Quaker True Delights Wild Blueberry Muffin Instant Oatmeal

I always wing a silent appeal to the Flying Spaghetti Monster as I dive into my first bit of foods that try to copy other foods. It hardly seems a little farfetched, like the Flying Spaghetti Monster himself, to pass so much time and research money to have a food but to experience it taste like something else. And so it's like a cruel joke- to the blind."Wait, the love is this? I ordered a muffin." LOL!

hat's really not queer at all. But I outsource my writing these days, so blame India for my problems. Quaker True Delights Wild Blueberry Muffin Instant Oatmeal, aside from being a card-carrying member of the Obnoxiously Long Title Association, does just that- play a cruel joke on my mouth by failing at both the food it attempts to mimic and the actual food form it comes in. I usually combine the Quakers as far as doctrine and oatmeal go. It's a post that has stayed unwaveringly familiar after all these years, despite a failed advertising scheme with the ever-obscure Jordin Sparks, now relegated to informing America about products that ensure healthy bowel movements and artery declogging. Ahem. The man on the box isn't nearly as scary as the Burger King. And it's a respectable and soft food to make.I'm sure you already know by now that this does not taste like a muffin. Far from it. Maybe gas station muffin batter, whatever that means. But I was surprised when this fell far from my normal expectations of Quaker Oatmeal. It was pretty bad. From the get-go, the oatmeal, after being mixed with boiling water, had a creamy, slimy texture, suggesting the gain of a creamer for an experience with more indulgences than Tetzel. Hey-o! The tone was still stranger. Despite being dotted by small, turd-like "wild blueberries," about as "idle" as shrunken testicles, it carried the burden of tasting identical to the unpleasant combination of both maize and coffee creamer. No joke. And the coffee creamer was really a welcome change compared to the unfamiliarity of the other flavors. The blueberry flavor disappeared in the strange myriad of all the other flavors and when isolated, tasted fake. Come on. Even McDonald's makes syrup balls that actually taste like syrup.It seems as though Quaker, in a brazen foodglomerate experiment, tried too hard on the "muffin" aspect of their oatmeal and rested on their honor with the oatmeal. Too bad, because that's the primary reason why I ate it in the foremost place. Otherwise I would have eaten a freaking muffin and left it at that. Quaker normally scores high with their breakfasts, but in this case, seems like too far of a pass to insure success on.