bagels + 200 posts

I don't know how we got here, but this is post #202! That's cause for celebration. Thanks for reading, & I'm excited to see what the next 200 posts brings. (The end of our time in France? Exciting news about graduate school? The next big step of our married life?)

I'm also celebrating the return of my good mood. I've been a major black cloud the past few days, & last night at about 10 p.m. I knew that I could fix it. I busted out the bagel recipe I'd found & set myself to work while Joe & I watched a movie.

Our oven is small. I don't have malt syrup, so I was substituting sugar.  I accidentally added two tablespoons instead of two teaspoons of it. My warm water wasn't as warm as it needed to be. All in all, things weren't starting out well.

But when I started kneading the dough, I felt myself return to that calm, centered side of myself–the side that has made some tough decisions & come out largely unscathed, the side that I used to rely on more than I have been lately, the side that overcomes things & stops crying about it.

I will never have a successful food blog. I will never write a cookbook. I will never have the top food pictures on flickr. But when did this become what all baking discussions were about? I've learned to stop judging myself by the success of others.

My bagels came out well enough. The outside is basically the same texture as the inside, but that's really the only disappointment. The yeast was able to eat most of that sugar, so they don't taste too sweet. And I did it for myself.

For me, this is what baking is about. The return to the heart of the home & the tradition of making food for family & for the people you care about. There were no processed ingredients, no preservatives, no glosses or waxes or chemicals. There were ingredients that have been on this earth for centuries. I love this feeling–the transformation of five main ingredients into a warm breakfast (or midnight snack warm from the oven).

It. felt. so. good. I was reminded of my mom making cinnamon rolls, my cousins fighting over the best rolls at my grandma's house, my time at the café, late nights in my rental house during  college (making even less healthy snacks); I had a chance to think of the families before ours, going way back, that did the same thing & the memories it brought to their mind. I felt like I was back in my own mind, finally out from under that horrible cloud.

**uploader isn't working, so click over to my tumblr for a picture**

Now, it's time to eat these bagels for breakfast. My perfect bagel? Sesame or everything. Toasted well (so the outside becomes crisp but your bite cracks into a soft interior). Peanut butter & cinnamon. Eat the halves separately, not stacked together. Maybe even some honey. I used to always include a banana, but Joe & I got scared off of them with the whole deforestation thing... But we have awkward French peanut butter!

Nancy, France has two Canadian bagel locations, & I was nervous to try them. I spent the last four years of my life as a barista in a café that made its own bagels, using the owner's family recipe. I didn't want someone ruining my bagels–crispy outside with a soft, resilient inside. Then, one of my French professors who has a knack for finding really good news articles sent me a link to this piece. 

What was decided: Montreal bagels are better in flavor, texture & tradition. One New York food critic had this to say:

New York bagels used to be artisanal, too, as in made mostly by hand by people who knew what they were doing.

 I agree–not necessarily about bagels, but about most things. For me, part of baking is returning to that tradition.

What food traditions do you hold to most strongly?

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