The summer of 1993, when I was doing some research in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, I became addicted to bagels. After I returned to Alabama, I searched everywhere, and there was not a real bagel to be found. Sure, there were frozen things available in the supermarkets here, but I'm talking about bagels fresh from the oven, with a big slab of cream cheese in the middle.
In Franconia, New Hampshire, I found some real bagels at this little coffee shop.
They even had a big chicken outside to welcome me.
They were just as good as I remembered. Hub got an everything bagel and I had the cinnamon/raisin. We each ate half, then swapped. We do this all the time when we are having different things to eat.
It is hard to say which one was the best. They were both amazingly good. Maybe more so because I knew it might be years before I have another one.
Back in '93, after looking and looking for fresh bagels, I tried to make some. I went exactly by the recipe, but when we tried to eat them, they were too hard to bite into. I gave them to my dog, and she promptly buried them in the backyard, which was probably the best place for them. Making bagels this good likely requires years of experience, like our Mama's biscuits. If you happen to be traveling in the Northeast, I would appreciate it if you would bring me one. Or a dozen.