The Boo Berry Experiment

"Learn from me, if not by my precepts, at least by my example, how dangerous is the acquirement of knowledge and how much happier that man is who believes his native town to be the world, then he who aspires to become greater that his nature will allow."

- Dr. Frankenstein

I'll spare you my usual five paragraph sob story about how I don't like cereal marshmallows and how that's prevented me from participating in a great many novelty treat and tie-in jubilee. Ghostbusters and Ninja Turtles aside, the thought of these stale, milk soaked gummy bears integrated into my whole grain oats has forever barred me from one of the best and brightest Halloween hallmarks since I've been alive: The General Mills Monster Cereals. 

 

As a child who loved monsters (especially the Universal kind) I was only ever fascinated by their cartoon counterparts that graced the boxes of these yucky cereals. At least, I was sure they were yucky; just for context here, I tried Lucky Charms as a kid and I was gravely disappointed by the taste and texture of the colorful little treasures that, while pretty, ruined an otherwise delicious product. So, the likes of Count Chocula, Frankenberry, and Boo Berry (and from 1988 to 1993, Fruity Yummy Mummy) were simply not for me. Whatever, I could enjoy them from afar without having to actually buy the box and eat the cereal - being alive at the same time as them was satisfactory. And then Internet Culture started and everyone began flaunting and bragging and gushing every time the boxes got an upgrade and I was left feeling like Charlie Bucket with no ticket. And then, in 2010, the cereals became exclusively seasonal, making them a bigger deal as the allure and mystique began to grow, and still those stupid ass marshmallows were like garlic and holy water to me. Then a few years ago I had the wild idea to buy a box of the stuff and simply pick out the poison by hand. An idea so wild that I dare not try it till several years later. CUT TO: Present Day. 

 

After roughly four decades of sour grapes, it no longer became about the monsters or the boxes or even the holiday participation of it -- really, I just wanted to try the cereal, specifically Boo Berry. I mean, yes, he is by far my favorite character in the lineup (the color, the hat, the fact that he's a Peter Lorre ghost hanging out with 19th Century Euro Lit characters) but in my old age I'm mostly just in it for the sugary sensation (absent of its chalky gelatin garnish). And so this year - the year I try Monster Cereal - the incidental theme of the artwork is the characters reimagined as Jim Henson puppets. This had no influence on my decision to finally pull the trigger, I'm not exactly a Muppet Adult, but I will say they came out great; the sparseness with the white background is a well known favorite aesthetic of mine, and the actual likenesses of the puppets are incredibly (and I'm sure intentionally) nostalgic. I'm certain this glow-up would be just as effective with any food mascot. 

 

There they are. I see you in there you chewy motherfuckers. You know, just so we're clear once again, I actually do like real marshmallows, but the thing with cereal marshmallows is that they're "formulated without water or whipping aids" in an attempt to keep their composure in milk - which has only ever seemed counterproductive to me because who wants styrofoam for breakfast? Not I. And so here I am, doing this chore like a goddamn picky eater (which I don't think I am but, desperate times...), and they're not easy to catch; despite being brightly colored these little misshapen ghosts and cats and whatevers don't wanna be found. I will not tolerate contamination, so what I thought would take 10 seconds actually took 30. Son of a bitching Boo Berry. 

 

I'll admit, I was expecting bluer. Like rich, royal blue velvet blue (it's not like they're shy with the dye, man, where are my sodium salts and aluminum lake?). But a big part of this journey is looking past looks and focusing on flavor. And so here is the essence of my discovery and conclusion: the cereal component of this particular General Mills Monster Cereal carries an incredibly subtle flavor that resembles nothing and walks the line between pleasant and bland. It shares the texture of its corn-based brethren like Trix and Cocoa Puffs, but I am in the position to only assume that its sugary fun (and in this case, its blueberriness) is probably largely located in the marshmallows. I'd already come to terms with the fact that my path would be a boring one because I had compromised the entirety of the experience, but now I know firsthand the perils of meddling with the primal forces of nature. Without its crappy marshmallows, it's like one of the dull, healthy cereals - without the healthy. Still, the box is nice.

- Paul