Like many of you, when I first read about Cereal Killer, the breakfast cereal cafe that opened yesterday in (where else?) east London, I laughed. Or, more precisely, I scoffed. It seemed beyond parody: an all-day diner selling more than 100 breakfast cereals, 12 types of milk and 20 toppings, run by bearded, tattooed twins, in a venue steeped in 1990s pop-cultural nostalgia.

Had it turned out that Chris Morris was behind it, if it transpired that the whole thing was a satire, not just of Shoreditch hipsters but infantile modern Britain, no one would have been surprised. But, reader, I urge you to look beyond that knee-jerk reaction. Because the more I thought about Cereal Killer, the more it seems an inspired idea.

Who doesn’t love cereal? And who doesn’t regard it as the quick, simple, go-to comfort food at any time of the day? It is notoriously difficult to create restaurant concepts with genuine mass appeal, much less guarantee a consistent product, but Cereal Killer ticks both those boxes. And it does so at a time when customisation and the influence of sweet, American junk food are both huge trends in food. Basically, who wouldn’t have fun combining Rice Chex or Poppin’ Pebbles (no, me neither), Jersey Gold Top or hazelnut milk with marshmallows and fruit to create their perfect bowl?

There is even a gastronomic precedent. For years, Heston Blumenthal has been obsessed with how huge manufacturers create such intense flavours in processed foods, while New York chef David “Momofuku” Chang’s self-explanatory cereal milk, drunk neat or used to make ice-cream, is a modern fine dining classic.

If Cereal Killers takes off, could it kickstart a wave of cafes that allow you to mix‘n’match popular, big-brand products? Here are three that could be coming to a high street near you:

Big Dunk’s: You know how you can’t allow yourself to have loads of packets of biscuits in the house, but you would like more biscuit choice in your life? Imagine if there was a cafe selling innumerable teas, from oolong to Earl Grey, and, more importantly, an endless variety of interchangeable individual biscuits for dunking? NB This chain would ideally be fronted by a famous Duncan – Goodhew, Bannatyne?

Max Flurries: Basically, a McDonald’s-injunction-skirting mix of the McFlurry and, for the nostalgia element, Woolworths’ pick‘n’mix counter. I’m imagining top-quality, handmade gelato and the ability to help yourself to crushed-up bits of all your favourite big-brand chocolates, from Aero to Rolo, in endless combinations. Perfect for the lefty who loves sugar but hates McDonald’s.

#battermesenseless: We all love the concept of a filled jumbo yorkshire pudding, but the chain pub reality is often disappointing. The solution? A hipster makeover for the humble yorkie – blaring music, jam jar cocktails, craft beers and yorkshires filled with everything from Italian meatballs to a 36-hour, slow-cooked brisket chilli. Could Aunt Bessie pull off a promo pop-up in Hackney Wick? Weirder things have happened.