It tastes like all the naughty things,1 but has the advantage of being digestible and wholesome.
—New York lady on Nuttose
In this fast age, the less exciting the food,2 the better.
—Ellen G. White
Cold cereal is the “Breakfast of Champions,” a morning staple enjoyed by 93 percent of Americans,3 and so prevalent on grocery lists that it not only gets its own aisle in the supermarket but plays a key role in the psychology of shelf allocation storewide. (One of the reasons supermarkets place their dairy cases in the back,4 far from a store’s entrance, is that they know most shoppers are going to buy milk, for cereal, and want to funnel them past as many impulse buys as possible along the way.)*5
Cereal transcends race, social class, age, gender—and even dietary guidelines; egg consumption has dropped by more than 40 percent in the United States6 since the demonization of cholesterol in the 1940s, yet decades of health warnings concerning milk and sugar (and millennia of heritable lactose intolerance) have failed to unseat cereal as the official champion of the breakfast table. For many people, it’s the one food they still eat sitting down, at a table, or with family: their first and only taste of sweetness before venturing out into a bitter world of industrial coffee and eating in cars.
Cereal often serves as an excellent source of not just vitamins and minerals, as the labels claim, but nostalgia, free prizes, back-of-the-box activities, and aerated confectionary foams (better known as dried marshmallows or, in industry jargon, “marbits”). So it satisfies our hunger in ways that go beyond the merely caloric.
In fact, though it might lack pie’s heartiness or indigestibility, cereal has several key traits that can trick us into feeling more satisfied by it than perhaps we should, given that it’s made up mostly of sugars and simple carbohydrates. Research suggests, for example, that people tend to consume less food7 when consuming it from a spoon (as opposed to, say, their hands or a straw) without feeling any less full, owing to the additional time it takes to operate a spoon, which essentially tricks our bodies into thinking we ate more because it took longer. The fact that cereal is composed of many small pieces adds to this effect, triggering what psychologists call a “unit bias,”8 wherein we assume that we ate more food because we ate more pieces.*9 (Similarly, if you lift your bowl while eating cereal to drink the cereal milk, the weight of the bowl could lead you to believe you’re ingesting more breakfast than you really are.) Finally, there’s the Pavlovian response10 that conditions us to feel satisfied due to decades of television commercials painting cereal as a delicious part of a complete breakfast that’s supposedly the most important meal of the day—so we feel satisfied, in part, because advertisers tell us to.
And here you thought you liked Frosted Flakes just because they’re gr-r-reat.
Yet despite cereal’s mass appeal and generally massive sugar content (in 2014, the average children’s cereal was 34 percent sugar by weight11 and adult cereal, 18 percent),*12,13,14 it was never meant to be sweet; in fact, it was never even meant to be enjoyable.
Rather, cold breakfast cereal was created to be deliberately bland: the brainchild of religious health reformers who thought America needed a breakfast free from not just sugar and excess, à la the all-day-pie diet in the previous chapter, but from sin and gluttony—a way to “break fast” without breaking religious sanctity and becoming a godless pagan hedonist. No sooner had Americans emerged from the “starving times” and begun to enjoy their freedom and comfort, in fact, than a health craze swept the country, bringing with it a long list of dietary cautions. Unlike today’s fad diets, however, which tend to target things like carbs or cellulite in the interest of living longer or looking good naked, this new wave of diets targeted “depraved desire and perverted appetite”15 in the interest of avoiding eternal fire and brimstone—and looking good in the eyes of God.
Rich foods, alcohol, sugar, chocolate, caffeine, and even condiments, alleged health reformers, led not just to indigestion but to far more serious ailments such as crime, chronic illness, adultery, and ultimately eternal damnation.
One of the early leaders of this movement was Sylvester Graham (1794–1851), the guy graham crackers are named after—not that he would have eaten them.*16 A traveling preacher and staunch vegetarian, Graham yearned for simpler times without the artificial and material needs brought about by industry and civilization, what he calls “the rude state of nature,”17 wherein the basic needs of hunger, thirst, and shelter were easily provided by nature and instinct rather than by factories and industrialization and a man could survive simply by plucking fruit from a tree, drinking water from a folded leaf, and wrapping “his body in the skins of beasts.”18
He was also, he believed, a messenger of God19 who believed that the secret to happiness was a routine of self-denial from such abominations as sexuality, masturbation, meat, and spices. Most commercial butchers and bakers, of course, disagreed with these notions, insisting that Graham was not only mortal but kind of an asshole—as he once provoked an armed riot in Boston20 after repeatedly accusing butchers of selling diseased meat21 and bakers of using spoiled flour22, then barricaded himself inside his speaking venue and shoveled lime on them from above.
Note that Graham wasn’t necessarily wrong in these accusations; in his 1820 book A Treatise on Adulterations of Food,23 and Culinary Poisons, Exhibiting the Fraudulent Sophistications of Bread, Beer, Wine, Spirituous Liquors, Tea, Coffee, Cream, Confectionery, Vinegar, Mustard, Pepper, Cheese, Olive Oil, Pickles, and Other Articles Employed in Domestic Economy; and Methods Of Detecting Them, chemist Fredrick Accum describes that it was common practice for bakers to make bread using damaged or spoiled flour masked with things like chalk or white clay powder. This, in addition to other nefarious practices of the period, such as flavoring wine with oak sawdust24 or adding molten lead to prevent it from turning;25 boiling various types of leaves with toxic pigments or sheep’s dung to pass them off as tea leaves26 (or recycling used tea leaves taken from coffeehouses27 and dyeing them black again); selling “sham-coffee”28 made from burned peas and swept coffee grounds recovered from floors; and doctoring beer with powdered oyster shells and wood shavings29 to mask its sourness, fish skin or hartshorn shavings30 (shaved deer antler, particularly the inner “heart”) to resolve cloudiness, and opium or nux vomica31 (also known as poison nut or strychnine)32 to make it more inebriating.
Still, Graham’s philosophy was eerily similar to that of Unabomber Ted Kaczynski, whose manifesto begins:
The Industrial Revolution33 and its consequences have been a disaster for the human race. They have greatly increased the life-expectancy of those of us who live in “advanced” countries, but they have destabilized society, have made life unfulfilling, have subjected human beings to indignities, have led to widespread psychological suffering (in the Third World to physical suffering as well) and have inflicted severe damage on the natural world.
A key difference, however, was that Graham believed that life expectancy had rapidly decreased34 in advanced countries as a result of industrialization rather than increased—as evidenced by the fact that people in the Bible used to live hundreds of years before they became gluttons and stopped using the proper ingredients for bread.
Nevertheless, Graham developed a strong following as an expert on health and the science of human life, speaking across the country on such topics as the evils of feather beds35 and reasons to consign them to bonfires as well as the horrors of masturbation.36 Whether you side with Graham and his followers, called Grahamites,37 or the heathen butchers and bakers, it’s undeniable that he was—and this is sincere—a phenomenally talented and historically underrated speaker and author. Consider, for example, his poetic and imaginative sketch of a chronic masturbation victim:
Sometimes this general mental38 decay continues with the continued abuses, till the wretched transgressor sinks into a miserable fatuity, and finally becomes a confirmed and degraded idiot, whose deeply sunken and vacant glossy eye, and livid, shriveled countenance, and ulcerous, toothless gums, and foetid breath, and feeble, broken voice, and emaciated and dwarfish and crooked body, and almost hairless head—covered, perhaps, with suppurating blisters and running sores—denote a premature old age—a blighted body—and a ruined soul!—and he drags out the remnant of his loathsome existence, in exclusive devotion to his horridly abominable sensuality. . . . More frequently, however, the mental powers maintain their existence, to inflict, if possible, a deeper and darker vengeance on the miserable offender. Beginning with occasional dejection of spirits, he goes on in his transgression, till an habitual depression, and then a deeper gloom, and then a cheerless melancholy, gathers in permanent darkness over his soul.
Or his warnings on the iron grip of pornography:
If he attempts to read or study39, ever and anon his book will fade away, and a lascivious image will occupy his mental vision, and stir up the unclean fires of morbid lust. If he endeavors to give his thoughts to the most solemn and sacred subjects, still he is haunted with images of lewdness; and even when he attempts to pray to the omniscient and holy God, these filthy harpies of his imagination will often flit between his soul and Heaven, and shake pollution on him from their horrid wings! Almost every object that he sees, will, by a diseased association, suggest the debasing vice; and his eye can scarcely fall, by accident, on the sexual parts of any female animal, without awaking a train of obscene thoughts, and exciting a foul concupiscence.
Clearly, he could’ve made it as a horror writer.
Yet Graham’s biggest impact was made with his guidance to eat coarsely ground whole wheat flour, which became known as Graham flour,40 in place of refined white flour. This, despite the fact that his reasoning was vastly misguided, as he believed white flour was too nutritious41 and that stripping away the outer bran made it too nutrient dense to absorb. (Today we know the opposite is true and that the bran and germ contain most of wheat’s nutrients,42 phytochemicals, and essential minerals and that refined flour is, nutritionally speaking, relatively vacuous.)
And it was Graham flour—and Graham’s groundwork in vilifying pleasurable foods—that helped inspire the first cold breakfast cereal, which was essentially just crumbled pieces of baked Graham flour and water. Called granula, it was developed in the 1860s by a follower of Graham named James C. Jackson43, and while Jackson’s granula never really took off, mostly because it was rock hard and had to be soaked overnight in milk to make it even remotely edible, Jackson’s idea for a cereal that was prepackaged and ready to eat, as opposed to time-intensive gruels and porridges (or sacrilegious pies), was novel enough to capture the interest of a man named John Harvey Kellogg.
Born in 1852, a year after Graham’s death,44 Kellogg was raised by parents who believed Judgment Day and the end of the world were imminent and therefore saw little need for education45 in matters other than salvation; as a result, Kellogg spent most of his childhood reading Graham’s works,46 preparing for Armageddon, and, in his own words, learning that “anything that was fun47 was regarded as wicked.” He was also plagued by severe gastrointestinal issues48 during childhood and by the age of fifteen had dealt with bloody colitis, a scarred colon, chronic constipation, hemorrhoids, and an anal fissure—which, according to author and medical historian Howard Markel, resulted in a prolonged “cycle of bleeding, barbed wire–like pain,49 and nonstop burning, itching, and throbbing” in his nether regions.
Kellogg would eventually, thanks to the world not ending, go on to attend medical school and become a doctor; but it was his childhood obsession with salvation, ritual self-sacrifice, and colon health that would shape his life’s work—and ultimately lead him to revolutionize the world of breakfast cereal.
In 1876, at the age of twenty-four, he became the medical director50 of a religious health spa in his hometown of Battle Creek, Michigan, and used his medical credentials to help scale the establishment from a humble two-story farmhouse51 with a dozen or so patients into the luxurious Battle Creek Sanitarium: a sprawling medical facility with steam-operated elevators52; an eight-hundred-seat dining room with vaulted ceilings and its own orchestra; a one-thousand-seat lecture hall and concert venue; and ten thousand annual patients enjoying such amenities as vibrotherapy,53 medical gymnastics, mechanical camels (which patients rode like exercise bikes), a tropical garden with towering palms—in northern Michigan, mind you, more than fifty types of medicinal baths54 (at least one of which was radioactive55), and an outdoor gymnasium where patients could “walk and trot around56 the running path, take swimming lessons, and engage in all kinds of exercises without other covering than simple trunks, so that the skin becomes hardened, toughened, and in many cases as brown as that of a North American Indian.”
That last bit is taken verbatim from a sanitarium brochure.
It was sort of like—well, it was unlike anything else that’s ever existed, really; if you’ve ever had that dream where you’re chopping wood57 in a loincloth while recovering from a circumcision without any pain medication, all while surrounded by banana trees, and then all of a sudden you’re ice-skating, it was exactly like that.
The san’s official mission was “to combine with the special professional,58 technical, and institutional advantages of the modern hospital, the luxuries and comforts of the modern hotel, together with the genial atmosphere, security and freedom of the home.” But it was more “acid trip” meets “high school detention” meets “indie horror film”—except you also had to eat twelve pounds of grapes.
Guests could have their bowel movements physically, chemically, and microscopically examined59 while relaxing in a garden of imported palms; take an aerobics class led by Dr. Kellogg60 himself; await their radiographic colon results while taking in a yogurt enema fresh from the creamery; or receive Kellogg’s thoughts on such topics as hermaphrodites,61 nap taking and the dangers of imagination, round dances—especially the waltz—and their role in provoking unchaste desires, the exciting influence of pepper, mustard, ginger, spices, truffles, wine, and alcohol upon the genital organs, the reasons chocolate should be discarded, “wretches [who] ought to be punished in a purgatory by themselves, made seven times hotter than for ordinary criminals,” reasons it might be better to cut the throats of children in cold blood than allow them to touch themselves, how to check for semen stains and vaginal discharges on children’s pajamas, and people who shouldn’t marry, Kellogg’s complete list of whom spanned seventeen pages and included criminals, people suffering from syphilis or cancer, “cripples and defectives,” “persons who are greatly disproportionate in size,” paupers, “widely different races,” tobacco users, jockeys, fops, loafers, and scheming dreamers, women who are giddy, gay, dressy, thoughtless, or fickle, and men who use profanity or whose “affections have been consumed in the fires of unhallowed lust.” (Interestingly, however, he disputed the opinion that “the marriage of cousins results in the production of idiots, and other defectives,” though he advised against it for other reasons.)
Today’s feminists, in particular, would have had a field day with Kellogg, both because he wrote insulting books from the male perspective, e.g., Ladies’ Guide in Health and Disease: Girlhood, Maidenhood, Wifehood, Motherhood, wherein he mansplains such topics as “precocious puberty,” “how to be beautiful,”62 “secretion of milk in virgins,” “why women as a class are dependent,” “bad books,” “the slavery of fashion,” “sleeping of children with older people,” “useful suggestions to young wives,” “female weaknesses,” and how to avoid becoming a prostitute—and because he was a strong advocate of female genital mutilation for nymphomaniacs,63 either by removing the clitoris altogether or by blistering it with carbolic acid, a chemical used in industrial paint strippers.64
Though, to be fair, he also advocated punitive circumcision for immoral males in such cases where bandaging the genitals, tying the hands at night, or “covering the organs with a cage”65 failed to curb their enthusiasm for self-touching—further emphasizing that the procedure should be done without anesthesia or pain killers to ensure maximum punishment and remorse.
Draw your own conclusions, but some might say he was a real-world supervillain—and a creepy one at that.*66 He wrote at length about the bowel movements of schoolgirls*67 and, for someone who hated intercourse, kept a separate bedroom from his wife68, spent his honeymoon writing about the dangers of genitalia, and spent an awful lot of time administering thirty-minute massages of the womb and pelvic areas (both internal and external) to female patients twice a day, which he insisted on performing himself.*69
Yet all of these remedies took a back seat to his obsession with food-based remedies, many of which were no less horrifying. Initially, the sanitarium’s offerings consisted largely of zwieback,70 a sort of tasteless twice-baked German toast (made, ideally, using stale bread),71 and Kellogg’s copycat version of granula, which he eventually renamed “Granola” in response to Jackson’s lawyers;72 however, complaints of broken teeth73 soon inspired him to pursue softer alternatives. Among his lesser-known creations were Nuttose,74 a nut-based meat substitute meant to mimic the appearance and flavor of cold roast mutton (which for some reason never became a thing), and Nuttolene, a nut-based cream substitute75 that came in hermetically sealed cans, kept indefinitely, and could also replace butter or shortening—though it was his creation of a flaked corn cereal called Granose76 (the predecessor of Toasted Corn Flakes) that would make Kellogg a household name in the 1890s.
The first ready-to-eat breakfast cereal that didn’t threaten to break people’s teeth, Kellogg’s corn flakes became so popular that they inspired what was essentially a cereal gold rush. Kellogg poured his first bowl in 1895,77 and by 1902 there were more than fifty cereal manufacturers in and around Battle Creek (a name that lent brands credibility by leading consumers to falsely believe they were associated with Kellogg’s Battle Creek Sanitarium) followed by dozens more across the country:78 Boston Brown Flakes, Cerealine, Dr. Price’s Corn Flakes, Famous Corn Flakes, Giant Flaked Corn, Jersey Bran Flakes, Mapl-Flake by Hygienic Food Company, Maple Flakes by Hosford Cereal and Grain Company, Oriole Breakfast Flakes, Purity Corn Flakes, Sanitarium, Squirrel Brand, University Brand Daintily-Crisped Flaked Corn, U.S. Honey Flakes, Watson Flaked Corn.
Many of these followed Kellogg’s formula for outrageous health claims; for example, Grape-Nuts (created by a former patient of Kellogg’s named C. W. Post, who allegedly stole the recipe79 from Kellogg’s sanitarium safe) was billed as a “scientific health food”80 that cured malaria, heart disease, and appendicitis.*81 Others, like the makers of Korn-Kinks, sunk even lower by promoting their cereal with blackface and racial stereotypes. “It am suttenly wunnerful82 how w’ite folks kin mek jes’ co’n tas’ so good,” read one 1907 advertisement.*83
Yet Kellogg’s biggest competition ultimately came from his own brother, Will “W.K.” Kellogg, who, despite growing up in the same household, was less extreme than his older brother and disagreed with him on a number of key points. For example, he ate oysters,84 which his brother called the chemical equivalent of drinking urine85 and staged an intervention over; presumably slept with his own wife; and believed in making the lives of children happier rather than more painful.
These differences, combined with the fact that Will had played a crucial role in developing corn flakes behind the scenes and for years had helped his older brother run the sanitarium in exchange for little pay, little vacation time, and duties that included86 shining his brother’s shoes, cleaning up after his horse, and taking dictation while he used the bathroom several times a day (during which he would often retrieve samples to prove his bowel movements smelled “as sweet as those of a nursing baby”),87 eventually inspired Will to begin manufacturing his own brand of breakfast cereal in 1906,88 calling it “Kellogg’s Corn Flakes.”
No surprise, Will’s strategy for making cereal for everyone rather than just sick people—and sweetening his flakes with not just sugar but the industry’s first free prizes, beginning with the Funny Jungleland Moving Pictures Book89 in 1909—turned out to be the better business plan; in fact, it’s the reason Northwestern University has the Kellogg School of Management, endowed in 1979 by the John L. and Helen Kellogg Foundation,90 established by Will’s grandson W.K. Kellogg II.
In 1920, following a decade of vicious court battles, Will won the legal right to the use of the family name91 (now known for such creations as Froot Loops, Frosted Flakes,92 Limited Edition Chocolate Frosted Flakes with Spoooky Marshmallows, Frosted Mini-Wheats, Corn Pops, Chocolate Peanut Butter Corn Pops, Rice Krispies, Cocoa Krispies, and Rice Krispies Treats), and the sanitarium eventually fell into bankruptcy.
And the rest of the industry followed suit (either by declaring bankruptcy, like the sanitarium, or adding sugar and marshmallows, like Will). In fact, more than a century after the creation of the original corn flakes, nearly 90 percent of American breakfast cereal is made by four brands,93 all founded during the original Kellogg era. These include Kellogg’s; General Mills, which started out as a Minnesota flour mill in 186694 but went on to make such magically delicious cereals as Trix, Cocoa Puffs, Lucky Charms,95 and Cinnamon Toast Crunch; Quaker Oats, which began as an Ohio oat mill in 188196 but is now owned by PepsiCo97 and has gone on to make Cap’n Crunch,98 Cap’n Crunch’s Oops! All Berries, Cap’n Crunch’s Cotton Candy Crunch, Cap’n Crunch’s Berrytastic Pancake Mix, and Cap’n Crunch’s Ocean Blue Artificially Maple Flavored Syrup; and Post, founded in 189599 by the guy who allegedly stole the recipe for Grape-Nuts from the sanitarium safe and now responsible for Fruity Pebbles, Honeycomb,100 and Oreo O’s.
So the industry as a whole pivoted completely, from Graham flour and granula to Cookie Crisp and Count Chocula.
And this wasn’t the first time a food or ingredient has undergone such a dramatic shift; a lot of the foods in our pantries and refrigerators were, once upon a time, thought to be evil or dangerous. For example, potatoes, as we’ll read in chapter 10, used to be associated with witchcraft and Devil worship; before they were America’s most popular vegetable (owing largely to their use as French fries), people called them “the Devil’s apples,” blamed them for causing syphilis, and literally burned them at the stake. Tomatoes, similarly, were said to be poisonous and used to summon werewolves.
Almost anything we can put into our mouths or onto our skin has, at one time, been vilified—or praised—for stirring up “the unclean fires of morbid lust.”
Explains Jeremy MacClancy:
A short list of aphrodisiacs might include101 anchovies, ant juice, artichokes, barbel,* bamboo shoots, basil, wild cabbage, calves’ brains, camel bone, caper berries, stuffed capon, caraway, caviar, milk of chameleon, crabapple jelly, crocodile tail, preserved dates, deer sperm, dill, doves’ brains, eel soup, egg-yolk in a small glass of cognac, fennel, flea-wort sap, dried frog, gall of a jackal, game birds, garlic, ginger omelettes, goat’s testicle boiled in milk and sugar, goose tongues, grapes, halibut, hare soup, haricot beans, herring, horse penis, horseradish, mackerel, lamprey, leeks, powdered lizard with sweet wine, marjoram, milk pudding, mugwort, musk, ninjin,* nutmeg, oysters, paprika, pâté of bone-marrow, Parmesan cheese, pepper, plaice,* quince jelly, ray, radishes, rhinoceros horn, rocket, rosemary, saffron, sage, salmon, candied sea holly, shallots, sheep’s kidneys, spinach, swan’s genitals, tarragon, terrapin soup, thyme, turmeric, viper broth, woodcock, and pineapple fritters.
Indeed, long before Graham questioned the wholesomeness of common bread, Athenian women were baking bread in the shape of penises and using olive oil as a lubricant to make economical sex toys called olisbokollix (“loaf-of-bread dildo”),102 and women in seventeenth-century England were baking loaves in the shape of their own sex organs103 (literally pressing the dough against their skin as a mold) out of a magical belief that the men who ate them would fall in love with them.
Nor were Graham and Kellogg the first to suggest the moral superiority of a bland diet and implicate pleasure and flavor as barriers to happiness and spiritual fulfillment.
Writes Plato, circa 360 BC:
Those, therefore, who have no experience of wisdom and goodness,104 and do nothing but have a good time . . . never rise higher to see or reach the true top, nor achieve any real fulfilment or sure and unadulterated pleasure. They bend over their tables, like sheep with heads bent over their pasture and eyes on the ground, they stuff themselves and copulate, and in their greed for more they kick and butt each other with hooves and horns of steel, and kill each other because they are not satisfied, as they cannot be while they fill with unrealities a part of themselves which is itself unreal and insatiable.
Similar ideals lay behind the Christian prohibition of meat during Lent; the Jewish tradition of eating bitter herbs on Passover; the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi that teaches “an acceptance and appreciation of the impermanent,105 imperfect, and incomplete nature of everything,” often observed by the aesthetic of chipped or asymmetric tea bowls; and Brillat-Savarin’s declaration that “Men who stuff themselves and grow tipsy106 know neither how to eat nor how to drink.”
Meanwhile, the Greek philosopher Epicurus (341–270 BC), whose name has become falsely synonymous with sexual and culinary hedonism, was perhaps history’s biggest fan of bland breakfasts, writing “To whom a little is not enough, nothing is107 enough. Give me a barley-cake and water, and I am ready to vie even with Zeus in happiness,” “I am thrilled with pleasure in the body,108 when I live on bread and water, and I spit upon luxurious pleasures not for their own sake, but because of the inconveniences that follow them,” and “We ought to be on our guard against any dishes109 which, though we are eagerly desirous of them beforehand, yet leave no sense of gratitude behind after we have enjoyed them.”
His basic idea being that true pleasure was the absence of pain—and that bland foods tended to remove the pains of hunger, leading to sustainable pleasure, while luxurious foods tended to make the rest of the world seem bland by comparison, leading to short-lived pleasure and prolonged pain.
So Epicurus would have liked Kellogg’s original corn flakes, not because they were hard or righteous, nor because sugar was evil, but rather because starting the day with frosting, free prizes, and marshmallows tends to make the rest of the day seem bitter.