I'm surprised the Cinnamon Toast Crunch chef has never been offered his own cooking show. What more does he need to do? Every year, Wendell whips up millions and millions of boxes of the most delicious cereal I have tasted in my lifetime.
Wendell has spent many more years in the public eye than, say, Rachael Ray or Guy Fieri, yet he's never had a chance to shine on TV like they have. With his talent, experience, and smile that can light up a room, he could have become the male Julia Child. Maybe his life story could have been turned into a film starring Meryl Streep in the lead role. I have no doubts she would've earned an Oscar nomination for her performance.
Alas, TV stardom wasn't in the cards for Wendell, for whatever reason. If it's any consolation to him, he is my favorite cereal mascot. I do not make this statement lightly, because I have a soft spot in my heart for many of the mascots.
I'd even say I feel a twinge of empathy for a couple of them. Take, for example, the Trix rabbit, who has starred in the most effective series of anti-bullying PSAs I've seen. The years and years of torment from those selfish children who have refused to share their cereal has to have taken its toll on that poor rabbit.
And whenever I eat Corn Flakes, I pause for a moment to reflect on the rooster who lost his eye during production of the cereal.
Wendell has led an easier life, as far as I can tell. But he's the only chef I'm aware of who can bake toasty cereal squares with real cinnamon and sugar in every bite, and that ought to count for a lot. Take that, Rachael Ray and Guy Fieri.
He's also the only chef I'm aware of who channels all of his energy into making cereal, and nothing but cereal. He understands the value in a good bowl of cereal. I appreciate this, because I'm relentlessly teased for eating a lot of cereal. I'd estimate I consume five or six bowls per day. I practically live off of cereal. I would be content if I ate cereal for every single meal for the rest of my life.
But I've been told many times I need more variety in my meals. Why, I'm not sure, but I'm constantly feeling pressure to learn how to cook -- pressure from family, from friends, and even from cereal manufacturers.
Ever notice that cereal makers print recipes on the back of their boxes? They have all sorts of ideas for special snacks or desserts I can bake with their squares, their flakes, their toasted rice. These companies are totally missing the point of why I buy their products. I don't want to cook; that's why I'm eating cereal.
Pour cereal to top of bowl. Add milk. Add fruit if desired. Add spoon and serve. Yields one. That's the only recipe I need to follow.
In any event, the argument that my diet lacks variety is an invalid one. Not only do I eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch, I eat Frosted Toast Crunch and Peanut Butter Toast Crunch, too. And, who knows, we might have had even more flavors had a network bothered to give Wendell his own cooking show.
