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I compared brand-name cereals to Walmart's cheaper generic versions. I'll never buy some pricier options again.

✇Latest News
By: Ted Berg
14 May 2025 at 07:03
Ten boxes of brand-name and generic cereals on a kitchen counter.
I tried five brand-name cereals against cheaper Walmart alternatives.

Ted Berg

  • I did a taste test of five brand-name cereals and their cheaper generic alternatives from Walmart.
  • I preferred the brand-name versions of Honey Nut Cheerios and Honey Bunches of Oats.
  • However, I actually liked the Walmart versions of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Frosted Flakes better.

A box of name-brand cereal may not seem like an especially luxurious purchase, but when you're trying to buy enough for a hungry family of four, the cost can add up.

Luckily, Walmart offers generic alternatives to practically every popular cereal brand under its Great Value label.

These "dupes" tend to be cheaper, and I wanted to see if I could save money on groceries in the future while keeping my 7-year-old and 4-year-old just as satisfied.

So, we did blind taste tests to try five famous cereals alongside their respective generic alternatives.

Here's how they stacked up, and which were worth the savings.

Prices may vary by location.

Great Value Honey Nut O's were way cheaper than Honey Nut Cheerios.
Boxes of Walmart Great Value Honey Nut O's and General Mills Honey Nut Cheerios, with bowls of each cereal in milk.
The Great Value Honey Nut O's were much cheaper than the brand-name version.

Ted Berg

To start, we compared General Mills Honey Nut Cheerios to Great Value Honey Nut O's.

The 10.5-ounce box of Honey Nut Cheerios cost $3.68, or $0.35 an ounce. Walmart's version was significantly cheaper at $1.87 for a 12-ounce box, or $0.16 an ounce.

Out of the box, it was fairly easy to tell the difference between the two. The generic O's were a bit larger and had a lighter color than the Honey Nut Cheerios. The brand-name version also appeared to have a shiny, sugary sheen that the generic lacked.

Most of us preferred the brand-name Honey Nut Cheerios.
A bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios with milk.
The brand-name Honey Nut Cheerios had more honey flavor.

Ted Berg

Of the five cereal pairs we tasted, these two options seemed the least similar. The generic version was a bit crunchier and a touch less mushy after a few minutes in milk. However, it had a starchy texture that verged on chalkiness.

Overall, the General Mills cereal had more honey flavor and a heartier, oaty taste than the generic.

My 4-year-old couldn't tell the brand from the generic by taste for most of the cereals we tested. With this one, however, she had no problem distinguishing the two. She actually preferred the generic to the Honey Nut Cheerios, possibly because she doesn't really like the taste of honey.

My 7-year-old also had no trouble telling the difference, but he and I both preferred the original.

Honey Bunches of Oats seemed to have a better mix of ingredients than the generic alternative.
Boxes of Walmart Great Value Crunchy Honey Oats and Post Honey Bunches of Oats, with bowls of each cereal in milk.
Honey Bunches of Oats seemed to have a better mix of cornflakes and granola.

Ted Berg

This was actually my first time trying both the Post Honey Bunches of Oats and its generic alternative.

I picked up an 18-ounce box of the brand-name version for $4.93, or $0.27 an ounce. The Great Value alternative cost $2.67 for an 18-ounce box, which broke down to $0.15 an ounce.

At first glance, I could tell the Honey Bunches of Oats had a better mix of cornflakes and granola. The granola in the Walmart alternative was harder to find and clumped together.

I think brand-name Honey Bunches of Oats are worth paying extra for.
A bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats with milk.
I thought the Honey Bunches of Oats were distinctly sweeter than their Walmart alternative.

Ted Berg

Here, too, all three of us could consistently tell the difference between the brand name and generic cereals.

The Honey Bunches of Oats were distinctly sweeter than the Walmart alternative, which I thought tasted bland and mostly reminiscent of Corn Flakes.

In this case, we all preferred the brand-name Honey Bunches of Oats and were surprised by how much we enjoyed them. The flakes were nice and sweet, and the granola added some light crunch.

Of the five cereals we tried, this one built the strongest case for paying more for the name brand.

We could easily distinguish between Cinnamon Toast Crunch and the Walmart version.
Boxes of Walmart Great Value Cinnamon Crunch and General Mills Cinnamon Toast Crunch, with bowls of each cereal in milk.
Visually, it was easy to tell these two cereals apart.

Ted Berg

Next, we tried General Mills' Cinnamon Toast Crunch against Great Value Cinnamon Crunch.

The General Mills version cost $2.97 for a 12-ounce box, which is about $0.25 an ounce. The Great Value option was $2.98 for a larger 20.5-ounce box, or about $0.15 an ounce.

This pair was the easiest to distinguish visually among the five cereals we compared. The brand-name offering was noticeably smaller and darker, with "swirls" of cinnamon sugar on each piece.

I preferred Walmart's cinnamon cereal.
A bowl of Great Value Cinnamon Crunch cereal with milk.
The Great Value Cinnamon Crunch was airy and light.

Ted Berg

These options also tasted distinctly different to me and my 7-year-old, though my 4-year-old thought they tasted the same.

The 7-year-old preferred the Cinnamon Toast Crunch, which was a bit sweeter, crunchier, and denser. It held up a little better in milk and didn't get soggy as quickly.

In this case, I liked the generic better because it felt airier and less sweet.

The Great Value Rice Crisps were much cheaper than Kellogg's Rice Krispies.
Boxes of Kellogg's Rice Krispies and Walmart Great Value Rice Crisps, with bowls of each cereal in milk.
I thought the Kellogg's Rice Krispies and Great Value Rice Crisps tasted similar.

Ted Berg

Next up was Kellogg's Rice Krispies versus Great Value Rice Crisps.

The Kellogg's version cost me $4.98 for an 18-ounce box, making each ounce $0.28. I purchased a 12-ounce box of the Walmart version for $1.98, or $0.17 an ounce.

I noticed the generic cereal consisted of larger crisps that appeared more yellow than their brand-name counterparts.

Kellogg's Rice Krispies were a bit sweeter than the generic alternative.
A bowl of Kellogg's Rice Krispies with milk.
Overall, both cereals tasted very similar.

Ted Berg

I thought these two cereals tasted very similar. To me, though, the brand name was a touch sweeter, and the generic had a slight aftertaste of cardboard.

However, neither of my kids could tell the difference and I probably couldn't either without trying them side-by-side.

I preferred the Great Value version for rice-cereal treats.
Two Rice Krispy treats on white plates, with Kellogg's and Great Value cereal boxes in the background.
I'd definitely use the Great Value version to make rice-cereal treats.

Ted Berg

I'm not usually a huge fan of Rice Krispies in a bowl of milk, but I love them in treat form. So, after tasting both cereals, we turned them into bars using marshmallows and butter.

The marshmallow flavor was strong enough to negate any difference between the two cereals. The sticky treats tasted almost exactly the same.

If I'm shopping at Walmart the next time I want to make a batch, I will definitely go with the generic option to save money.

The Great Value Frosted Flakes were significantly cheaper than the Kellogg's version.
Boxes of Kellogg's Frosted Flakes and Walmart Frosted Flakes, with bowls of each cereal in milk.
Both versions of Frosted Flakes looked similar.

Ted Berg

Though Walmart's generic answer to Kellogg's Frosted Flakes goes by the same name, it represented one of the biggest discounts of the group on a per-ounce basis.

The 12-ounce box of Kellogg's Frosted Flakes cost $3.98, or $0.33 an ounce. The 13.5-ounce Great Value version cost $1.93, or $0.14 an ounce.

They looked very similar, though the generic one again appeared slightly more yellow in color.

We couldn't tell the difference between the Great Value and brand-name Frosted Flakes.
A bowl of Great Value Frosted Flakes with milk.
I'd definitely buy the Great Value Frosted Flakes again.

Ted Berg

These two cereals tasted almost exactly the same to us: sugary, crunchy at first, and mushy after a couple of minutes in milk.

Of the five generic cereals we tried, the Great Value Frosted Flakes were the only ones that we couldn't distinguish from the original by taste.

I thought the brand name might have had a slightly more assertive sweetness to it, but I wasn't able to pick it out reliably in our blind taste test.

In this case, I think buying the cheaper Walmart version is a no-brainer.

Read the original article on Business Insider

Why the cereal aisle is getting so swole

✇Latest News
By: Katie Notopoulos
13 February 2025 at 05:14
Cheerios is pumped up.

Cheerios; Getty Images; Chelsea Jia Feng/BI

  • General Mills and other brands are launching high-protein versions of their products.
  • This trend mirrors past health fads like low-carb and low-fat diets, with new influences.
  • Social media and health influencers are amplifying the protein craze and other diet trends.

Protein is having a moment, and big packaged food brands like General Mills are keeping up.

An article I read that fascinated me on New York Magazine's Grub Street looks at how big brands synonymous with carbs — Wheaties and Cheerios, for example — are trying to muscle their way into the latest craze for more protein.

(Wheaties Protein Maple Almond offers 22 grams of protein, up from 3 grams in the classic Wheaties flavor. That's some swole flakes.)

Big supermarket brands launching high-protein versions of their stapes (I await protein Oreos, personally) feels like the absolute peak of a food/health trend cycle. As Grub Street points out, this isn't so far off from the Atkins low-carb craze of the 2000s or the low-fat fad of the 1990s. (I will forever remember the taste and texture of the SnackWell low-fat brownie.)

Underlining the trend, General Mills said in December, when it launched a high-protein version of Cheerios, that its research showed 71% of consumers were trying to get more protein in their diets, and their new products were looking to "meet people where they are."

Of course, there are new factors at plan now, too, like patients on Ozempic whose doctors encourage them to eat diets high in protein to aim to prevent muscle loss, which can be a side effect of GLP-1 inhibitors.

Health food fads come and go — for example, gut health drinks seem to be the latest version of antioxidant-rich beverages. (Remember Pom Wonderful?) Olipop, a line of canned beverages marketed as a healthy version of soda, just raised $50 million in a funding round that valued it at $1.85 billion, Bloomberg reported.

MAHA movement and others help push health trends on social

I have a theory that social media of this moment has supercharged protein mania.

There seems to have been a vibe shift that exhibits itself in more nontraditional health crazes lately: Think the MAHA movement, raw milk influencer moms, the Liver King, and other carnivore diet enthusiasts. Then there's the popularity of pop science gurus like Andrew Huberman espousing diet and exercise ideas.

This kind of stuff has always existed — and I'm not a health expert, so some of these things might or might not be for you — but I do know a lot about the culture of the moment, and it feels like these ideas about optimization and macros and an obsession with protein have gone — forgive the obvious metaphor — on steroids.

There's real science behind how getting more protein in your diet is (probably) a good idea. I have even found myself influenced to try eating more protein (although with these egg prices, I'm not sure I can afford to).

Still, maybe don't take things as far as Grub Street writer Chris Gayomali did, when he did this:

I came across a category of people who drink chicken-breast smoothies. Rather than subjecting themselves to supplements or powders, they'll throw some shredded chicken breast into a blender with other smoothie ingredients.

I was curious. Maybe this concoction could offer a perfect marriage of the unprocessed simplicity of chicken breast with the convenient efficiency of a protein bar. So after picking up a pack of chicken tenderloins at the store and boiling three (150 grams uncooked, about 48 grams of protein), I tore the chunks of flesh into the blender and added a splash of water plus everything I could find in my freezer: the crumbly end of a bag of raspberries, two bananas, some blueberries, a forgotten package of açai.

The result looked like a normal berry smoothie and, on first sip, tasted like one. Then the back end arrived, coating my tongue in what I can only describe as a slick film with the viscosity and taste of a can of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup.

I don't think I'll ever recover from visualizing that, Chris!

Read the original article on Business Insider
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