Yogurtas

Not long ago, it seems, frozen yogurt was ice cream’s second-rate cousin: the exclusive province of dieters, hippies, and people without taste buds.

Today, Harvard Square paints a very different picture. Although Cambridge has always been in the vanguard of the frozen yogurt movement—allegedly, the world’s first “frogurt” cone was served in the Square in 1971—consumers’ options have multiplied in recent years.  There’s local favorite Berryline, national chain Pinkberry, and self-serve newcomer Yogurtland. Even those stores known more for their ice cream have frozen yogurt on offer: J.P. Licks, Ben and Jerry’s, and Lizzy’s (we know, we’ve never been to Lizzy’s either, but it really is over there on Church Street).

The froyo boom is a great thing for sweet-toothed consumers—who knew there were so many fun compound words to be made with “berry”?

More importantly, more competition means more variety (including low-sugar and low-fat varieties), as well as deals and discounts as franchises try to attract patrons. The craze has even led to innovation in business models: Yogurtland (like 16 Handles, Red Mango, and other brands) saves on labor costs by offering self- rather than counter-service.

A good (or even not-so-good) student of Economics 10 might find this puzzling: why are people willing to pay about as much for frozen yogurt when they’ve got to supply the labor themselves?

Because the self-serve model gives consumers a sense of control, letting them select flavors, toppings, and quantities. Its brilliance lies in its juxtaposition of perceived health and opulence. At Yogurtland, for instance, flavors range from Red Velvet Cupcake Batter to Pecans and Pralines to Blue Lychee Bliss Tart, add-ons from caramel syrup to cookies to fruit. But, go to pay (and with a Harvard ID, get the first three ounces free), and you’re still just buying yogurt.

Frozen yogurt is clearly more than a fad—the question is whether so many similar stores can thrive in such close proximity.  Froyo retailers enjoy high profit margins; Harvard Square’s many vendors may all benefit from a surge in consumer awareness and a shift in their preferences (towards the tangy and proteinaceous). Alternatively, Cambridge froyo may be entering a period of creative destruction in which only the strong—or, perhaps, most beautifully swirled—survive. To each of the Square’s storied froyo venders, we have a word of advice: Be the first to add a non-dairy variety to your offerings and break into the lucrative vegan and health nut markets (collectively constituting a not insignificant slice of the city of Cambridge).

We believe it’s important to note once more that frozen yogurt’s burgeoning popularity is due in large part to its healthy aura—it straddles the divide between breakfast and dessert. And while, broadly speaking, we acknowledge the importance of making healthy choices, we worry that Cambridge residents might represent the other extreme. We’re fans of froyo. But if Marvin Gaye was right, and it’s true that there “ain’t nothing like the real thing,” we’d encourage even the most ardent of froyo devotees to enjoy a good old-fashioned ice cream cone every once in a while.