Three cheers for good bacteria!

If I was trapped on a desert island in some weird scenario where I still needed to cook (and had a fridge), I'd be calling Peapod to deliver some yogurt. In which case I could probably hitch a ride back to civilization . . . So, yeah, this desert island lead is kind of falling apart on me. Perhaps I should change gears.

Yogurt has wooed me away from many of my former condiments. Allow me to let them down easy.

Mayo, I am sorry to report that I am in love with someone else. Plain yogurt can do everything you can do, but it doesn't taste like a petroleum product. Chicken salad with yogurt, walnuts, grapes, curry powder, and celery. Check. Tuna salad with yogurt, grated carrot, onion, and lots of dill. Check. Poached salmon with a yogurt lemon sauce. Check. Baked artichoke dip. CHECK.

Bottled salad dressing: You are dead to me. Your list of ingredients is about three inches long and includes stabilizers, thickeners, corn syrup, and cheap oil. Yogurt makes a wonderful base for a creamy dressing. Add olive oil, white wine vinegar, dried onion, and herbs and you have something almost like ranch dressing but not disgusting. For a sweet dressing: Yogurt, white wine or cider vinegar, honey or maple syrup or jam. Maybe a little ginger.

Sour cream, we had a good thing going, but yogurt is so much leaner than you are and, frankly, could totally kick your ass in a fight. Spicy foods and soups, plus starchy potatoes, are nudged toward the divine by yogurt's lively cultures.

Canola Oil: I would still like to keep you around on an as-needed basis. But yogurt makes sweet breads and muffins moist without your help.

Sorry guys. I'd like to be able to say, "It's not you--it's me." But it's you.