
There is not a decent bagel to be had in all of
Portland, Ore. Yeah, that's right, I said it. I lived two blocks from a bagel shop and in the year and a half that I
lived there, I went there once, and once only. They were
ter.ri.ble. If it's not boiled, it's not a bagel.
(Sorry Noah's.) I like dense, chewy bagels, not fluffy, cakey bagels. I know there are those that will say that there
are no decent bagels to be had outside of New York. If you live there, and eat bagels there, lucky you! (Try not
to rub it in too much.)
Now that we are back in San Francisco, I woke up early this morning and headed to
one of my favorite bagel places,
House of Bagels on
Geary. I bought a baker's dozen of assorted bagels for $6.75 and loaded up on whitefish salad (my fave), chopped liver
with hard-boiled eggs, locally-made cream cheese, and lox. Then, I came home, made a pot of dark-roasted,
Caffé Trieste coffee (San Francisco's own), and invited some friends
over. One particularly
great friend had the forethought to stop for champagne and O.J. along the way. A bagel
and a mimosa later, we headed out for a walk. Finally, a decent bagel. What a perfect way to start a sunny
Sunday.