Falling in Love with a Bagel
No I did not mean those cute puppies the beagle. I fell in love with a bagel. A perfect round piece of bread which was chewy on the outside and soft on the inside. Its perfect balance of toppings were crunchy and salty in all the right ways and the smear on the inside was enough to make a girl feel all kinds of inappropriate things toward food.
Now before you all go writing my mother or the first psychologist you can find in a Google search you need to understand one important thing about me. For me food is love, it is the manifestation of a culture and it is a thing which forms the strongest ties in my memory. I am loath to admit the number of times that eating food has made me cry, not because it was loaded with chili peppers, but because it reminded me of a specific time, place, and emotion. New York City took me to so many places with food, places as diverse as the people who live there, but this bagel… this bagel was classic old New York and I reveled it all its divine simplicity.
Come back tomorrow to find out how I rock the ackward
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