Biscuit Case

Like most citizens trapped in the middle class, I have done my share of grumbling about the state of our country and its failing institutions.

My displeasure had always been muted,  faint screams not heard beyond living room walls. Self-therapy for a powerless pawn.

Until a couple of years ago. That’s when I decided to challenge a corporate titan with a 23.0 billion market cap — to right a wrong, to ask for accountability, to demand an answer to a question that millions of Americans have no doubt been asking independently, in their kitchens, for the better part of the last decade: What Happened to the Sugar Frosting on My Mini Wheats?

If you’ve been consuming Frosted Mini Wheats consistently since their introduction, you know the horror of which I speak. Gone is the spectacular thick coating of white sweetness that used to blanket the biscuit. Today’s Frosted Mini Wheat is nearly naked, more an homage to the Dust Bowl than a candidate for your cereal bowl.

Frosting on a Frosted Mini Wheat. Too much to ask?

I realize that for some, this “issue” is trifle and my mission Quixotic. Fine. Those sweet souls can spend their spare time stopping the polar ice caps from melting.

But I also know that some of you will correctly connect this issue to the bigger picture: the Frosted Mini Wheat that was is the America that was. The 1990s heyday of the cereal paralleled the most recent heyday of our economy — a fatter, happier time when mayors of metropolitan cities celebrated excess with us instead of capping its limits at 16 ounces.

Below, find my opening salvo to the sugar misers at Kellogg’s:

“I would like to bring to your attention a possible mix up in production at your facility.

I am a huge fan of the Frosted Mini-Wheats Big Bite. Their market launch was modern-day manna from heaven. Recently, however, I have become quite disappointed with the sparse sugar coverage on my favorite cereal.

Is it possible that the sugary coating intended for the Bite Size Frosted Mini-Wheats is going on my Big Bites by mistake? Please check into this potential mix up. I am hoping that I am right and that you did not change the formula intentionally in order to bow to nutritional pressures.

The way I see it, when you market something as frosted, it should be good and frosted — whether it’s a beer mug, a woman’s hair, or my beloved Mini-Wheats. I mean, what’s next — Partially Frosted Flakes (“They’re so-so!”)

I eagerly await your prompt reply. I will be on a steady breakfast diet of toast and oatmeal until then.”

Here’s their predictable attempt to placate:

“Thank you for contacting us about Kellogg’s® Mini-Wheats® cereal. We are sorry that your experience with this product was unsatisfactory. We appreciate you being a huge fan of our product. This is one of my favorite cereals as well, so I can only imagine how it must have felt to not see enough frosting on them!

A report has been made to our Quality Assurance Department. Our goal is to provide consumers with wholesome, high quality products, and we have established strict control measures for each part of the manufacturing process from the delivery of ingredients to the distribution of finished packages. The information you provided will help ensure that our products and services continue to meet the highest quality standards.

Inspectors are continuously monitoring the amount of frosting on our products. Strict standards have been set that are to be maintained during production. Unfortunately, an occasional error can occur.

We hope you will be pleased with your next purchase, and are sending a coupon you can use the next time you shop. Our coupons can be used for any Kellogg’s® product. Please allow 7 – 10 days for delivery.”

Sincerely,

Consumer Affairs Department