I don't know what makes it "Greek" yogurt.

All yogurts are not equal. I first started eating yogurt in the summer between my junior and senior years of high school. My mother didn't like it (she had issues with food textures), so we never had it in the house when I was growing up. I tried it at a friend's house and liked it, and since it was a convenient thing to take for lunch, that whole summer I lived on not much more than Light & Lively yogurt, very strong instant iced tea, and the occasional piece of toast. (Not recommended: I weighed 103 pounds, at my current height, and photos from that summer show me as a long-haired but cheerful skeleton.)

Anyway, I like yogurt, but have since abandoned the Light & Lively (i.e., gelatin-based) style, which often came in colors unknown to nature. Other types of yogurt might as well be pudding, and I stay away from those, too.

But Greek yogurt is something else. The Gardiner Hannaford doesn't sell it, but the food shop at the Clark St. subway station does: Fage (pronounced "Fa-YEH," the container says helpfully), in several flavors, with honey and without.

I like the plain stuff; it's like eating straight sour cream, except that the package claims it has no fat and only 90 calories. How is this possible? How is it made, and what makes it "Greek"?

I could look it up, but I'm already running late this morning. My blogging schedule may have to change to evenings, but we'll see how this week goes.