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Lucky Charms Marshmallows Are Horrible, So Why Are They Getting Bigger?

They don’t even taste like Lucky Charms’ signature dried-up scraps of rainbow styrofoam

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A package of Lucky Charms marshmallows on top of a bed of colorful Lucky Charms marshmallows, on a red background.
Kraft Jet-Puffed Lucky Charms Magically Delicious Marshmallows.
Lucky Charms

Lucky Charms’ signature shamrock, star, moon, and heart marshmallows have been given the jumbo-sized treatment and are being sold by the bagful in a new collaboration with Kraft Jet-Puffed Marshmallows, the cereal brand announced this week. “Magically Delicious Marshmallows,” as they’re called, are rolling out this month and will be available nationwide for $1.50 per bag in September.

Here’s an idea: Instead of putting them in grocery stores, why not put them in the TRASH??? The worst part of Lucky Charms is irrefutably its marshmallows. Dehydrated without water, and decidedly unpuffy because of a lack of whipping aid, they’re like desiccated little scraps of styrofoam that have been artificially sweetened to hide the awful way they squeak between your teeth. Biting into one is the gustatory equivalent of nails on a chalkboard: abrasive, discordant, and enough to provoke a visceral, hair-raising reaction. I’m still left reeling at the fact that the limited-edition, all-marshmallow boxes Lucky Charms released in 2017 became collector’s items, with current eBay prices ranging from $60 to $400.

But even if you somehow hold the outright wrong opinion that Lucky Charms marshmallows are delicious, these new Magically Delicious Marshmallows will not be for you. Although the marshmallows share the same appearance as the original dehydrated cereal fiberglass, the similarities stop there. With the standard vanilla flavor and softness of the typical Kraft Jet-Puffed variety, they’re basically just regular processed marshmallows, “Lucky Charms marshmallows” in name and aesthetic only.

Offering neither the cursed taste and texture that some people like about Lucky Charms’ signature dried-out pastel husks, nor an incentive for anyone else to pick these over other marshmallow offerings, there’s no damn sense to these marshmallows. Who will eat them other than the dreadful snack influencers of Instagram and YouTube?! At least the button-sized stale rainbows have a target audience — consumers lacking any oral sensory nerve endings — and a well-defined purpose, even if that purpose is to sicken me to my very core.

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