Point: Ice Cream
Ice cream makes memories. Think back to your first taste of a Neapolitan sandwich out of your neighborhood truck, or to the most recent time you pigged out on a pint or two of Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food to get over an unexpected rejection. That’s why ice cream—particularly over frozen yogurt—remains the quintessential means to satisfy our cravings for frozen sweetness: there’s no better way to accompany high-points or down-days than with a scoop of churned whole milk and cream.
First of all, while I understand the whole health-food argument, ice cream isn’t necessarily any more gluttonous than its cleverly marketed sibling. Most self-serve froyo shops provide oversized cups to squeeze as much cash out of you as possible. With your own hand pushing down the metal handle and the in–your–face banner calling it “healthy,” it’s hard to know when to stop. When you’re scooping ice cream, however, its richness reminds you that a little will go a long way.
Ice cream is sumptuous without added toppings, save the occasional drizzle of warm chocolate fudge or dollop of whipped-cream. Yet the topping bar is a key froyo joint destination. Because the actual yogurt is so plain, it needs to be accessorized. With dispensers of crushed oreos and M&Ms, clusters of cookie dough, brownie bits and bottles of every imaginable sauce laid out in front of us, we rarely stop at the chopped pineapple. Our cups end up holding mountains of layered garnishes whose carb–counts exceed a few scoops of the real stuff.
Furthermore, there’s a straightforward explanation for why the satisfying feeling of scraping out those last few bits of brownie or cookie swirl on the surface of an ice cream tub will never die: mix–ins are what make the taste of ice cream so intoxicating. Contrastingly solid–colored froyo flavors, on the other hand, merely mimic the essence of their ice cream counterparts. Take Häagan–Dazs’ Midnight Cookies and Cream: nothing compares to a spoonful of its crunchy cookie bits, complemented by a chewy fudge swirl and set into a dense chocolate–cream base. I have yet to find a yogurt replica that measures up to its textural balance. The closest varieties of “cookies and cream” at froyo powerhouses like Red Mango or Pinkberry simply inject basic bases with grayish brown food coloring and artificial-tasting additives. The more decadent treat has been around for hundreds of years for a reason: stay on the ice cream bandwagon.
— Solomon Bass
Counterpoint: Froyo
This is not your grandmother’s old fashioned ice cream.
Once upon a time—in 2005—Pinkberry opened its doors in West Hollywood, CA. Within a few short years, the chain and numerous wannabes spanned the country. The popularity of the tart yogurt with scant toppings has subsided, replaced with a country-wide obsession with frozen yogurt, a perfect dessert that combines DIY with AYCE—all you can eat.
Froyo, as it’s fondly called, is beloved because it’s self serve: It puts you in the driver’s seat to decide on which flavor, which toppings and what combination thereof. Whether you’re feeling classic vanilla topped with granola and gummy bears or a melange of chocolate, peanut butter and mint with six different types of candy, your friendly neighborhood froyo establishment lets you do you.
The frozen treat takes the perks of ice cream and makes them even better. Sample different flavors in bite–size cups—no paltry spoons or taste limits. You don’t have to worry about an employee giving you a too–small scoop, either. Instead you can stuff your cup to the brim and then load up on toppings. There are no limits, only guidelines: froyo is pay per ounce. Looking for a light snack? You’ll only be set back a few dollars. Or if you’re in the mood to splurge, $6 will get you the equivalent of a fourth meal…or so I’ve heard.
With froyo, it’s all about variety. The many flavors taste eerily identical to their food counterparts, from Pumpkin Pie to Sea Salt Caramel and often change with the season. Traditional toppings range from heath bar for a sweet tooth, to kiwi for a fruit lover, to pretzels, Cap’n Crunch and granola for everyone in between.
Bonus points come in the form of a college student’s best friend: the punch card. Many frozen yogurt shops provide some variation of “buy 10, get 1 free,” so don’t worry about being overwhelmed. Try a little each time to find your personal holy grail. It’s refreshing on hot days and rebellious on cold days, but no two cups need ever be the same.
Tempted yet? I’ll meet you at the toppings bar.
— Nicole Malick
