New Yorkers are a cultish little crew.
If New Yorkers like a particular store, they will shop there regardless of the bad service, iffy merchandise, or remote location.
If New Yorkers are loyal to a hairdresser, it doesn’t matter if that hairdresser moves to Philadelphia – the true New Yorker will schlep.
And the feelings that they have for frozen yogurt run deep and passionate.
When my girlfriend brought me for frozen yogurt right before my birthday, I thought it was just a light lunch date.
I didn’t know that she was initiating me into Satan’s lair.
IE, Forty Carrots.
If you get here on a weekday and don’t mind waiting for 10 minutes, you can almost always sit down for your meal. On a weekend, I’m sure that it would be MURDER to try to get a table.
Try not to trip over the yummy mummies, hordes of tourists, and fashionistas on your way to the table. If you have a low tolerance for ladies who lunch, this may not be the place for you. However, if you love to people watch as much as my friend and I do, settle in for the best reality non-tv on the face of the planet. Chopped Greek salad
Surprisingly huge – most of the women here look as though they haven’t eaten this much food since Thanksgiving when they were 11. This is fresh, really tasty, and I’m telling you – big enough for a light lunch for 2 or a really filling lunch for 1. The chicken is warm and crispy outside, tender inside. The veggies are finely diced, with crunchy romaine lettuce, cucumber, juicy kalamata olives, and plenty of creamy chickpeas. The dolmades alongside are soft and salty, filled with dilled rice that is somehow creamy but not mushy. The pita is warm and soft and the lemon oregano dressing is tart with mustard, creamy, and just rich enough to up the light salad’s ante. I would get this again.
Except…I never will again.
Because, you know…next time I will be getting this:
This is the best frozen yogurt I have had – ever. Period. When I was a kid in Southern California, fro yo shops were all the rage. I remember going all the time with my dad and sister, getting huge cups filled with nonfat gray cookies ‘n’ cream yogurt that had a weird, airy consistency and was doubtless filled with enough chemicals to kill a horse.
Aah, California in the 90s.
But this was not that.
This is rich. It’s creamy. It’s tart but not bitter or bracing. It’s sweet in a very clean, milky, fresh yogurt-y way. The coffee flavor is wonderfully complex, with notes of espresso, caramel, chocolate, and almonds. The carob chips are a nostalgic throwback andthe oreos…well, I haven’t ever said no to an Oreo and I’m not going to start now.
This place isn’t stupidly expensive for how much food you get and the food really is delish. If you can either stand the crowds or get your food to go, it’s so worth it.
So get me a candle and prepare me for the initiation.
I’m joining the Forty Carrots cult.