Are Kellogg's New Frosted Flakes And Rice Krispies Spinoffs Worthy Of The Originals?

Like movie studios who must milk every possible iteration of a superhero franchise for at least a dozen spinoffs, food companies have also realized that they can stretch one hit into an entire line of related products by adding new flavors. Enter three new Kellogg's cereals: Banana Creme Frosted Flakes, Honey Nut Frosted Flakes, and Strawberry Krispies. Are these welcomed new members of the Frosted Flakes/Rice Krispies families, or just weird step-cousins who've come to crash the party? All three hit store shelves in January.

Opening the box unleashes a wafting cloud of banana-Runts aroma. The flakes are visibly sugar-coated, like the classic Frosted Flakes, but there's no mistaking them for anything other than banana-scented. Without milk, the flakes offer little besides sugar, banana, and crunch. Milk improves the flavor, if only by diluting the sugar a bit to a manageable-for-adults level. The texture, as with the regular Frosted Flakes, is superb throughout the time it takes to finish the bowl. No soggy flakes here.

Bottom line: If you like sliced bananas on your cereal, it's still a pretty far cry.

Grade: C-

Honey Nut, as it pertains to Cheerios, is one of the most beloved breakfast flavors. Does its success extend to a different cereal medium? Turns out, it does. Eating these Honey Nut Frosted Flakes is like eating Honey Bunches Of Oats, but minus the clusters. They're not overly sweet, with a solid balance of honey and corn that feels less saccharine than other cereals. If you expect them to be just like Honey Nut Cheerios, you'll be disappointed, since that cereal's oat base gives it a crumbly texture, whereas Frosted Flakes shatter upon biting. Still, these are a worthy expansion of the Honey Nut name, and the only cereal of the three that I happily ate seconds of.

Bottom line: This is a third cereal option for fans of Honey Bunches Of Oats or Honey Nut Cheerios.

Grade: B+

The peach-orange color of the dried cereal isn't terribly appealing (Flamin' Hot Rice Krispies, anyone?), but I can't tell if it's more or less off-putting than the nuclear pink the bowl turns once you add milk. Kids might delight in it, but as a grown-ass woman all I can do is watch with bewilderment as the quickly-waterlogged Krispies turn to fuchsia goo. The flavor reminds me of Pop Rocks, and in the first two minutes after adding milk, when the Krispies are still crispy, they almost have the same textural sensation. After two minutes elapse, you're left with a bowl of lumpy strawberry Kwik.

Bottom line: Kids might like it?

Grade: D