Some early fall Pinkberry to bring me back

The other day, I met NK at Pinkberry for a midweek evening snack. I've mentioned a couple of times before that I don't go to Pinkberry very often, since it's outrageously expensive and always leaves me feeling a little empty and used, somehow. But for an evening snack, it's relatively harmless, so we Pinkberry'd away.

This time, I tried the chocolate Pinkberry, swirled with the original flavor. The best way I can describe this combination is... odd. The chocolate Pinkberry is pretty much exactly as you'd expect it: a slight cocoa taste overlaid on the classic tart, yogurty tang. It might be just the thing for some people, but to my palate the combination is just a little weird, and the toppings I picked-- strawberry, mango, and little chocolate beads that had their own slightly off flavor-- didn't do anything to harmonize the tastes. The swirl of original flavor only served to accentuate the yogurtyness, highlighting how out of place the chocolate seemed. It was basically a cup of dischord; each flavor tasting okay on its own but stubbornly fighting the others like two recalcitrant toddlers in a sandbox.

Pretty enough, but...

So there you go. For about $6, it's not the best snack I've ever mustered up in this town. Next time I'm stickin' with ice cream.

Pinkberry
Locations around the city

Pinkberry. It's good.

Last weekend, it was freakin', freakin' hot out. But since these days I'm cooped up inside at my computer all day, I was dead set on getting out and walking around for a while. So I headed down to the New Amsterdam Market, where I managed to spill red wine all over my yellow shorts within a few moments of arriving. I'm serious. There I was, on the complete other side of town, soaked in wine that was ruining 50% of my summer wardrobe (I only own two pairs of shorts that fit) with every passing second. Did I go home and try to launder them immediately, as a quick internet search on my Blackberry revealed was the best course of action? Um, no. I ducked into the nearest bathroom, blotted halfheartedly, decided the shorts were ruined, and then went on my merry way.

After finishing with the Market, I ended up walking north, through the blistering and hectic streets of Chinatown, and found myself in Nolita. There was a Pinkberry. I went in. I waited on line. I ordered. I blacked out-- what just happened?

Okay, what happened was this: I was there for the watermelon flavor, which according to the friendly cashier was "on vacation" at the moment (um, how come Pinkberry flavors get summer vacation when I don't???). It was replaced by mango, so I got a small cup with half original, half mango. I declined toppings; curiously, since the last time I'd been to a Pinkberry, they'd switched the price-per topping structure with a "toppings bar," where you pay for "toppings" and can get as many as you want. Kind of cool! Still, I bypassed it for the straight-up goods.

Twin peaks

All I can say is, yum. On a hot day, Pinkberry is seriously refreshing. The mango tasted like mango yet wasn't overpoweringly sweet; the original was creamy and tangy and delightful. The whole cup was gone in a minute or so as I gobbled it down before heading out into the streets.

I always leave Pinkberry feeling a little bit bereft, like I just spent a lot of money on something that was good but yet not...good...enough... or something. I don't know. I think the point is, Pinkberry is damn expensive, and that's why I don't go very often. But on a hot summer day when you're nearing heatstroke status, it'll do a body good.

Oh, and readers, in case you're wondering: When I returned home (after walking yet more through the Village), I decided in a fit of self-starting to go all Martha Stewart on those yellow shorts' ass. Figuratively. A bit more googling revealed a promising home remedy, and a quick trip to the nearby corner bodega later, I witnessed a miracle-- the stain was gone. So, I hereby bring you probably the only useful piece of advice you will ever get out of this blog:

How To Remove A Red Wine Stain From Anything:

Mix one part dishwashing soap (the liquid stuff you use for soaking pans in your sink) with two parts hydrogen peroxide. Pour on the stain. Let it soak. In a few minutes you will return and the stain will be gone. I am not kidding.

Pinkberry
Various locations in NYC and beyond

Pomegranate Pinkberry, because it's warm out

After a semi-successful dinner with BL on the UWS Saturday night (review to come), we debated our dessert prospects. The dessert menu was somewhat tempting... there was a particular tiramisu that was calling my name. But then BL mentioned he had a two-for-one Pinkberry coupon that expired the following day, and so it was decided. Sure, it may be 20 degrees out, and I may be unable to regulate my own body temperature, but there was a COUPON at STAKE here. Need I say more?

We blackberried the nearest Pinkberry, paid our billberry and headed for the doorberry. Ten frigid blockberries later (okay, I'll stop), we had found a Pinkberry (oddly, not the one we were heading for, but one about four blocks down the road from that location, apparently. Yay New York!). We joined the short line, slowly made our way to the front, and each asked for a taste of the new pomegranate flavor. It tasted, well, faintly pink. That is to say, it tasted pretty much identical to the original flavor, but it was pink, so it gave that extra bit of satisfaction. I ended up with a small swirl of original and pomegranate, for no real reason other than it looked pretty, and chose the oreo topping. BL went for a small original with strawberries. We paid. We used the coupon. We were satisfied. And cold. But really, after all, what else is dessert for other than to taste delicious while harming your body in a small yet significant way? Think about it.

Isn't it cute?