I wasn't in the mood for a donut. Actually, I was craving smoked fish on a bagel. So I dropped by New York Bagels on Hillcroft, an establishment that I was once thrown out of. Owner Jay Kornhaber was furious because I was taking notes while looking at his menu. When I refused to tell him what I was doing (writing a review), he followed me into the parking lot and wrote down my license number. I still love his bagels.
The bagel has been humorously defined as a donut dipped in concrete. But Donut Patrol is well aware that bagels aren't doughnuts, even while such bagel varieties as blueberry, raisin and cinnamon flirt with the donut border. My Jewish friends refer to such sweetened bagel concoctions as "goyishe bagels," or bagels for non-Jews.
I always ask for the bagels that just came out of the oven (unless they are sweet). This time I got a plain bagel. I bought a little plastic container of lox spread that Kornhaber keeps in the refrigerator case. I cut my bagel with a plastic knife and added the spread while standing in the parking lot, using my trunk lid for a picnic table.
Luckily, Kornhaber didn't spot me.
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