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| - Some people think if you have already experienced a trend, you're too old for it when it comes around again. Pffft! Bell bottoms, pink hair, Doc Martens, flannel shirts: I did it once, and if I like it, I'll do it again.
That said, I am old enough to have lived through the Wheat Germ No Saturated Fat Frozen Yogurt craze of the early 1990s. Even I was grateful as yogurt's slow demise was hastened by the $5 Cup of Coffee Phenomenon. I have thoroughly enjoyed the Cupcake Craze of recent years, and even dabbled in Chai Tea during its attempted revolt. I'm not discriminating. Every trend gets a turn.
So when I saw that Pinkberry was making all of Southern California moist in anticipation, I knew frozen yogurt was making a triumphant return to mainstream America. Accordingly, not unlike chlamydia at ASU, knockoffs began to appear on every corner, christened with stupid names following the current trend of tweaking words to make them "cute", a la "recessionista" and "staycation".
Lest we simply repeat TCBY, it's got a twist: the self-serve concept. Ingenious. Keeps your staffing costs down, encourages total consumer narcissism, and gives the opportunity to make serious bank. Brilliant!
For the most part, I love it. I adore the tart flavors, with fresh juicy strawberries and almond slivers. Healthy, quick, fresh, the perfect lunch. Because I am not a) a pig or b) a dumbass, I exercise portion control and get the perfect amount for $3.50. After dinner, I can get a dessert I feel good about, while my SO can go to Haagen-Daaz and suck down two giant scoops of ice cream while he complains that his boobs are getting bigger.
However... any time you introduce the self-serve concept into food, you're going to get people who act like they haven't eaten in five years and/or have never actually seen a variety of toppings before. Mass confusion combined with gluttony is never a good thing. And, hey, moms out there? When the line is out the door, it's not a good time to let Junior act like he's a big boy by putting on his own toppings. Plus, kids are filthy little creatures; my only consolation is that it is highly unlikely that pediatric hands have ever touched the fresh fruit serving spoons.
So yes. I love it. It's delicious. I just try to avoid going at peak hours lest I lose it and shove the face of the slowpoke in front of me directly into a bowl of M&Ms.
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