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An Open Letter to Bagels

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My dearest densely packed carbohydrate companion,

The only fathomable way I could begin my love letter to you is with a simple thank you. Thank you for all the joy and stability you bring to my life. At the start of the day, as light seeps across the sky, my alarm begins its auditory assault. I drag my zombie body across the apartment to the freezer, where I am instantly comforted by your presence smiling out from between the ice cream and frozen chicken. With you patiently waiting for me every morning, I’ll always be able to pull myself out of the bed because the thought of you, freshly toasted bagel, is just too much to resist.

But baby, I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to minimize you to just a basic breakfast option. Your versatility knows no bounds. It’s true that you, toasted golden brown and spread with a delicate jam is the best way to kick start a day, but you can be the greatest comfort at the end of a long day with a gooey fried egg topped with melted cheese as well. Breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, or just a quick snack – anytime can be bagel time.

Not only do you proffer your abundant bounty with timeless availability, but also through the the limitless flavors you wear. Sweet, savory, or both juxtaposed together – your variety knows no bounds.

You pair well with any ingredient I could ever fathom placing in the hallowed space between your bready buns: deli meats, hummus, cheeses, eggs, anything. You are steroids for any sandwich. Why use basic whole grain supermarket bread, when a bagel turns a simple meat, cheese, bread concoction into true sandwich art?

As though you couldn’t be content with just amazing flavor, you’re also killing the aesthetic game. You’re the fashionista of the carbohydrate world with countless styles made from seed encasements. Sometimes you have nothing on your body, but it’s your being itself that is swirled with resonate colors hinting at your taste.

You are the champion for those of us who find that hunger sets on rapidly with a vengeance. With poppy seed and shmear in hand you effortlessly conquer all pangs of a temperamental stomach. You are perfect in your ways of juxtaposing never overstuffing my stomach, but while keeping me full and happy through the day.

Oh Bagel, I have saved the most sanctified aspect about you for last. There is not a single thing in this world that is more perfect than you, freshly baked, pillowed cream cheese, topped with delicately salted lox. The combination of these three key components is enough to make the most steadfast atheist believe in a higher power. It is the pinnacle of culinary creation. If there is a cult surrounding the perfection of cream cheese and lox bagel then I will join it. If none such cult exists, I will found it myself because you deserve to be worshipped.


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