, say a little prayer for my bowels.

When life gives you lemons/hooks, make lemonade/try not to kill yourself.

I moved into my apartment almost a year ago. Today I realised that it finally feels like home, to the point where I don't even really 'see' it anymore (this is sometimes bad, as I tend to 'not see' piles of dirty dishes in the sink and toast crumbs leading from my kitchen to my bed and back again).

Despite feeling more like home - and despite the fact that I am sometimes really super-crazy-OCD-organised - there's a lot I still haven't got around to doing.

Such as purchasing any type of shelving (mostly because it'd then require I assemble it).
...or unpacking my boxes of books and CDs and DVDs (mostly because I don't yet have any shelving).
...or finding out where the lint filter is located in my dryer (mostly because I'd then have absolutely no excuse for not doing my laundry).
...or learning how to use my oven (mostly because I'd then feel like I had to cook something more substantial than peanut butter sandwiches for dinner).


... but I digress. The thing I want to do the most in my house - 'more than laundry?!' I hear you cry. Yes.) is to learn the intended purpose of this mysterious hook in my living room. Failing that, I want to at least find a use for it.

I've become an obsessive madwoman. What is it?! What purpose could it possibly serve?!! Sometimes - usually when I'm not cleaning my lint filter or learning how to use my oven - I find myself staring at it, trying to think of interesting uses for such an oddly-placed metal hook.

Redecorating Options (feel free to contribute. It'll help me sleep at night)...

1. A conveniently located meat hook. For hanging any wild boars I happen to slaughter on my travels through suburban Canberra. It would be nice to have their carcasses at such a close proximity to my computer desk, when internet-surfing-exertion hunger pangs strike.
2. A pinata hanging device. For when you all buy me pinatas for my birthday (cough-August-26th-cough), so I can have a proper birthday party befitting a mature and grown up 24 year old.
3. A hook for some kind of really obnoxious wind-chime. To get revenge on my neighbours for The Beeping Incident of 2010.
4. Somewhere to hang my sweaty gym clothes. Because lord knows I recycle those babies more than I should be willing to admit, and some kind of airing apparatus would be beneficial for everybody.
5. A Stelarc-esque installation piece, involving the suspension of my naked body in mid-air by hooks and fishing wire.
6. A hook for a disco ball. With the mirror nearby, I think it could create a totally wild, trippy, out-of-control nightclub atmosphere. My solo dance parties in the corner of my living room would be OFF THE HOOK! ......HARHARHARhahahARARARAHHHH... geddit?!


That's all I got. If I don't find a useful purpose for this thing soon, I will a) jump to my death from my balcony out of frustration, or b) maim and cripple myself trying to detach it from my ceiling. Neither is a good option.