A New York Bagel

Ask any person who has lived in New York City and since moved away what, if anything, he misses from New York and his answer will be one of two things:  "Pizza" or "Bagels".  I've already posted about pizza (and will again soon), but I want to turn my attention to the second item for a moment.

There are those who will tell you that there is something inherent about New York City that makes the bagels unique.  Usually the culprit is the water, but I suppose it could just as well be the air or some other uniquely New York item that gives the bagels there that special something.  Frankly, however, I'm more inclined to believe that it is neither the water nor any other particular magic ingredient from New York that gives the bagels there the special texture and taste, but rather a combination of two related things: First, the guys making really good bagels in New York City have it pretty good.  They're in a place where their trade is respected, they get to do something they love for an audience that loves them for it.  Why would they choose to go elsewhere?  Sure, they could go to Atlanta or Phoenix and make a bagel just as delicious as the one they make in New York, but why on earth would they?  All the talent decides to stay in New York, and therefore the bagels everywhere else are sub-par.  Secondly, due to the proliferation of "bagels" sold in grocery stores nationwide that are really just factory line Wonder Bread with a hole in the middle, I'm of the opinion that the majority of Americans who came face to face with a New York bagel might not even know what it was they were tasting.  They might think it was too chewy, that the crust was too hard, that it didn't come with cranberry apple slices on top, or whatever it is they eat on bagels (onion, sesame, poppy, salt... there are only 4 kinds of bagels, capiece?)...  that it just wasn't like the bagels they knew and loved from "back home."

The story behind the bagel is that it was invented in the 17th Century, following the breaking of the Turkish siege of Vienna by the Polish King John Sobieski.  The polish baker, who's name has been lost to time, took bread and formed it into a hollow circle to represented the stirrups on King Sobieski's cavalry.  It was spread around the world by Jewish immigrants, who by and large landed and settled in New York, creating their own industry of bagel bakeries in the five boroughs.

When I tell my friends that I make bagels for myself (and L, of course), most are frankly suspicious.  The predominant problem most people have is that bagels must be astronomically hard to make.  Most ask, "But, don't you have to boil them?"  As if none of them had ever made pasta before.  To get something out of the way off the top rope here, yes, you have to boil them.  A minute per side.  It's not excruciating, I promise.

The recipe I use comes from Peter Reinhart's Bread Baker's Apprentice, of course.  I sleep with the book under my pillow, I feel like everyone should know.

This time I did make the addition of trying some toppings which I have not done in the past.  I did six sesame bagels, which are by far my favorite type, three salt and three onion.  I dropped off a bunch with my friend who I believe might be the largest concentration of New York Jewish outside of the Brooklyn Chasidic community, and he pronounced them fabulous.  His wife from New Mexico also said they were good, but what does she know?

It's important to note that the recipe is a two day job (like most of the recipes in Reinhart's book) and so you should leave time to do the mixing of the dough the day before, then boil and bake the next morning.  The bagels also keep only for 3 or 4 days out on the counter.  What I should have done this time, but forgot to, was freeze a number of them, then defrost them through the week.  Frozen bagels are not as good as fresh ones, but are much better than stale ones, that's for sure.