Take a walk along the cereal aisle of the supermarket and you would think it was the epicentre of a wholesome diet. The garish packaging jostles for attention with comforting claims: High in fibre from whole grains! Fuels a healthy gut! Nine vitamins and minerals! Supporting your family’s health! On your side! Support healthy bones! Reduce tiredness and fatigue!
But how healthy are they really? The industry certainly wants us to think so: just last month, Gary Pilnick, the CEO of Kellogg’s – who make six of the top ten best-selling cereals in the UK – suggested that “cereal for dinner” was a “much more affordable” option for families struggling to cope with the cost of groceries.
The cost of many of Pilnick’s cereals make this a ridiculous claim, although a recent study by the Food Foundation showed that supermarket own-brand cereals were not only cheaper but also healthier than the brands. More insidious is the idea that some highly processed grains and a slosh of semi-skimmed is any kind of decent substitute for a proper evening meal of protein, vegetables and complex carbs.
There are other concerns too, in particular with fortification – those “with nine vitamins and minerals” claims. Some may be a good thing, for example vitamin D, which is produced in our bodies from sunlight and may be in short supply in the winter months. But as Marion Nestle, a professor of nutrition at New York University, points out in her book, Food Politics, “the increasingly common addition of vitamins and minerals” is unlikely to improve our health and “raises concerns about the possible hazards of too much of a good thing”. Nestle is unambiguous writing on her blog that “added vitamins are about marketing, not health”. They allow manufacturers to make health claims, and health claims sell – especially when they are distracting us from high levels of sugar and salt.
Take niacin (vitamin B3), a vital vitamin in the correct quantities that is added to many cereals. A recent study has shown links between excess levels of niacin and a raised risk of heart attacks, strokes and cardiac conditions. Another study, in the journal General Psychiatry, looked at thiamine (vitamin B1) – an important nutrient that’s boosted in breakfast cereals. People who ate large amounts, above 1mg a day, showed increased rates of cognitive decline, the confusion and memory loss that blights old age for many.
A 30g portion of Rice Krispies, fortified with thiamin, provides 0.27mg, potentially useful. However, there are plenty of other places, such as peas, bananas and wholemeal bread, where you might be getting enough already. And anyway, who eats the tiny portions that are recommended by the manufacturers? I weighed out the correct amount of each of the 14 cereals I tried, and frankly I’ve got egg cups that hold more than some of them.
Eating too much is particularly tempting with those cereals which fall into the ultra-processed food (UPF) category, which is any of them which are made using processes you couldn’t replicate at home, and contain ingredients you couldn’t buy in the supermarket. These temptingly marketed cereals are often hard to stop eating. In a House of Lords select committee last month, anti-UPF campaigner Dr Chris Van Tulleken held up a packet of Coco Pops and argued that big industry was peddling addictive products much like the tobacco industry. The packet of Kellogg’s Crunchy Nut Cornflakes sums it up in letters 4cm high: “The trouble is they taste too good.”
Let’s not tar all cereal with the same brush, though. There are cereals out there that do provide a decent start to the day. And there’s no doubt they provide a quick fix – albeit sometimes very quick, as they go soggy so fast that there’s an incentive to shovel it in at top speed. So sure, you may have already ditched cereals for breakfast, in pursuit of a less processed, lower carb option – but you may want to reconsider. The best provide a good source of fibre and complex, slow release carbohydrate. So don’t be a cereal killer: just pick and choose a wholesome option whose claims actually do stack up.
Astonishingly high in sugar and protein, although both these figures are skewed as there’s milk powder in already. Fair on fibre (3.6g) and contains flavouring and anticaking agent, so it’s ultra-processed.
Breakfast pot noodle style: just fill up from the kettle. The result is gluey and wildly sweet and tastes weirdly of caramel flavouring rather than golden syrup. Grim.
Yellow on the traffic light system for sugar (5.3g per 30g serving), and no great shakes for protein and fibre, and plenty of UPF ingredients including palm oil, antioxidant and colouring.
Sweet, crisp and airy with a caramel nuttiness. Slight grit of fibre in there but not enough to put off the kids, so it might be a gateway to higher fibre cereals. But it doesn’t seem very filling.
Fair on fibre (3.8g per two biscuit serving) and protein, not much sugar. But it contains malted barley extract, which Van Tulleken says is a flavour enhancer and puts these in the UPF category.
Gently malty and biscuity with the crispness quickly dissipating into mush. On the bland side. The packet suggests adding berries and seeds which seems like a good idea both for flavour and nutrition.
Added wheat gluten, a complete protein, brings this up to 7.6g per two biscuit serving. It has similar levels to regular Weetabix for sugar and fibre, as well as that UPF malted barley extract.
The texture is different – there are crunchy, nubbly bits that are reminiscent of Grape Nuts, and a faint, pleasant bitterness which may be down to some cocoa powder in the mix. I prefer these to the regular Weetabix.
Low in fibre, just 0.9g per 30g serving, 2.1g of protein and 2.4g of sugar. Contains barley malt extract, a UPF ingredient.
Gently sweet, almost honeyed, malty with a hint of bitter flavours which amplify the taste of the milk – no wonder cereal milk is a thing. Crisp, but turning soggy in about three minutes. Not filling.
For a cereal that sells itself as fibre-rich, 3.6g per 40g portion is disappointing. There’s a lot of sugar, although this will be partly down to the dried fruit. Contains barley malt extract so it’s ultra-processed.
Generously packed with fruit and coconut, and crisp sweet flakes that go soggy in three minutes. Very small official portion though (40g is just 100ml or half a teacupful). You would pour much more.
6.3g of protein per 50g serving, which is a good amount, a respectable 3.7g of fibre and 3.6g of sugars (partly down to the dried fruit). No barley malt extract, but there’s fructose, which according to Sao Paulo University’s professor Carlos Monteiro, one of the people who first identified the dangers of ultra-processed foods, is a marker for UPF.
Toasty oat and seed flavour, but finely chopped, not in clumps like a traditional granola. Quite sweet, but wholesome, although an official 50g portion measures just 75ml. “You’ll find nature’s most nutritious ingredients inside our cereals,” says the pack, which feels hyperbolic – there’s no Brazil nuts, to start with.
4.3g of protein, 4g of fibre and 6.6g of sugar per 45g serving – all of it from the dried fruit. Nothing even vaguely ultra-processed among the ingredients.
The official portion of 45g measures just 60ml or 4tbsp, making it more of a topping than a cereal in its own right. Just as well, as it’s heavy going, with raw tasting oats, and I can’t find the Brazil nuts.
Predictably sugary and low on the good stuff, at 1.9g of protein, 1.1g of fibre and 5.1g of sugars per 30g serving. Contains barley malt extract and flavourings.
I’m completely disarmed by these. Sweet but not overly so and thanks to the bitterness of the cocoa they are actually quite sophisticated. But I’d still rather have them for pudding than breakfast.
A whopping 11g of sugar, a measly 0.8g of fibre and even with the peanuts the protein is only 1.8g per 30g portion. It also contains barley malt extract and is so sweet I can feel my gums receding in panic, like I’ve eaten a pack of chocolate hobnobs. Except chocolate hobnobs have less sugar. Lordy.
4.5g of sugars – on the high side. 2.4g of protein and 1.8g of fibre per 30g portion: I would like to see more of both in this “dieter’s” cereal. Contains barley malt extract, and a slightly higher fortification than other cereals.
There’s a lovely nubbly crunch to these lightly sweet flakes with a lingering malty aftertaste. They don’t go soggy as quickly as cornflakes, so there’s no need to bolt them.
A below average 2.4g of sugars, 2.1g of protein and just 0.9g of fibre per 30g portion. Contains barley malt extract.
Airy with a malty, toasty flavour, these go soggy very quickly. To be fair, they are not too sweet, but they aren’t filling either.
At last, a cereal with the right balance, just 0.4g of sugars, plus a decent 4.4g of protein (without milk) and 3.6g of fibre per 40g portion. Just oats in there, and simply rolled, so minimally processed, and the oats are good slow release carbs.
Cooks up to a simple breakfast, with a good nubbly texture. I like mine with a tiny pinch of salt.
*Above protein score is for a portion made with half milk, half water. Red (4.4g) without milk.
5g of sugar, 4.3g of protein and 4.8g of fibre per 40g portion. Contains barley malt extract – although the shape alone is an indicator these are highly processed.
Dear little bathmat-shaped pieces, very sweet and ultra malty, crunchy going soft within three minutes. Nice but very confected, like having digestives for breakfast.
Less than 0.5g of sugar, 4.4g of protein and 2.8g of fibre per 30g portion. Very respectable, and the only ingredient is wheat. Even if puffing said wheat would be hard to do at home, it’s relatively simple so these aren’t UPF.
Sadly these are chewy and dull, like tiny wotsits or polystyrene depending on your point of view. A bit of toasted wheat flavour in there – curiously nostalgic, but not delicious. Mind you, you get a big bowlful (250ml) for your 30g portion.
0.3g of sugar, 5.5g of fibre and 5.5g of protein per two biscuit portion, which is pretty hard to fault. Pure wheat, although I can’t imagine how these are made.
They taste wiry and tough, like I’ve fallen face down on a doormat, and very bland, with just a faint whiff of cardboard. The hair shirt of cereals.