In the ever-escalating frozen yogurt wars, Pinkberry has deployed the ultimate weapon: delivery. (Or, as they prefer, “Swirls on Wheels.”) Their Upper West Side, Midtown East, Gramercy, Chelsea, Union Square, and Village locations each deliver to a pretty generous radius—most of Manhattan, north of Canal and south of 72nd Street, ends up covered. The minimum order is $10. Delivery hours are between noon and 8:00 p.m.—not the best for midnight cravings, but perfect for an afternoon pick-me-up.
It all sounds great, but can frozen yogurt really survive a thirty-minute bike trip? (Mine usually gets melty in the one-block walk between Sixth Avenue and Seventh.) We were skeptical, so we gave it a try. Our adventures in delivery fro-yo, after the jump.
1:06 PM: Emailed our order to firstname.lastname@example.org. A little confused: Is someone at Pinkberry sitting at the computer and clicking "refresh"?
1:20 PM: Still no response. Maybe an email ordering system isn't the greatest.
1:21 PM: All right. Calling the nearest Pinkberry, about twelve short blocks away.
1:24 PM: After several readings-back of my credit card number, the order is placed. “Thirty to forty-five minutes,” I’m told.
2:09 PM: Ticking past that 45-minute mark.
2:15 PM: PINKBERRY ARRIVES! In a very insulated refrigerator bag. Toppings are packaged separately, so cereal doesn't get soggy and mochi stays dry. Smart move!
Incredibly, the fro-yo wasn't melty at all—a bit squished from the ride, sure, but perfectly frozen, no softer than it should be. It may have taken an hour, but Pinkberry came through. A big success. Now, if only Red Mango delivered...