Dude Taste-Tests 22 YEAR-OLD BATMAN CEREAL. Hats Off, My Friend.

…So I’m not really certain of the gender of Food junk, though I do liberally apply the term “dude” to peoples of all genders, genitals, and combinations of both. What I am certain of is that Food Junk is a blog-person carved out of the same insanity as me. Taste-testing a 22 year-old  cereal? Tremendous.

Boing Boing:

FoodJunk, whose blog details the flavors and sensations to be had from junk food, bought a 22-year-old unopened package of Batman cereal on eBay and tried it. The results weren’t good. Bad news for anyone with a superhero-themed apocalypse stockpile, and something to remember for the next time you’re telling a story about someone poking through the rubble of a fallen civilization for scraps and happening upon a mint-in-package box of sugary cereal.

I was hoping for some kind of honey nut aroma remnants upon opening the bag. Sadly, the villain in this issue is The Plastic. He has taken over virtually all of Gotham. The thick plastic inner bag held up perfectly (take that Earth!) and did a great job of keeping the cereal dry and crisp, but the air inside was thick with chemicals. And not the kind that would put a cool maniacal smile on your face.

The Plastic co-opted the cereal’s taste as well. It laid waste to all of the little yellow multigrain bat symbols.

You can taste the sweetness, but the original honey nut flavor is barely recognizable. It’s there, but it’s not worth diving into this vat of toxins to get to. The plastic tang is quite powerful and lingered in my mouth for quite a while until I was able to defeat it with a little help from the always helpful sidekick, A Spoonful of Peanut Butter (Jif Wonder?).

I added a little milk and things only got worse. Giving The Plastic a liquid assault vehicle with which to wreak havoc was a bad idea. It sort of felt like suckling on the end of a caulking gun. I stopped after a few bites, as I was convinced I could feel the bat days being torn from the end of my bat life.

A tip of the cowl to you, Food Junk. As someone who has been (honestly) brainstorming a column here at OL titled “I Eat Shit” where I detail the various food-based maladies I inflict on myself, I can say with certainty “I see you!” and I also see your “quivering, fatigued heart and valves”. My the wind be ever at your feet, and shit.