I tried 3 British cereals – one was so hideous I can’t understand how people eat it

Some say breakfast is the most important meal of the day – others say that’s a marketing slogan made up by Kellogs to sell more cereal. Whichever you believe, it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t like at least one kind of cereal – and I happen to like plenty.

However, having grown up in New Zealand, some of the cereals that British kids ate are foreign to me, so as part of my cultural awakening I decided to give three of them a taste test. This is the latest in a long line of taste tests I have embarked on – from , to , to and even . I’ve made my way down the list of snack foods that Brits hold near and dear and found some new favourites, as well as some I’d gladly strike from the record entirely.

Here’s an honest review of the three cereals I tried, marked on their taste, texture and as a fun addition the quality of the milk residue they left behind, which in my mind is the true marker of a great cereal.

Honey Cheerios

I started with these because I for some reason thought they would be the most savoury of the bunch, even though it literally says ‘honey’ on the box. Imagine my surprise when the first mouthful was deliciously sweet – but not overly so.

The crunch was good, and I loved the delicate flavour of these, however, they did get a little soggy as time went on. As I was taking notes in between bites, I wasn’t eating as fast as I usually would, so I’ll let the sog slide a bit but not much.

These felt like I could actually eat them for breakfast without feeling too over-indulgent, but I didn’t like the way the texture turned to that of wet bread as the bowl went on.

The residual milk sip was a lacklustre, mostly just oat milk with a slight honey undertone but I wouldn’t say no to another bowl. These get a 7/10.

Crazy Cinnamon

There was no immediate craziness from these – I was expecting to be smacked in the face with a hot spicy punch of cinnamon when I poured the bowl, but no such luck.

What did hit me in the face was the crunch of my first bite – it was unbelievable. I’ve never had such a crispy cereal and I love things with a good bite so this was a definite plus for me.

The taste was not as exciting as the texture, but it was very nostalgic. It made me think of home baking, or a honey and lemon with cinnamon in it – my favourite when I’m under the weather.

I feel like a big bowl of this for breakfast would be really cloying though so I can’t imagine myself eating them as an actual meal – more of an after-dinner treat. I did really like that they stayed crunchy all the way through to the last bite.

When it came to the residual milk sip, I was impressed. The flavour was delicate but definitely present especially when it came down to the last sugary spicy drop. I reckon this cereal milk would make a banging milkshake.

All round, I liked them, so they get an 8/10.

Krave 

I saved these for last because I was the most excited for them but that excitement extinguished like a wet candle as soon as I popped the bag open and the aroma of dry cat food assailed my nostrils.

I took a deep breath, poured my milk and cracked on. I wish I hadn’t.

At first bite, I thought the chocolate inner was good, but whatever it was coated in had to go. At second bite, I thought that maybe it was the chocolate that was the problem after all.

On my third bite, I knew that the entire cereal was terrible. There was a weird bitterness to the exterior, and a cloying sweetness to the interior that created a horrible overwhelming sourness.

As I made my way through the bowl, the texture went from totally fine, to absolutely horrendous as a thin slime developed over all the little bits of cereal, which gave way to a sodden sucking stodge.

I cannot imagine eating this as an actual breakfast, and it did not feel like a sweet treat but rather something to be endured.

By the time I reached the residual milk sip, it was a relief to find that none of the Krave flavour had infiltrated the milk, and I could treat this sip as a palette cleanser to rid my mouth of what it had just endured.

The taste was gone, but the box of Krave still stands on my kitchen counter, mocking me. I give Krave a 0/10 and it’s lucky to get that.