Can cottage cheese stand on its own merits? Will it always be the yawn-inducing third cousin of more dynamic cheeses, like Gouda, Pecorino and Cheez Whiz? And which brand is best?

I’ve never met a potato chip I didn’t like. For me, chips count as one of the four food groups, alongside chocolate, Carnation Sweetened Condensed Milk, and macaroni salad. But once you strip away the salt & vinegar, the ridges, and the Lipton Onion Soup Mix dip, can a plain potato chip stand on its own merits? And which brand is best?

Back in 2021, I did a panettone taste test with my Italian mother-in-law. It continues to be one of my most popular posts. Clearly, the world needs this kind of in-depth journalism. I convinced her to join me in another taste test to determine the best and worst pandoro.

In my family, you can always count on someone bringing a potato salad. (Or, as my mom called it, “pah-day-dah” salad.) Creamy and chunky, potato salad is the classic accompaniment to split hot dogs, charred hamburgers, and lukewarm beer. But if you’re short on time – and potatoes – can you find a good store-bought brand?

When it comes to Canadian icons, butter tarts are right up there with Casey and Finnegan. But for something so simple, butter tarts can go so wrong. Too sweet, too much crust, too gummy, the list goes on. And while your best bet is to purchase from a business that specializes in butter tarts, is it possible to find a decent butter tart at your grocery store?

Some people like to dance salsa. Me, I like to eat salsa. I put it on Crispy Minis, in my scrambled eggs, and, of course, on tortilla chips. But I’ve never given much thought to different brands of salsa.

When it comes to soups, none are as reviled as cream of mushroom. It’s not comforting like chicken noodle, not sophisticated like squash, and not hearty like vegetable. Let’s face it – cream of mushroom soup is the colour of despair, and those little bits of grey mushrooms are reminiscent of rotten teeth.

As a kid, I don’t know what terrified me more at Halloween time: Getting too close to an open flame in my polyester costume, crossing the street at night while wearing a plastic mask with two tiny slits for eyeholes, or peering into strangers’ houses and seeing their unfortunate home decor choices.

It’s not autumn until you’re unwedging your front teeth from a candy apple, dodging drunk wasps, and wearing your new parka when it’s 28 degrees outside. It’s also not autumn until you’re enjoying a glass of apple cider and poking your eye with a cinnamon stick every time you take a sip.

Summer is many things for me: Hawaiian Tropic Dark Tanning Oil, thongs, roller skates, and boardwalks. (In that order.). But summer is also about food. And nothing says summer to me like a good helping of macaroni salad on a soggy paper plate.

Being married to an Italian means I’ve been exposed to different Italian holiday traditions over the years. Like eating fish on Christmas Eve, wearing red underwear on New Year’s Day for good luck and, unfortunately, Limoncello.

For most people, elementary school was a time of learning, exploration, and growth. For me, it was about the joy of finding a cellophane-wrapped Twinkie in my lunch box. Or a Hostess Cupcake. Or a Wagon Wheel. If grades were given out for glucose-fructose and guar gum consumption, I would’ve been the smartest kid in class.

For better or worse, eggnog is a divisive holiday beverage. (Even more divisive than Coffee Mate’s Frosted Gingerbread.) Hate it or love it, there’s no middle ground. But what turns people off eggnog? The nutmeg? The phlegmy texture? The raw egg origins? Or maybe it’s that, on the French side of the carton, it reads “lait de poule” which translates in English to “chicken milk.”

Sugar cereals have always had a bad rap. But I think it’s undeserved. Often, a heaping bowl of sugar, corn syrup and high monounsaturated canola oil is the best way to start your day.

I’ve been partnered with an Italian for over 23 years. And in those 23 years, I’ve learned there are some things that Italians hold sacred: a clean house, designer sunglasses and disco singing sensation, Raffaella Carrà.

Another sacred thing? Tomato sauce.

You can count on grannies for a number of things. Showing you how to do the mashed potato dance, for one. Or keeping Glade Plug-In Air Fresheners in business. Or using “dilly-dally,” “horse-feathers” and “nincompoop” in a single sentence. Another thing you can count on is a granny’s candy stash.

Who isn’t trying to cut corners these days? But should the line be drawn with chocolate? I picked up six brand name chocolate bars and paired them against their dollar store equivalents. I conducted a blind taste test and enlisted the services of a second taste tester, so you’ll get more than just my opinion. Even though mine is the most important. Obviously. So how did the dollar store bars stack up?