Frozen Yogurt Nomenclature

It’s sort of a shame that everybody calls it plain ol’ frozen yogurt. Wordsmiths, admen and lexicographers throughout the ages have bestowed upon society two vastly superior names that have sadly fallen from popular usage: Fro-yo and frogurt.

Sure, you hear both terms from time to time, but it’s nearly always in jest. They’re nonsense words used to poke fun at the SoCal, granola-crunching neohippie subculture one typically associates with the stuff. Dude, I totally spaced and dropped my fro-yo on my Birkenstocks - now they're all gnarly. Or At the Phish concert, I was like – whoa, man – the puka shell necklace line is even longer than the line at the frogurt concession! And not only is this an unfair representation of frozen yogurt’s position in society as a respected healthy alternative to traditional ice cream, it also robs us of the valid use of two words that are just plain goddamn fun to say.

Fro-yo. Say it. Say it again. If you can say it without a huge dopey grin on your face, you’re a better man than I am. Not only does it rhyme, fro-yo, it practically bounces. It bubbles out of the mouth like helium balloon with a marble in it. As you say it, it tumbles into the world like a Price is Right Plinko chip – popping back and forth with a carefree attitude that turns and says, “Come on, man. Take the afternoon off. Let’s go play hacky sack in the parking lot.”

And I don’t know how the more serious-minded frogurt got indicted right along with its slightly sillier counterpart. Frogurt is fast. Frogurt is efficient. A portmanteau devised to free us from the tedium of taking the time to pronounce all four syllables of fro-zen-yo-gurt. Who has all day to order a sweet tasty frozen snack? We’ve got Frisbees to throw, for crying out loud. While Poindexter here is still on syllable number three of frozen yogurt, I’m blissfully slurping away at my frogurt.

The decision: The terms “frogurt” and “fro-yo” are awesome. Unlike “frozen yogurt,” which is not.