Banana Frosted Flakes is one of my favorite cereals of all time. ALL TIME. I miss it dearly.

So much so that I’ve

But now, there’s Limited Edition Frosted Flakes Banana Creme. Will it be the reason why I no longer have to write cereal odes or fight Tony the Tiger in my sleep? Unfortunately, the written and violent pleas will have to continue.

The flakes have a faint pleasant banana aroma mixed with the familiar scent of Frosted Flakes. They’re coated with a layer of frosting that makes them look similar to the original variety. There aren’t any dried fruit bits on them or the word “banana” in the ingredients list.

There’s an adequate amount of banana flavor at first. But, by the fifth or sixth spoonful, it changes into something different from the first few dips into the cereal bowl. The fruitiness takes a backseat, and the frosting’s sweetness takes control. This happened whether I ate them dry or with milk. But those first spoonfuls brings a smile to my face.

While there’s sufficient flavor, I can’t help but think Kellogg’s could’ve added more, which might’ve helped make it a little more lasting. It could’ve taken the dried fruit from its Banana Raisin Bran (one of my favorite cereals of 2018) and added them to this. That addition might’ve made this one of my early favorites of 2019. But they weren’t so this ends up being a little disappointing to me.

If I weren’t a child of the 80s and 90s who got to experience the Golden Age of Breakfast Cereal that included Banana Frosted Flakes, I’d probably like this more than I do.

I do like it because I LOVE banana flavored products and there are traces of it. But its lack of a lasting flavor makes me go bananas.

DISCLOSURE: I received a free sample of the product. Doing so did not influence my review in any way.

Purchased Price: FREE
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Received from Kellogg’s
Rating: 6 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (3/4 cup w/o milk) 110 calories, 0 grams of fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 150 milligrams of sodium, 30 milligrams of potassium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 10 grams of sugar, and 1 gram of protein.

As far as I’m concerned, Tony the Tiger is going through something of an identity crisis. Not only has Kellogg’s changed his look to be more “accessible” (like a talking Tiger was accessible to begin with), but his parent company has been rolling out all kinds of flavor variations.

On one hand, I guess Cinnamon Frosted Flakes shouldn’t surprise us. Both Tigers and Cinnamon are native to Bangladesh, and having already cycled through marshmallows, chocolate, and marshmallows and chocolate, it makes sense for Kellogg’s to hit us with a subliminal geography lesson. I wasn’t crazy about Chocolate Frosted Flakes with Marshmallows, nor did scream gr-r-reat! for the now-defunct Frosted Flakes with Energy Clusters.

So I’ve got good reason to be skeptical of the addition of cinnamon to Frosted Flakes. I say this with 28 years of cereal eating under my belt, literally. Despite the popularity of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, cinnamon-only flavored cereals don’t have a good track record. Cinnamon Burst Cheerios lasted for all of two seconds, while Cinnamon Jacks, Cinna-Crunch Pebbles, and a host of other cinnamon cereals have been relegated to the lonely eulogies written on MrBreakfast.com.

I do not join these individuals in mourning.

If anything, cinnamon can be overpowering if applied in the wrong context, which is exactly the case with Cinnamon Frosted Flakes. The cinnamon flavor is floral and spicy, somewhere between the flavor of cinnamon gum and the aroma of a cinnamon-scented candle. The weird thing is that it takes a second to activate, and when it does, it’s more of an aroma and sensation than a taste.

And boy is it strong.

The characteristic sweetness of Frosted Flakes is still there, but before the sweetness dissipates, it’s overwhelmed by the authentic cinnamon flavor. The problem isn’t that it doesn’t taste like cinnamon; the problem is that it tastes too much like cinnamon, so much that the malted sweetness and slight corn flavor that are present in Frosted Flakes get lost.

The effect is not so extreme in milk, but that in and of itself doesn’t make Cinnamon Frosted Flakes desirable. There’s a decent cinnamon run-off into the milk, and the trademarked soggy corn sweetness of Frosted Flakes is still there, but the flavors of frosted flakes and cinnamon just don’t go together.

Clearly, something isn’t working in the grand scheme of Tony the Tiger’s life. The thing is, I have no idea why this is, except to suggest that this is some kind of mid-life cereal crisis that doesn’t need to be. We can all agree that Frosted Flakes are gr-r-reat!, but frankly, the new flavors, including Cinnamon Frosted Flakes, are really just “oh-oh-oh-kay.”

(Nutrition Facts – 29 grams – 110 calories, 0 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 mg of cholesterol, 150 mg of sodium, 26 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 10 grams of sugars, and 1 gram of protein.)

Purchased Price: $3.98
Size: 26.8 oz. box
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Authentic and floral cinnamon flavor in every spoonful. Better than the now defunct Simply Cinnamon Corn Flakes. Subliminal geography lessons.
Cons: Cinnamon flavor dominates the subtle malt and corn flavors of the flakes. Like eating a cinnamon-flavored candle. More an aroma than a true flavor. Lacks the buttery “toasted” flavors of Cinnamon Toast Crunch or Cinnamon Chex.

Kellogg’s Limited Edition Chocolate Frosted Flakes with Marshmallows remind me of my fourth grade Stormtrooper Halloween costume.

Like eight-year old Adam in awe of the theatrical release of the Stars Wars Special Edition movies, Tony the Tiger’s latest creation sets out to trick-or-treat with only the utmost respect for the ethos of Halloween.

Problem is, there’s some stiff competition. In my case, it was Luke, who ironically decided to trick-or-treat as a Stormtrooper the same year I did (Like, really? Your name is Luke and you decide to go as a Stormtrooper?)

Anyways, Luke’s costume kicked the crap out of mine. He was the kid with the lights and sound enhanced Stormtrooper carbine, specially crafted armor, and an actual helmet like those people who go to ComicCon. I, meanwhile, had a mask attached with a string, a cheap white smock with some black lines on it, and (because my parents hated weapons) a pillowcase stuffed with candy as my only armament.

In other words, Luke was the Count Chocula to my Chocolate Frosted Flakes with Marshmallows, which, while okay, are quickly defrocked as an imitator to the chocolaty standard of limited edition Halloween cereals.

To Kellogg’s credit, Chocolate Frosted Flakes with Marshmallows get the job done as a snacking cereal. There’s a savory and sweet thing that goes on with the cocoa-glazed flakes, which still have that crunchy, malted corn aftertaste of original Frosted Flakes. But the cocoa flavor is mild and varies from flake to flake, while the marshmallows are just bad. Sure they look cool; a deconstructed skeleton beats the ambiguously-shaped blobs that Count Chocula claims are bats, but the Frosted Flakes marshmallows lack a sturdy texture ideal for snacking or a long soaking in milk.

And it’s in milk that Tony the Tiger’s Halloween cereal is stripped of its chocolate costume. The cocoa quickly flows off the flakes, but the end-milk, while darkly colored like a Halloween night, tastes nothing like the cocoa-infused milk left behind by Count Chocula, Cocoa Puffs, or other tier one chocolate cereals. Combined with the marshmallows, it’s just a hyper sweet bowl of milk with faraway (far, far away) notes of cocoa powder.

Chocolate Frosted Flakes with Marshmallows are an okay novelty cereal that will do in a pinch, but like that flimsy Stormtrooper mask and loose-fitting “armored” smock that I wore for Halloween as a kid, the cereal is too easily unmasked. And with the chocolate covered spirit of Halloween in good and cocoa-powder stained hands with Count Chocula, Chocolate Frosted Flakes with Marshmallows probably won’t be making a repeat appearance in my pantry next year.

(Nutrition Facts – 30 grams – 100 calories, 1 gram of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 mg of cholesterol, 150 mg of sodium, 22 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 10 grams of sugars, and 1 grams of protein..)

Purchased Price: $2.74
Size: 9.5 oz. box
Purchased at: United Supermarket
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Enjoyable cocoa and milled corn flavor when eaten as a snack. Marshmallows provide a needed textural contrast to the crunchy frosted flakes. Creative use of a marshmallow artwork.
Cons: Not as chocolaty as Count Chocula and leaves nonexistent chocolate end-milk. Marshmallows aren’t as sturdy as Count Chocula. Wait, are the skeletons from people Tony the Tiger ate? My stupid fourth grade Halloween costume.

There are three things I never got to see that bum me out – Ebbets Field, a World’s Fair, and Banana Frosted Flakes.

According to Wikipedia – the world’s most trusted source – there have been less than ten Frosted Flakes flavor variants in North America since its inception in 1952, so you can understand why it took 64 years for Kellogg to sprinkle a few marshmallows in.

Frosted Flakes with Marshmallows.

It’s so simple, yet so necessary. I think I’ve subconsciously always wanted these to exist. Why wouldn’t there be Frosted Flakes with Marshmallows?

I’m sure some of you skeptics are thinking, “Meh. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

Why you gotta harsh marshmallow’s mellow? (Say that ten times really fast.)

Didn’t you ever mix two cereals together when you were a kid? I still do that. I could write a book about the best cereals to mix together. Dare me. Dare me to write that book. I’ll write that book so hard!

Threats aside, I don’t think I need to go into much detail about Frosted Flakes. At this point, you should know all about the sugary corn flakes. They’re literally sugar coated Corn Flakes and one of the most iconic cereals on Earth.

Tony the Tiger is one of the most recognizable marketing mascots ever, up there with Mickey Mouse, Ronald McDonald, and every child’s favorite, Progressive Flo. Just in case anyone was wondering, the box notes that Frosted Flakes is indeed the official cereal of Tony the Tiger. Thanks for confirming our lifelong suspicions, Kellogg.

So, you’re well aware of the flakes. How are the marshmallows?

They’re Gr-r-r-ross!

Nah, I’m playing, they’re fine. Not quite “gr-r-r-reat,” but they’re okay.

They look like hot chocolate-style marshmallows. Texturally, they are pretty much what you expect from a cereal marshmallow. They have a nice sticky crisp, if that makes sense.

It’s hard to get too excited about the appearance. This is a no-frills cereal, and annoying people tell me you eat with your eyes first. They could have at least made them little tiger paws or something. Instead, it’s just a boring bowl of whiteish-yellow flakes and little rock marshmallows devoid of color.

The marshmallows have a really good crisp that gets immediately overtaken once you crunch them along with the cereal flakes. Frosted Flakes is a cereal that loses crispness in milk quickly, so after a couple spoonfuls, you’re left with soggy flakes and slimy marshmallows. That being said, the after-milk was the same as I remember. It’s like mixing five tablespoons of sugar in a glass of milk.

I never thought of Frosted Flakes as a “without milk” cereal, but I think these could be a nice starter kit for a top notch snack mix. Throw in some honey roasted peanuts, M&M’s and pretzels, and we’re on to something. I may buy another box and give this a shot.

I consider Frosted Flakes a good “if they’re on sale” purchase. They’ve always been a 7 out of 10 cereal to me, and I don’t think I can give these a different score. The marshmallows didn’t really change the taste, and barely provided a different texture. I could hold that against them, but why bother? It was still a satisfying bowl of cereal.

I’m sure you weren’t expecting this cereal to reinvent the wheel, so I think you’ll like ’em. If you love Frosted Flakes, give ’em a whirl. Now, who wants to start a petition with me to get Banana Frosted Flakes back on shelves?

(Nutrition Facts – 29 grams – 110 calories, 0 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 mg of cholesterol, 135 mg of sodium, 26 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 12 grams of sugars, and 1 gram of protein.)

Purchased Price: $2.50
Size: 13.6 oz box
Purchased at: Wegmans
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Classic cereal. Really good fresh out of the box. Potential base for a snack mix. Mixing multiple cereals together. Tony the Tiger. Saying Tony the Tiger’s famous catchphrase out loud.
Cons: Really not much different than normal. Boring appearance. Almost instant sog. Super sugary cereal milk. Tongue twisters. I really wanted to go to a World’s Fair. “Ya know, anyone can edit Wikipedia.”

Hola, mi amigos!  Como estas?  Esta es la Compra Impulsiva, y hoy–

Ah, dammit… sorry, I was looking at the wrong side of the box.  As it happens, the package of Frosted Flakes Chocolate I picked up has English on one side; but instead of a maze or outlandish claims about being healthy for you on the back, we’re treated to a mirror image of the front except the product name is now “Choco Zucaritas.”  (Es nuevo!)  Interestingly, the top and bottom of the box only use the Spanish name, and that’s what’s shown above the nutritional information on the side, so I guess it’s primarily targeted at Spanish speakers?  Either way, I applaud Kellogg’s for reaching out to the Latino community, despite it serving as another painful reminder that when choosing a second language in school, I picked French instead of one that might conceivably be useful to me someday.  That’s okay — I’ll be the one laughing when Canada finally invades, ya hosers.

But let’s get serious for a second: we’re talking about a product that on the surface sounds… well, fantastic.  Awe-inspiring.  God’s own breakfast cereal, one might reasonably speculate.  I’ve sampled plenty of cereals in my day, but I always find my way back to Frosted Flakes in the end, because it’s one of the best.  Which begs the question: can you improve upon the best?  True innovators always think so, and Kellogg’s has given it a shot by adding a chocolate coating to the classic sugared flakes.  You might consider that overkill — can your palate really handle frosting AND chocolate at the same time? — but it’s that kind of thinking that could have deprived the world of Peanut Butter Cups, so I’m prepared to give this a shot.

Opening the package immediately wafts a strong chocolate scent into your nostrils.  I wondered for half a second why it smelled so familiar before realizing it’s the identical aroma given off by Cocoa Krispies.  Promising, and a look at the flakes doesn’t change that assessment, though it is a little surprising.  I think I was expecting flakes that were entirely chocolate, but that’s not what these are.  Nor are they regular flakes with just a slight dusting of chocolate on them.  It’s a little hard to describe, but basically they look like Frosted Flakes that are in the process of converting to chocolate, like you caught them mid-transformation or something.  Remember in The Monster Squad when that cop shot Dracula, and they found him stuck halfway between human and bat forms?  It’s like that.  Also, don’t think about that scene before you eat these, it’s gross.

Unfortunately, if the smell and the appearance of Frosted Flakes Chocolate are like the first 1:18 of “The Final Countdown,” the taste is the remaining three minutes and fifty-two seconds, where even Europe fans pack up their stuff and head for the exits.  I don’t know what it is, but for some reason the two flavors of frosting and chocolate don’t mesh well together.  It’s just too much, and I’m a guy who never shies away from the most cavity-inducing option.  For the first second or two they taste fine, but then it’s almost like a time delay kicks in and both the sugar and chocolate flavors burst onto the scene at once.  And like every pair of cops ever depicted on TV or in the movies, they don’t play well together.

It highlights the danger of going in with such high expectations, I guess, because it’s not like Frosted Flakes Chocolate are terrible.  They’re chocolatey, they’re sugary, they stay crunchy for the same length of time as the regular variety.  We’re all familiar with gimmick cereals and I guess I hoped these would be different, because chocolate + frosting = win, right?  But it’s like listening to two talented rappers battling, only instead of taking turns they’re both going at the same time, so everything sounds like, “Yo, your girlfriend your momma came over last really knows how to WORK that pole my rhymes are dope, you got no hope to cope, you’re a joke and my ASS, bitch.”  Then they both drop their microphones at once and you go deaf.

Or, as Antonio el Tigre would say: No son gr-r-randes!

(Nutrition Facts — 1 cup — 110 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 gram of total fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 135 milligrams of sodium, 45 milligrams of potassium, 26 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 12 grams of sugars, 13 grams of other carbohydrates, and 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Choco Zucaritas… I mean, Frosted Flakes Chocolate
Price: $2.93
Size: 18 ounces
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Learning Spanish while I eat breakfast.  Smells just like Cocoa Krispies.  The Monster Squad.  Satisfying your curiosity.  Peanut butter cups.  The first 1:18 of “The Final Countdown.”  Both individual tastes are good.
Cons: Chocolate and frosting tastes do not mesh well.  That much hype is a lot to live up to, and it doesn’t.  Choosing French in school.  Simultaneous rap battles.  My rhymes.  No son grandes.