In August a random Tiktoker dissected a “nightmare” date he supposedly had at frozen yoghurt chain Yo-Chi. The five-minute video went truly viral, pulling more than two million views by the end of the month, on an account used to numbers more like 5000.

Yo-Chi clapped back within days, dubbing over the story with Chappell Roan’s Feminomenon – a song about useless boyfriends – but ultimately ending on a playful, positive note: “Create what makes you happy” and “FYI we only have one cup size” (the man claimed his date chose “the biggest cup”). The video picked up almost as many views as the original.

The internet is awash with moments like these, but this particular one is emblematic of Yo-Chi’s surprising third act, which has seen the chain grow from just four locations to almost 40, and achieve something even more elusive than economic success: coolness. Not only do trendsetting 20-somethings want to have dates here – they’re eager to shout about it in the digital town square.

Billionaire toy-maker Manny Stul and his step-son Paul Solomon founded Yo-Chi in 2012, in Balaclava, in Melbourne’s south. Locations in Carlton, Hawthorn and Malvern followed, before Made Establishment – the hospitality group fronted by celebrity chef George Calombaris – took the reins in 2018. While the brand had a decent buzz about it then, it hardly felt like a first-date destination, let alone worth queuing for.

By 2020, Yo-Chi was the sole survivor of the crumbling Made empire. That same year, the chain’s four stores were snapped up by “re-founders” Oliver and Riley Allis (who were 23 and 21 at the time), the sons of Boost Juice founder Janine Allis. Evidently, the boys have inherited mum’s Mango Magic – or perhaps just her playbook. In four years they’ve expanded the business to 38 stores across Queensland, WA, SA and NSW. By the end of next year, they expect to be running at least 60 Yo-Chi stores nationwide.

As the superfund ads remind us, past performance does not guarantee future results, but the brand’s meteoric rise is starting to feel eerily like Boost 2.0. Boost now has more than 400 stores worldwide with a strong presence in Southeast Asia. Yo-Chi’s chief operating officer Brooke Rodger – who’s overseen most of the group’s third act – says the brand is currently in discussion with parties in Asia to see if there’s “an appetite to take Yo-Chi global”.

“I worked with [the family] when Boost was still fairly small and in a really rapid growth phase, so I was quite familiar with their style of running businesses,” she tells Broadsheet. “It's just been an absolute rocket ship over the last couple of years.”

As a former frozen yoghurt obsessive, I’ve had a front-row seat. The froyo wave reached Australia about a decade ago, and self-serve yoghurt taps were pouring in shopping centres around the country. But the trend fizzled out shortly thereafter. Messina (another chain to achieve that rare hype factor) stepped in, and gelato scooped the crown. I put down frozen yoghurt like an old toy.

But while I wasn’t looking, dairy’s forgotten sibling became the party I wasn’t invited to.
I realised this when I visited Yo-Chi’s Carlton store earlier this year. I did so on a Monday night, thinking there wouldn’t be a queue like the ones I’d seen snaking down Faraday Street on weekends. How wrong I was. The line stretched the length of the (very deep) store. I was getting flashbacks to the club lines I’d walk past in Fortitude Valley as an 18-year-old still living in Brisbane.

And so I wondered: have we swapped sweat beads on the dance floor for brain freeze by the topping station? Could Australia’s hottest club be a frozen yoghurt store?

You don’t need a rocket scientist to explain the appeal. Yo-Chi is like a grown-ups’ Cold Rock, where your choices are practically infinite and you can play it to your mood and price point (I swing between nut-and-pretzel-topped chocolate yoghurt and a fruity freakshow with popping pearls and fresh berries.)

But the real magic of Yo-Chi is this: if you’re looking for a low-cost, high-vibe “third place” to meet up with friends after 8pm, there’s really nowhere else to go. Yo-Chi stores have all the buzz of a pub, restaurant or, yes, even a club. But you don’t need to fork out $30 for a meal or commit to a few drinks. For the same price as a pint or an entree, you’ve got a perfect dessert. One that’s pretty fun to make, too.

“People aren't grabbing a Yo-Chi to take away most of the time,” Rodger says. “They want to sit and hang and make the most of being in that space, and it's the music and the atmosphere. Social connection is at the heart of the way that we design our spaces. It's very deliberate.”

In Sydney, Yo-Chi is about to open its largest store ever, in a curvaceous waterfront building that once held acclaimed seafood restaurant Cirrus and Noma’s now legendary 2016 pop-up. That a mass-market frozen yoghurt store has the heft to take over such a prestigious site speaks volumes.

Over in Coogee, Yo-Chi’s “eco-focused” store is a collage of upcycled materials including cork, bamboo and glass. (“If we ever needed to relocate this venue or strip it out, the entire shop could be stripped and either reused elsewhere or recycled,” Rodgers says.)

While no two Yo-Chi stores look the same, the vibe is universal no matter where (or when) you go. When I visit the Carlton store again, this time on a Friday night, a longer queue curls out the door. It’s a mix of high-school students, shy first-daters and work knock-offs. I keep my eyes to the ground as I walk past the line (because nobody is as scary as teenagers in groups). Inside, the neon signs once reserved for nightclubs and old diners are part of the atmosphere. A mirror ball spins overhead and Charli xcx’s Brat blares over the speakers. I’m not sure if this is where Charli imagined Club Classics playing, but it fits nonetheless.

Yo-Chi also proves how, like any good club banger, a celebrity cameo and killer remix can put you on the cultural map. The brand has achieved major cut-through with its numerous collabs. A collab with cult nut spread Pistachio Papi caused riots in the comments section when it sold out – now it’s available at all Yo-Chi stores. Tarts Anon’s Gareth Whitton has just added his own flair to the toppings station.

But for Rodger, the brand’s relentless pursuit of positivity – more than anything else – has been the key to its runaway success. Remember that Tiktok video, with its playful, positive ending?

“Chi is another word for energy, and so as a brand, we're all about positive energy and it comes through in everything we do,” she says. “It might feel like a wishy-washy answer, but our north star is about creating more positive energy in the world.”