It’s 10.30pm on a weekday evening in New York City. The air still stinks after a day of 100-degree heat and the smoke from the Canadian wildfires that, until nightfall, have bathed Manhattan in a blurry, seamy haze.
But nothing will deter those waiting in line (or “on line” as New Yorkers will correct you) for Greek frozen yoghurt from Myka.
Here, on 7th Avenue in Greenwich Village, a queue of mostly young people lines up within a cordon. The crowd is a hubbub of chatter, no one bemoaning the wait. Framed in the window of the store, a woman raises a spoon of fro-yo to her mouth – her blissed-out expression implies those waiting won’t be disappointed…