One day in February, a notice appeared on the website San Francisco Eater. An unknown outfit called Eastside Bagels was hosting a pop-up at a Mission District bar called Dear Mom. One morning only: actual New York bagels, with schmear, lox or pastrami. Doors open at 11:30 a.m.
On the sidewalk outside Dear Mom, the mood quickly turned from grateful to complaining. Many customers felt disgusted by the line (though, of course, they themselves were the line). Others were outraged by the prices: $6 for a bagel with cream cheese; $10 for a lox or pastrami bagel sandwich, the latter with a poached egg. Half the customers left unfulfilled because of lack of inventory.
Oh hey California traitors, are you enjoying your sun and your temperate climate and your drought and your and your cocaine on tap? Well one thing you aren’t enjoying is fresh bagels, made the way the God of Bagels intended them to be made, per this great Times Magazine story about California’s east coast transplants and their mad quest for a New York bagel. Maybe you can eat your “Why I Left New York” essays instead.
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