New York has it all — $1 slices of pizza, halal food trucks, and the best bagels in the world.
There are bagels, then there are New York bagels — the kind that steam up the paper bag like a lover’s breath on a cab window at dawn. You devour them on the subway at 8 a.m., cream cheese on your fingers and poppy seeds clinging to your coat. It’s not just a bagel, it’s an experience.
I was 17 the first time I ever tasted a New York bagel. It was Spring Break, and I was visiting my sister in Long Island. She lived above a Jewish bakery, so every morning the smell of freshly baked bagels wafted through the air vents and into her apartment. I dreamed of biting into one, hot out of the oven — the first crunch like a jolt of electricity to wake you up, then the soft dough melting into your mouth.
On Sunday morning, we woke up early to catch the train to Brooklyn. It was cold, even for mid-March, and all I wanted was a hot cup of coffee to keep me warm. But first — breakfast.
My sister made a point of giving me the full New York treatment, and the bagel shop downstairs was first on her list of things to do. I followed her into the busy bakery, several people already in line waiting for a quick morning meal before heading to work. The yeasty smell of warm bread and greasy fried eggs made my stomach purr with hunger.
There was no menu; people just knew what to get. My sister looked at me looking at the wire baskets full of bagels lining the back wall — plain, sesame, poppy seed, blueberry, cinnamon raisin. “I’m getting an everything bagel with vegetable cream cheese,” she said. “Do you know what you want?”
My eyes went wide. I did not know what I wanted. With a bagel, the options are endless; you could have a plain bagel with regular cream cheese, or an everything bagel with bacon, egg, turkey, cheddar, swiss — you name it. The man in front of us ordered a sesame seed bagel with lox, whatever that was.
“Lox is like a smoked salmon,” my sister said, sensing my curiosity. “Everyone around here gets it.” I nodded. I liked salmon, but had just committed myself to a vegetarian diet two months earlier. I wondered if I should play it safe with an everything bagel and cream cheese, or try lox for the sake of saying I had tried it. When in New York, I thought.
So, I ordered the lox bagel. While my sister paid, I watched the bakery assistant make our sandwiches. The blade of her knife sliced through the bagel, cracking open the shiny, outer crust and releasing a delicate ribbon of steam into the air. She spread a rich, velvety layer of cream cheese on both sides before placing three thin slices of lox and several rings of red onion on the bottom half. Then she wrapped our bagels neatly in tinfoil, placed them in a brown paper bag, and we were off.
Outside, the wind tore across my skin like sandpaper, nipping at my fingers until I could no longer feel the bag in my hand. I silently cursed myself for forgetting gloves and tucked the bag in my coat, the bagels like two hearts beating to keep me warm.
As we approached the train platform, my stomach could no longer fight the hunger — I needed to eat immediately. I pulled my bagel from the bag, handed my sister hers, and began unwrapping the sandwich with careful precision. I stopped to admire the beauty of my bagel, licks of smooth cream cheese and supple salmon peaking over the soft edges. I brought it to my lips slowly like a first kiss, mentally preparing myself for what came next.
That first bite was heaven. At first, a savory punch of garlic, onion, and sesame, then the sweet, tangy taste of cream cheese melting on my tongue. The red onion balanced out the creaminess with a much-needed crunch, but then the lox glided in — smooth and silky, salty and subtly smoky. It was the perfect bagel.
I’ve had many bagels since New York, but none have ever lived up to the everything bagel with lox and cream cheese I ate on the train platform with my sister. Even now, I still dream of that first bite.
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