Tuesday 28 February 2012

The First Deadly Cin



Cinnabons
There’s a whole category of cinnamon based breakfast cereals in the US that don’t seem to exist in Europe. It’s an omission that I fail to understand, because cinnamon is a great friend of those who like sweet flavours and don’t want to be overpowered by sugar.

The first of these that I am trying is Kellogg’s Cinnabon cereal. Cinnabon is absolutely everywhere in the US. I think you can find them occasionally in Britain, usually in those giant soulless shopping malls that surround London. They tend to run little stands and sell cinnamon buns, as the name might imply.

These are big, doughy buns absolutely smothered and swamped in sugar, with cinnamon as the least unhealthy element in the mix. And they’re delicious, if overwhelming.

In the US, the cinnabon has escaped the mall and is now all over the grocery stores, in all kinds of frozen bread products and, I suspect, in coffee creamers and coffees and probably cookies and I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a Cinnabon pasta some time soon.

Why anyone thought it was a good idea to create a breakfast cereal out of these is beyond my understanding. It is, I think, a lack of imagination on the part of US cereal manufacturers – something I can’t normally accuse them of – to desperately try and make a breakfast cereal out of something else (see: Eggo Waffles, Reese’s Puffs, previously).

This time they’ve actually done a very good job. The Cinnabon cereal is genuinely delicious. They’re miniature versions of the cinnamon roll, or perhaps mini-Princess-Leia-hairs (and would be a good suggestion for anyone who is trying to make edible Star Wars characters...), and therefore look a little odd.

In terms of flavour, they’re sweet but not as sweet as the Cinnabon buns – either that or you eat them in small enough portions for the sugar to not completely overpower in the way that the buns do. And they don’t have that stickiness of the sugary frosting which helps.

The texture overall is pretty good. They’re crunchy, and stay crunchy in the milk. They’re not too aerated and therefore don’t float, which means you can get at the milk beneath. There’s a density that means they’re actually fairly satisfying to eat.

The remnants of a lego Leia genocide
The cinnamon flavour is quite strong, but not so much that it gets up your nose. You can just about taste some kind of grain at the base of the cereal, too, which is something I like; something that makes a breakfast feel breakfast. I like the fake sugary notes, but I prefer them to be balanced with just a little bit of something real (although here, not so real that I could actually tell you what the grain at the base of the Cinnabon is).

So, here we have something of a winner. It tastes good, it has a good texture, it’s pretty artificial and stupid. It seems to score highly on all counts. 

Thursday 2 February 2012

Nobody Can Eat Three Mini-Wheats


Mini box of Mini-Wheats

Back in the late 70s and early 80s, and maybe before (but I’m too young to know) there was a long running advertising campaign featuring what appeared, to the undiscerning British eye, globe bestriding sporting colossuses (colossi?) such as Brian Clough and Ian Botham claiming that “Nobody could eat three Shredded Wheat”.

Back then, in Britain, the only size of Shredded Wheat was massive, fist sized things. Over time, Shredded Wheat bite size came to dominate, to the extent that I can barely remember the original full sized ones.

Over here in America, Beth decided to buy me – to help with this mission, although I don’t know if it’s cheating – a selection pack of single serving sizes of various cereals. The first one I went for was the Frosted Mini Wheats.  Now, I’ve had a long, rigorous survey of two, maybe three supermarkets, and I’ve not noticed any full sized wheats. Perhaps America only actually has mini-wheats, although the name would seem odd considering that most companies aren’t desperate to advertise the mini-ness of their products, unless the mini-ness is in comparison to a previous version that was unwieldy – like the previously mentioned original Shredded Wheat.

Mini-portion of Mini-wheats
Upon opening the box, I was taken back to that advertising campaign of my youth – because a single serving of Mini-Wheats (frosted) seems to have about three shredded wheat. It’s a shockingly tiny portion. Now, I’ve been mocking serving sizes all through this, but this is just farcical. Nobody can eat three mini-wheats, because they don’t put three in the box.

The size issue aside, which can be easily resolved by buying a normal box and pouring out a proper sized helping, the mini wheats are actually very good. But we all know that. I think everyone the world over knows the plain, fairly pleasant wheaty flavour and how it desperately needs sugar to stop it tasting like cardboard; and how the strands of the wheat can be desperately, inedibly dry without milk, but can turn to a mush when left in too long. But in that exact moment of perfect balance, turns out to be really delicious.

On the positive side of the single-serve packet, there are much fewer of the crumbs in the bottom that make the last helping you get from a normal package turn into something the consistency of wallpaper glue.

Anyway, here’s a short review in honour of the tiny portion of cereal. Perfectly nice, very familiar, the kind of cereal you could eat every day for breakfast but not the kind to get you giddy with excitement.