YoBaby: You’re the One

Let’s face it, I’m no spring chicken. That wrinkle running down my forehead isn’t disappearing and those stray white hairs that gave my hair “highlights” are no longer cute.

Even my taste buds have matured. Whereas I used to have a palate of a sophisticated 5-year old…the day I hit 31, my taste buds made leaps and bounds to that of a 10-year old.

If it’s too sour, bitter, tart…not going to eat it. I know – for someone who loves food, it might sound strange to you that I don’t care much for “sophisticated” flavors such as vinegar, olives, beer, pickles, wine…

…vegetables like arugula and artichokes and bitter melon (it has the word bitter IN its name – not a good marketing strategy). It drove my parents mad for years. I didn’t start eating them until I turned 31.

To this day, I only eat salads on rare occasions because: 1) they often sneak in some bitter leafy thing, and 2) they often lather it with vinegar, which make me look like this:

Case in point: my search for the perfect yogurt for me.

I love milk. I love ice cream. I love cheese. Dairy is my companion. I’m not talking light, sugar free, skim stuff. I drink the whole fat version. These days, my obsession is the glass bottles from Maple View Farm – red-caps signaling wholesome, creamy deliciousness.

I also knew yogurt was good for you, and so wanted to develop a healthy relationship with it. In elementary school, my cool friends would whip out little containers of Yoplait or Danon, looking like little models swirling their yogurt and flipping their hair. I tried to develop a romance then with yogurt, but perhaps I was too immature, perhaps yogurt wasn’t ready. Those yogurts were simply too sour for me. I chocked it up to the follies of youth.

(this was an ad campaign in Ireland)

As I got older, I really, really wanted to meet a yogurt that was right for me. I figured yogurt was a healthier way to start the day (Starbuck’s breakfast sandwiches DO rock, but they are the dangerous type that you go out with once or twice a month, but not good for a long-term thing). I was becoming desperate – for over two decades, I tried a new brand of yogurt several times a year in search of the One.

I thought I found it when I tried Activia. The commercials said it would regulate my digestive system, and I found it quite pleasing. However, a few things bothered me. Activia was a little too sweet for me and I wished it was organic since I had switched to organic milk and cheese. It was a nice relationship, but not my perfect match.

Was I too picky?

When I was living in Manhattan (perfect place for the single gal looking for…yogurt), I became mesmerized by the fancy organic brands that lined the shelves. They beckoned me, and I gladly parted with my money to get a taste. All talk and no substance. Sour. Sour. Sour.

I became cozy with Brown Cow, which was quite smooth and gentle. However, as time wore on, I realized I was adding more and more granola to cut out the hint of sourness. Eventually, I just ended up with a cup of dry granola and a dollop of yogurt. That was no real relationship.

I gave up for a while, decided to swear off yogurt. Mind you, I am not knocking any of these brands. I think they are lovely and many of you probably love them because they ARE good. The issue is not them. It’s me. It’s my immature taste buds.

But then, as they say – when you are not looking…. One day, I was in the store, talking to ZomppaPatty about my dysfunctional relationship with yogurt. I told her about this post I saw from my new foodblog friend, Healthy Tasty Chow, about YoBaby. Healthy Tasty Chow seemed to like it, ZomppaPatty seemed to like it. Okay, I recognize that they liked the yogurt…for their BABIES, but I figured if this yogurt was good to babies and cute small things and cute small babies liked IT, it must be worth a try.

So I did.

Smooth, made with whole milk, sweet but not too sweet, organic, clear fresh flavors that don’t intimidate but still announces its presence, good on its own, the perfect size.

YoBaby is the One for me.

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