By Ceri Phillips

Every once in a while I stumble upon something wonderful. Well, to be more accurate, I walk along quite briskly, late for a meeting and then, on stopping for a moment, usually to tie a shoelace or spit out some gum, realize where I am or where I seem to be or around or about to experience and it turns out to be something wonderful. But my opener has more zing…the fuck was I writing? Ah yes, the last time I happened upon something wonderful was a week or so ago in good old London, (oh, for those of you who don’t know, London is a quiet, unassuming city near Slough). I was busy shopping for a few essential items in Covent Garden; essential items like root beer, American chocolate bars and impractical yet highly fashionable boots when KABLOOM! Thunder. I hate the frigging rain so I took cover in the first shop I could see. A place selling frozen yogurt.

Now, I am not the biggest fan of most frozen desserts apart from ice cream and I must concede that I am a total ice cream Nazi. Anything less than orgasmic ice cream is spat across the restaurant/parlour/funeral home into the coffin (sorry Aunty Em). Most other frozen desserts are gimmicky bollocks or pretentious “palate cleansers” used to add on £7.50 or more to your bill. Frozen yogurt is just not my thing. Plus, this place is called “Snog”. The name made me remember awkwardly tongue-poking braced acne sufferers in the corner of some dingy disco…when I was a teen, I hasten to add.

However, this particular vendor of iced cow juice is so fucking extraordinary that I will not only go again and again, I’m buying some god damned shares in the business!


Seriously now, this place rocked my tiny mind. First off, the fact that green tea frozen yogurt is available here wooed me past my initial pessimism. My girlfriend suggested I try a smaller size, pointing to a gluttonous child sitting with a “Medium” that should be called an “Oh fuck I need some stomach staples, Mum.”  After you pick a size and which flavour yogurt (plain, green tea, or a rather stunning dark chocolate) you get to pick toppings and sauces. I got an original flavour with white chocolate stars and a shot of espresso on top.

Sweet shit! My taste buds have barely recovered! I swear I heard a tiny muffled “Oi! This tastes like shite” emanating from the end of my tongue last time I ate some Ben and Jerry’s. Must have been the LSD.
The best thing about this chance discovery was exactly that; it was a total fluke. If I’d been told about this place by a trillion trendy Hoxtonites and urged to “pop in when I have a mo” (or however the fuck they’d phrase it), I would have enjoyed my experience. I would have thought “yeah, this is nice”. But finding it myself, as if I were customer numero Uno and therefore “special”, amplified the pleasure.
So next time you’re walking from one tube station to another or (if you don’t live in London) from one…uh…taxi rank to another…please stop and look at the shops and cafes around you. You may just discover a not so hidden gem.

Ceri Phillips is a young writer and actor currently playing Ollie in BBC’s Coming of Age. He’s also creating comedy forhis sketch group ‘Le 122’.