I gotta say, I am sold on the concept of the Froyo chain in my home town. Froyo is awesome. Think TCBY but better. I love Froyo. For those of you who have Yoed the Fro, you know what I am talking about. For those of you who do not, let me explain how it works. You walk into a modern masterpiece of whites and art deco furniture and fixtures. Along one wall is a bank of frozen yogurt machines featuring gourmet flavors such as red velvet cake, pistachio, cake batter, German chocolate, raspberry pomegranate, cheese cake, and others. You fill your own bowl to the quantity that you want. What happens next is complete magic-- you top it however you want! There is granola, fresh fruit, brownies, cookie dough, mochi, cereal, hot fudge and carmel, marshmallow, gummy bears, and a bunch of others.
Do you pay by the size of your bowl? NO!
Do you pay for each topping? NO!
Do you pay for each flavor? NO!
This is what makes it great, you only pay 42 cents an ounce. Dad gets a Dad size while the kids can get a kid size and they pay for just what you need. No sizes that are too big or too small, they are all just right.
Sounds like a perfect world, right? Problem is, Gillian finds a way to destroy my sweet active culture Utopia. She gets the right amount of Froyo, but goes redonkulous on the toppings. She puts sooooooo many toppings on. If she put the right amount on, my parents would probably buy me my own bowl, but Gillian's Gummy Bears, mangos, and caramel eat the money that should be used for my Froyo. I end up sharing with Mom, but I at least get my own spoon.
Try Froyo. Tell them Asher sent you.