The Cereal Bowl

I ventured out to Cleveland Park yesterday to my favorite movie theater, The Uptown, and was shocked to discover the Starbucks that had once been two doors down was no longer in residence. Gasp and horror! That is how I had proposed to pass my pre-movie hour! I am not a big Starbucks fan. I find their coffee mediocre at best and am only occasionally impressed with the atmosphere; however, when I am expecting them to be there and a weird, alienish establishment called The Cereal Bowl appears to have abducted them and invaded the space, I cannot hide my disappointment. This new entity is nothing short of bizarre, and their business premise is centered around, you guessed it, selling bowls of cereal. I have to give them props for originality, but I'm pretty sure there is a reason this hasn't been done before. We're talking about stuff that costs $3 a box and is usually the "I don't have time to fix anything else or even toast a bagel so I guess I'm having cereal" home breakfast option. Crappy American chain hotels give it away in multi-colored abundance to guests during a ridiculously tiny window of time in the mornings so they can claim continental breakfast status. Europe called. They said, rather snootily, the reason it is called 'continental' is because it is breakfast served on The Continent (as in not North America) with lovely Brie, fresh meats and breads, incredible just-processed-from-the-cow yogurt, coffee like rich, smooth velvet on your tongue, and fruit grown off the tree out back. Cereal isn't continental breakfast, it's a lazy way to shovel calories in one's mouth in order to start the day.

The Cereal Bowl offers several variations on the cereal suicide with options like Fruity Pebbles®, Lucky Charms®, Grape Nuts®, Cinnamon Toast Crunch®, and the ever notorious Cookie Crisp®. All the favorites, but for $3.75 a bowl, I'll skip down to the grocery store and buy my own box, thanks. There are also optional ice cream sundae type toppings, but that still doesn't justify the extra dollar dollar bills yo for the experience. I don't need to meet my friends over a bowl of cereal. If I did, I'd have a slumber party. It is good to know, however, that if I'm disappointed by the previous choices, I can opt to spend too much money on Quaker® oatmeal or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Really? Three cheers for capitalism and burgeoning enterprise, but this is one idea that maybe should have been killed on the drawing board. Next thing you know, there will be a Spaghetti From a Box next door and a Soup Out of the Can down the street. Some things are just better left as items on a pantry shelf.