It’s no secret that I don’t like yogurt. I’ve never had an affinity for swallowing anything with the consistency of snot. . . . even if there are chunks of fruit in it; especially if there are chunks of fruit in it. It’s just not my thing.
Unfortunately for me, yogurt is like the number one diet food that everyone claims fills them up in the morning and “really is so good”. For years, all I’ve heard from starving women everywhere is that yogurt is their go-to when trying to loose the lbs: high in protein, a little bit sweet and just right for breakfast. (For the record, you yogurt aficionados aren’t fooling anyone. The only person you are talking into liking yogurt more than eggs and bacon is yourself. The only way yogurt out-tastes real breakfast food is if you’ve never actually had real breakfast food.)
So you can imagine my (the girl whose middle name is technically ‘diet’) dismay every time I hear someone recommend yogurt or see it appear on my ‘recommended foods’ sheet for an upcoming battle of the bulge: it’s not pretty. In fact, my reaction is usually similar to the reaction of children everywhere that find out that Santa isn’t real – there are a lot of tears and confusion and crushed spirits.
Several years ago, I heard that there may be an answer for us yogurt haters out there and it was the Greeks that were helping us out. That’s right, Greek yogurt burst onto the scene in an apparent revolution of the yogurt industry. Sidenote: it’s funny to me that there even had to be a revolution because you all LOVED yogurt as it was, right? Why reinvent the wheel? Why? Because that wheel tastes like a bad cold, that’s why.
Anyway, Greek yogurt became the go-to snack of healthy-wannabes everywhere; it was healthier than regular yogurt (gasp!) and higher in protein (how?!) and better tasting (what the. . . impossible!). Everyone jumped on the bandwagon and started peddling Greek yogurt like Peeps at Easter.
My pure distaste for yogurt kept me out of the Greek game for several years – I didn’t even want to date the mildly better-looking cousin of that guy: from a totally different country but the bottom line was that they were still family and DNA can’t be changed that much.
Last week, well, I got brave. In the middle of my latest round of lies to myself about how I really do enjoy healthy food, I caved. I bought Greek yogurt. I’d like to blame my hunger for my momentary lapse in zeal and judgment while cruising the dairy section of Costco but I think I really just caved into peer pressure; “It has a totally different texture,” they said. “It really tastes much better,” they said. They lied.
I’m here to tell you that Greek yogurt is no better than its slime-ridden counterpart. In fact, the only difference that I noticed was a slight inclination to say “Opa” after each bite. The texture was bad, the taste was not improved. I had been duped – and in bulk, Costco-size, no less.
Why the tirade about Greek yogurt? Well, first I’d like to drive home the point that I hate yogurt. Second, I’d like to make a plea for honesty:
I don’t deal well with sugar-coating things, unless of course those things are donuts or other baked goods. I’d rather hear the truth of the matter when it comes to, well, anything. Yogurt is a good place to start because I don’t feel like it’s asking too much:
When someone asks how you like yogurt, it would just be better for all of us if the answer went something like this: “It is not very good. BUT I’ve found that it’s what I have to eat for breakfast to loose weight.” We know you aren’t eating yogurt because you want to and that there is some hidden agenda behind your willingness to swallow snot in the wee hours of the morning.
I’ll make you a deal – if you’ll just tell the truth, we can be friends. I don’t trust anyone that says they love yogurt because it means one of two things: they are either a liar or they haven’t eaten enough ice cream in their lives; either way, I question your judgment and I will never buy anything you are selling.
Example number two would be exercise. If someone says, “Hey, you’re a runner? Do you love it?” The appropriate response would be “No, it hurts like heck but I’m trying to drop a dress size,” rather than “I just feel so free and clear-minded when I run seven miles.” Lies. There are maybe 100 people on Earth that actually love running and they all have some form of Olympic hardware to back them up. Anyone else making that claim is just not telling the truth. You can love how you feel after you run but not during.
My point is this: when things are difficult or gross or weird, can’t we just fess up to the fact that they are? It doesn’t mean that you can’t eat yogurt (or wet bread) or run or do weird things if you have a reason for doing them; I’d just respect you a lot more for admitting it. In fact, I think respect points would likely double – I admire people that run even though it’s hard, more so even than those that do it with ease.
On that note, I’ve got an entire 96 pack of Greek yogurts to get through because I don’t believe in food going to waste, even terrible tasting food. So if you need me, I’ll be sitting in an aura of pride and simultaneous disgust for the next three weeks.
