Bagels

when you can't buy the bagels, you make the bagels 🥯

Loving, craving, cooking food, is an exercise in memory and expectations. Our brains are wired to form lasting memories around and about food, and it makes up such a big part of the stories we tell about who we are and where we come from.¹ And so it comes as no surprise that I’m constantly making things — from cookies to Thanksgiving stuffing — from my childhood in New England.

Where I grew up, weekend mornings meant a baker’s dozen of warm bagels in a big paper bag with a few tubs of cream cheese. When I lived in Montreal, the bagels became a bit smaller and sweeter. When I lived in NYC, the bagels became fatter and the varieties of cream cheese more exciting. But there were always bagels.

Bagels exist here in England but the culture around them isn’t really there. Good bagels are very hard to find and when we do they’re priced like the novelty …