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A review of pinkberry by an inherent lactose intolerant Mikey.

Ok, here it goes. Last night Melody and I made our way to Pinkberry in the LBC. Melody asked if I was interested in grabbing another dessert at pinkberry after our meal at Tarantula, Terranium or something like that. [Tantalum] The idea of a second dessert was tantalizing, but pinkberry? Fueled by the sheer talent of Melody’s persuasion and my lack of will power we made it to Pine and Broadway.

Thankful, yet still wary, that the initial dose of lactaid at dinner was holding true to its promise to protect me from the dairy demons; we casually walked into the venue. I was immediately overwhelmed by trendy modern decor and bright fluorescent lighting. Scanning around at the Italian chotchkies, Bombo Tables, Ghost Chairs, and Zebra Wood soffit Melody is trying to get my attention, “Are you sure you don’t want any?” I shake my head no, as in no thanks. “Ok, you can have some of mine.” she insisted as she turned back to the counter. Continuing my evaluation I inspected the construction of the floor, which seemed to be some sort of super exposed aggregate concrete. It looked a bit like a bunch of earth colored jelly beans all stuck together, I could have sworn it was a bit squishy too. Did I just hear the word “Medium?” Medium? In response to the adolescent servers inquiry of quantity. This could be disastrous I thought.

Earlier in the evening, accompanying the first dose of lactaid, was a truffled mac n’ cheese. I wanted to see if I could taste the truffle.. nope.. just cheese. Maybe next time. Somewhere lodged in my subconscious the idea of consuming mac and cheese had its consequences… so far so good.

Mikey-1
Dairy-0

We sat in the corner of the shop where I had clear view of the counter and chotchkies. Sitting in the center of the table was this tub of dairy lightly adorned with strawberries and mochi. “Here’s another,” stated Melody as the angelic dose of lactaid joined the party. As if it were exstacy and we were at a rave, I eagerly consumed the ‘night-saving’ pill. I readied my spoon. To be true and unbiased my first bite consisted of pure pinkberry, no strawberry, no mochi. Immediately my companion asked what I thought. “Its sour” I uttered. (In the back of my head sour and dairy should be definite warning signs that something is amiss.) Bite two. More sour. Staring across the table in concern, “Is it supposed to be sour?” I was assured that what I was tasting was spot on. Bite Three. Four. Five. I was getting used to the taste, accepting it for what it was. Gradually the ratio of toppings vs yogurt began to favor the toppings. Conversation continued at good pace as it was much more exciting and natural than consumption of pinkberry. I began to feel at ease as my trust in this honorable supplement grew along with Melody’s assurance it would do the trick. I knew at that point in time someone was watching over me…was it God? the Easter Bunny? Santa? Nope, it was the Dr. Skud flyswatter peering through the translucent green dots. Good Ole Dr.Skud!

Verdict: While not a diehard fan of anything dairy, the experience was enjoyable. Another success of lower GI tract.
“When do we pinkberry again?”
Did I just say that?