tesg's guide to big chain road food consumption
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CHAIN -- Hogi
Yogi (and Teriyaki Stix) It's a cute name, sure. But when your signage looks like the image above, it just gets confusing. First off, what's a teriyaki stick? Is Hogi Yogi the brand name for a teriyaki stick? Is a teriyaki stick something like a Japanese taquito? Actually, "Hogi" is a sandwich. "Yogi" is frozen yogurt. And "Teriyaki Stix" is a bowl of meat and rice which you can eat with chopsticks. Or the plastic fork they give you here. Whatever. You'd wonder why they just didn't change the name to Hogi Yogi Yaki. Okay, maybe not. The chain started in Logan, Utah in 1989. Founder Mike Clayton thought combining sandwiches (hoagies) and frozen yogurt would work well together. They would pull in two kinds of crowds, and they both were considered healthier fast food options in the days before marketing wizards made everybody fear carbs. The "Hogi Yogi" name came accidentally when somebody at the dinner table kidded Clayton about his "hogis and yogis". It was catchy. It stuck. The chain's growth went slowly at first as the business plan was refined, then franchising began. A Deseret News article I found from the mid 1990's claimed the chain had about 70-plus units on the drawing board and would be national eventually. You'll find all but three units in Utah today. Their "About Us" page mentions "over 70 restaurants" and mentions seven states, but there's nothing on the locations page the locations page only has 32 locations as of December 2009, down from 47 at the end of 2008. More stores have actually closed than the numbers show because a couple of new ones have also opened. The chain until recently had a presence in Arizona and Nevada, and once apparently had a presense in North Dakota and Texas. The sandwiches come in two varieties…Original and Signature. Original sandwiches are standard 6-inch or 12-inch subs on your choice of bread (baked fresh daily). The usual meats are available, topped as you please. It's so much like Subway that you could dress an identical sandwich from each chain and be hard pressed to tell the difference. There's a difference in selection, sure, but if you make two identical… Notably absent is Pastrami. I didn't think restaurants were allowed to do business in Utah without offering pastrami. "Signature sandwiches" have pre-determined breads and toppings. They come in a one-size-fits-all format. Some come hot. The fat-free frozen yogurt comes in plain or chocolate, then you add mix-ins. The mix-ins are mixed with what I can only describe as a great big drill bit. Having something like this in the kitchen at home would get men to cook. The drill makes the difference between Hogi Yogi and competitors like Cold Stone. The drill bit turns strawberries, for example, into a strawberry frozen yogurt, whereas at Cold Stone you'd have a plain ice cream with strawberries mixed in. I had a strawberry mix recently that was made with frozen solid strawberries. That came off more like gelato. The best mix is sherbet. Orange sherbet mixed with the plain custard equals a lovely concoction. CREAMY! Dreamy. The lime and raspberry aren't bad either. But it's the orange sherbet mix that will make me go out of my way to find a Hogi Yogi. Hogi Yogi also has cookies baked on site. Pretty good cookies. Want a frozen yogurt cookie sandwich? Of course you do. And you can have one. Teriyaki Stix features bowls with a rice base topped in your choice of chicken and pork bowls. Teriyaki chicken, orange chicken, spicy chicken…There's versions with or without veggies. They're okay. I like Hogi Yogi, but aside from the novelty of having sandwiches and frozen yogurt under one roof, they're lacking that special something that really drives traffic. It might be marketing, it might be that magical menu item. Maybe it's a hot pastrami sandwich. Naah. Click here to return to tesg's guide to big chain road food consumption |