I never knew his name was Rastus. As a white boy growing up, I loved Cream of Wheat, and the smiling chef on the box was one of the friendlier and more approachable breakfast icons in my mind. Quaker Oats guy looked sort of gay; chubby guy with long hair and rosy cheeks smirking in a hat. Mrs. Butterworth's apparition as a syrup bottle gliding across the table was creepy. As breakfast brands went, Cream of Wheat chef was cool.Now you've spoiled it for me.
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