If you were to ask a young child what his favorite cold cereal was, he would probably say, “Lucky Charms,” or “Frosted Flakes.” In part, the predictability of his response derives from the fact that he is young and is thus more vulnerable to the marketing ploys of a psychotic leprechaun and snowboarding tiger. On the other hand, though I’ve found no reliable statistics, it seems likely that asking adults the same question would supply you with as wide a variety of answers as there are cereals. This is because although adults, unlike children, are less interested in how “grrrrrreat” a cereal is than how nutritious and tasty it is. By these two standards, nutrition and taste, I put it to you that Kellog’s Raisin Bran is the best breakfast cereal in existence.
If, in our increasingly unlikely hypothetical scenario, you asked an adult who favors taste over nutrition why the taste of their favorite cereal is superior to that of all others, they would either be at a loss for words, or mutter something vague about sugar and artificial flavoring. And indeed they would be justified in being vague, because eating an unhealthy cereal just because it tastes good is completely absurd. This hypothetical adult would be experiencing mild cognitive dissonance; it would slowly be dawning on them that if you’re going to eat something unhealthy, why not eat something that tastes really good? Like ice cream or chocolate?
So eventually it would be conceded that taste is probably not the most important factor in determining the worth of a cereal. An argument would probably be put forth suggesting that a balance of taste and nutrition is desirable. Such foolish people are either drunk or have never experienced the trip commonly known as Raisin Bran.
Why It’s the Best
Raisin Bran dodges the entire question of “balancing” nutrition and taste. It has both. What its ingenious creators realized is that the taste of a cereal isn’t entirely dependent on its sweetness and sugar content. While sweetness is an important contributor to overall taste, a blend of tastes is essential to an optimal gustatory experience.
And so it is the double-barreled action from the raisins and the bran that makes the taste of Raisin Bran superior. The soaring flavors of the sweet raisins dance in harmony with the more grounded flavors of the starchy bran. This dance brings joyous life to every bite of one’s breakfast.
Indeed, once such a wonderful sensation has been revealed to your taste buds you might wonder if nutrition even matters. Perhaps it doesn’t to you, but it certainly did to the cereal engineers at Kellog’s. Naysayers like those at Calorie Count might give Raisin Bran outrageously low “Nutrition Grades” (B, in this case), but the only grievance they have is that Raisin Bran is “very high in sugar.” Well of course it is. Sugar is fantastic! It’s not even bad for you. Or rather, it’s not bad for you unless you consume so much that you don’t burn off the calories it supplies during the day. And if that’s the case, you’re probably a fatty anyway, so you don’t care.
“Two Scoops” Is Bullshit
A friend of mine did a statistical analysis on the amount of raisins in a box of Raisin Bran and found that if a the average box actually contains “two scoops of raisins,” then a scoop must be about ¼ of a cup. This is, as I see it, the greatest failing of Raisin Bran. Don’t get me wrong; they don’t need to add more raisins, they just need to think of a better marketing strategy. The current ratio of bran to raisins could only be more divine if it were 
Prescription Drugs…
October 30, 2008…they help me through the day.
What’s the deal with every single kid being on prescription meds nowadays? Even if they aren’t diagnosed with ADD/ADHD they’re still force-fed some bizarre cocktail of mood, personality, and fun suppressants.
Certainly some children have real psychological disorders that can be helped with drugs but not every kid does. It’s like parents have adopted the attitude where if somethings wrong, just throw meds at it until the problem fixes itself. Kid got in a fight? Medicate. Kid’s getting bad grades? Medicate. Kid’s crying? Medicate.
What these parents fail to recognize is that kids’ behavior hasn’t really changed in the past two thousand years. “But my two year-old tore up the curtains!” Yeah, he’s two.
Maybe modern parents just don’t want the responsibility of shaping a child’s future… so they let Prozac do it for them.