It's Christmas, people. A time for reflection, familial bonding (in whatever form,) and rampant, rabid indulgence. Gifts. Food. Booze. And in some cases, blatantly useless yet fascinating gifts that we must have right now. One of these gifts is from Me and Goji, a customized blend of artisanal cereal that you create and they make. Imagine a gift along the lines of mixing all the remnants of the boxes of Post cereal together, but jacked up about thirty notches and thirty dollars. It's a very simple concept- pick a base, add-ins, fruit and nuts, and a name for your cereal box.
Oh, wait. Did I say cereal box? My mistake, I'm rather gauche. This is, as M&G would say, a cereal capsule. The capsule, straight out of Star Trek: The Last Enterprise, was "influenced by modern-minimalist interior design" in a bold move to create not a mere vessel, but an art piece that one could display to friends and President Obama. There was also an option to add an image to the packaging. In that spirit, I customized my cereal capsule with a festive self-portrait.My cereal contained a base of choco granola, a double dosage of chocolate covered peanuts, goldenberries, raspberries, chocolate chips and chocolate covered goji. I named it PB&J Poon, for the discerning adult palate looking to combine coitus with comfort. Comfort is a key point as this contains 199.5 calories per half cup serving with 286.3 of those calories coming from fat. Wait, what?That's right.
Opening the capsule, it's clear that this is the champagne of breakfast cereals. Best paired with a 1962 Petrus, I'm sure, but a cocktail of Suduiraut and Veuve Clicquot (pictured) will do in a pinch. It's crammed with goodies and filled 3/4ths of the way to the top. What really irked me at first was that despite choosing a double helping of chocolate covered peanuts, there were barely any to be found in the capsule. I suspect they had settled to the bottom, but even after a good shake, they were still missing in action. However, I did encounter a foreign object in my search- a small dime bag with two dried cranberries and a note proclaiming "a taste of the bog in your bowl." This was all well and good, but a wee bit patronizing. If I had the presence of mind to order a cereal with goji berries and acai powder, there is no way in hell I haven't tasted dried cranberries. Doi.Everything tasted quite good, as I would expect from a $20 breakfast cereal. The granola was crispy with a hint of salt and the perfect amount of sugar. The raspberries were my favorite aspect of the cereal, with a slight saltiness from the granola and a gummy bearesque, chewy texture. I'd have gladly eaten those independently of the cereal. The goldenberries were a little seedy, but had a tart, robust flavor. I don't know why I decided to put goji berries in the cereal, as everyone who knows anything knows that they taste like stale semen, but I must have been overly caught up in the glamor of high living. They continue to taste like semen. Semen with a $2/half cup price tag. Even Fabio can't command that kind of a price.
It's not really practical to recommend this to people outside of the demographic of those who keep a stack of Hermes scarves on top of the john in lieu of toilet paper, because justifying that expense would make me an asshole. But I do have to put in an endorsement for its fresh, bright flavors ; it is clearly made with a better set of ingredients than the generic brand cereals Swagger replaces in his used name brand boxes. (Busted!) I have no sensible reason to order this again, but it was fun to live lavishly for a brief moment.
Labels: 8, breakfast, organic, snack