A Love Letter to Pinkberry

Photo Courtesy of SantanaRow.com

Dear Pinkberry,

It was during my first full summer in New York City a few years ago when I first heard your name. I had no idea who you were, and when I found out you were frozen yogurt–not ice cream frozen yogurt, but literally yogurt that is frozen–paired with healthy toppings like fruit and granola, I rolled my eyes.

I mean, come on, I’d say to my addicted friends. Dessert is dessert and it’s meant to be sweet and indulgent. And healthy yogurt that’s frozen? Bleh.

But as it sometimes can do, peer pressure got the best of me on a particularly scorching summer afternoon. And Pinkberry, that’s exactly when my love for you began. When I have the original version of you topped with pineapple, I’m in heaven (although I must confess–I’ve been seriously considering petitioning to get your limited edition brother, Coconut, and sister, Passion Fruit, back amongst the menu).

I know that I’m not the only lover you have, because the Pinkberry Phenomenon is not mine alone, but a summer-in-New York experience. Even though you are popular in California and have now even moved to Chicago, on the East Coast, you are definitely a New York thing. This spring, as soon as the first day above 70 degrees hit, everyone in the city was in a rush to get to you. Most people who know me would say I’m one of the most impatient people they know, so when I say that I don’t mind waiting in line for long periods just for you, Pinkberry, you should know you must really be somethin’.

You have many imitators, Pinkberry. Back where I’m from in Maryland, I’ve seen “frozen yogurt” shops like Red Mango and Tutti Frutti, but rest assured that there is nothing like strolling through the streets of Manhattan with the deliciousness that is you and only you in the summertime. And on top of it all, even when I start to feel like we’ve been spending too much time together, when I finish with you, I know I don’t have to feel guilty because you are so much better for me than your cousin Mr. Softie.

Oh, Pinkberry. I hope you’re ready, my friend, because you and I are in for some bonding time this summer.

Love, X’s, O’s, and pineapples,


2 thoughts on “A Love Letter to Pinkberry

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