So Over Fro Yo

Once upon a New York Minute, fro yo (a.k.a., frozen yogurt) was the height of trendy.  

When I lived in Manhattan, the "Sex & the City" favorite Tasti-di-lite chain was as plentiful as Starbucks.

Pinkberry wasn’t just for the cool kids down in fashion-heavy SoHo; we “Yuppy West Siders”  even had our own Pinkberry.  The year was 2008.  Fro yo was as over as the "Sex & the City" movies.

Flash forward to Tampa Bay today.  For all our sunshine, we’re not cutting edge. Tampa tends to be behind the trends.  We know we’re not Manhattan.  That’s why we live here. But the Big Apple knows when something is passé.  We should pay attention.

Overnight, fro yo’s overloaded the Bay.  In St. Pete, alone there’s Yogurtology and My Yogurt Cafe, with rumors of a third spot to hit the scene.  My opinion? I’m over $5 for a cup of frozen yogurt whose healthful benefits seem vague at best.  

I like the idea of it, especially given our summers. So do the adolescents who pack Yogurtology on 4th Street North. Part of the appeal is the DIY approach, where customers pick their flavor and then pile on the toppings.

The names of the desserts also are fun and new and different, like Red Raspberry Pomegrante Explosion, Blackberry Bliss and Keylime Pie.

But flavoring yogurt to taste like cake, peanut butter, milkshakes... creepy.  Kids' stuff. Who doesn't want to eat something "healthy" that also happens to look and taste like a high-calorie, sugar-laden dessert?

Give me a bite of the real thing any day.

Yogurtology offers 12 rotating flavors and 60 toppings. Some of the toppings are fresh, like fruit or nut toppings. But slap on too many Oreos? There goes the healthy.  May as well order cake and eat it, too.

, on 6th Street South,  is another new frozen dessert shop but is in a class of its own; it stands out for adhering to a family tradition and farm-fresh ingredients. Rudolph's revives an early 20th Century dessert made with butter fat and egg yolks.

I can see Rudolph’s in Manhattan’s East Village catering to the pretend hipster crowd. Hipsters would revel in the retro decor: Christmas tunes, Coney Island origins of custard (back in 1919), and red-nosed reindeer cherry atop each serving.  And at $2.25 for a small creamy cup, custard is a bargain. Drawback for St. Pete? Location--and we don’t have that many hipsters.

Trends are ephemeral.  By definition, trends don’t last.  As much as I’d love to see My Yogurt Cafe flourish, the Beach Drive store is virtually identical to the swankier Yogurtology on 4th Street North.

Plus My Yogurt Cafe has to contend with the fact that it is right down Beach Drive from arguably the best frozen dessert shop in Tampa Bay or the state of Florida: Paciugo. The shop offers handmade Italiam gelato daily, made with fresh ingredients. And it usually is packed with adults, with lines out the door on weekends.

Both frozen yogurt places are clean and new fun. Adults perhaps like the idea of taking kids to a place that at least in name sounds nutritious, even as they pack the candies and cookies on their yogurt treat.

But it is hard to imagine these faddish dessert shops enduring after the Tampa Bay frozen yogurt trend is replaced by something else.