Bagel Tour of L.A.

Man shall not live on bread alone; he must also have a bagel

According to urban legend, the bagel was invented in the shtetls of Poland by the Ashkenazi Jews in 1610.  It was brought to the United States, along with the other foods that form the staples of Jewish deli cuisine, during the immigration wave of the late 1800s.  A thriving business developed in New York City that was controlled for decades by the Bagel Bakers Union Local 338 which held the contracts for the workers who prepared all of the bagels by hand.   Non-union shops were crushed into submission by the union’s belligerent and confrontational striking tactic of incessant kvetching.  Bagels continued to be hand-made until the Lender family pioneered automated production and nationwide distribution.  Just as the Jews of America assimilated into the promised lands of Beverly Hills, Great Neck and Palm Beach, the bagel has assimilated into the diets of Americans, crisscrossing the country from San Diego to Bangor and Miami to Seattle.  No less a columnist than William Safire wrote in the New York Times in 1999 that “A sea change in American taste took place at the beginning of this decade.  The bagel overtook the doughnut in popularity.”

Despite my esteem for Mr. Safire’s acumen, I respectfully disagree.  In my childhood neighborhood the bagel was always more popular than the doughnut.  My grandfather, who introduced me to baseball, cribbage and the sweet, pungent fragrance of the pipe tobacco shop, would bring warm bagels every Sunday morning.  The kitchen would fill with the delightful, homey aroma.  To accompany the bagels, there was a cube of Philadelphia Cream Cheese (the real hard stuff, not the tub of spreadable goo that you buy these days at Gelson’s) and a pound of fresh lox, cut off the whole fish.  My grandfather understood how to take the sting out of the Sunday afternoon bar mitzvah lessons with Cantor Hammerman.

A basic, traditional bagel is made from high-gluten wheat flour, water, salt, yeast for leavening and a small amount of sweetener such as corn syrup or sugar.  The ingredients are mixed and kneaded to form a dough that is low in hydration to keep it stiff (insert your own cheap, tasteless joke here).  A long, thin piece of dough is shaped into the traditional round bagel shape with a hole in the middle.  The bagel is proofed in a cold bath for up to several days to develop the flavors and enhance the crust then boiled in salted water.  It is baked and abracadabra, faster than you can say hamotzi lechem min ha’aretz, you have a bagel.  This production method gives the ideal bagel a slightly crispy crust, a distinct “pull” when a piece is separated from the whole by biting or pinching, a doughy, but spongy and chewy interior and the flavor of bread freshly baked.

Having sacrificed to confirm that the best deli meat in the Big Orange is at Langer’s, I took another one for the team and drove around the entire Los Angeles Basin to find the best of the bagel.  I followed the original route of Father Serra along the El Camino Real in order to test independent, boutique, artisanal bagel shops.  According to records found in the sacristy of the Mission San Gabriel Arcángel, Father Serra (who himself was partial to the jalapeño-cheese bagel), introduced the bagel into Alta California in 1778, long before the Jews brought it from Eastern Europe.  Interestingly, the bagel had passed from the Hapsburgs of the Holy Roman Empire (which controlled Poland) to Spain with the intermarrying of the royal families. The bagels will be rated by strict objective criteria using the scientific method, as my arbitrary judgments are otherwise known.  The style will be categorized as orthodox, conservative or reform.  The quality will be graded from one through four yarmulkes. 

Pop’s Bagels

My quest for the perfect bagel started in the heart of Brentwood at Pop’s Bagels.  Pop’s is a small shop with an inside counter for ordering and an adjacent sidewalk eating area.  To say that parking to pick up a quick take out bagel is a challenging and taxing experience would be an understatement.  Pop’s sells the standard bagel varieties including plain, sesame seed, poppy seed, onion and everything.

I ordered the analytical standard of an onion bagel.  Pop’s proves the adage about beauty being only skin deep.  The bagel was gorgeous:  large, massively leavened, covered with dried, crisp onion bits aplenty with a bonus of poppy seeds on top of a crunchy crust.   Upon biting into this seductress, however, the disappointment was overwhelming.  The bagel was dry to the point of being difficult to swallow and had little in the way of flavor.

Layla Bagels

To cool down from the disheartening experience at Pop’s, I drove toward the beach.  The destination was Layla Bagels in the Ocean Park section of Santa Monica.  Layla Bagels was designed of the millennial, by the millennial and for the millennial, no ifs, ands or buts about it.  Layla has an ultramodern, Swedish look of concrete, glass and steel.  The variety options were limited compared to the average (or even below average) bagel shop with only half a dozen varieties available.  In an affront to both good taste and traditional Hassidic sensibilities, an onion bagel was not on the menu so I chose a plain bagel. 

At first glance I did not see a hole in the middle.  I immediately thought this was an evil omen as apparitions had once eerily chanted that none of woman born shall harm me.  This de-umbilicalized baked good was alarming and disconcerting.  On closer inspection, however, I determined that the dough had risen so much as to make the center hole disappear and resemble a small depression.  The bagel was crunchy with good flavor but a bit too chewy.

Gjusta

Gjusta is discreetly located, tucked in between Rose Ave. and Abbott Kinney Blvd. in the fashionable section of Venice.  It is a combination bakery, deli, market and café.  There is a large counter with all varieties of products on display that are made in the on-site bakery.  After ordering, guests can enjoy their meal in a lovely outdoor garden patio protected by shade trees.

Gjusta, being a full-service bakery, does not specialize in bagels and had only three varieties available.  I chose the bialy onion bagel.  The bialy differs from a bagel as it is not boiled before it is baked and therefore the crust is not crunchy.  The bialy onion bagel was covered with poppy seeds and had fresh onions shavings in the center depression (the bialy has a depression rather than a hole).  Due to the lack of crunch, the dental strength of a great white shark is required to tear off a piece.  Once that is accomplished, there is an excellent mildly chewy consistency and good flavor.

Brooklyn Bagel Bakery

The Brooklyn Bagel Bakery is located in Historic Filipinotown just west of downtown.  Despite the countless hours spent by my research team in the bowels of the L.A. Public Library, no connection between bagels and the Philippines could be discovered.  The BBB is a stalwart outlet for traditional New York bagels.  It is a classic-style bagel shop that was founded in 1953 by Seymour Friedman.  It is housed in a tiny storefront with a glass display case with over 20 varieties of bagels.  One can eat at a small counter that is attached to a wall covered with autographed photographs of famous Brooklyn and L.A. Dodgers, including Sandy Koufax, who, in addition to his three Cy Young awards and four no-hitters led the National League in bagel consumption six times. 

The BBB serves the quintessential traditional bagel of perfect size, shape, crunch and consistency.  The onion bagel was enveloped in fresh, soft onion bits and poppy seeds and was fluffy, chewy and flavorful. 

Courage Bagels

It was just a short drive from one peculiarly located bagel shop to another.   Courage Bagels is on Virgil St. in the hipster hangout of Silver Lake adjacent.  The shop was packed with an alt Bohemian crowd of twenty-somethings mixed with gray-haired Hollywood executive and creative types.  Clothed in my custom-made monogrammed dress shirt, gabardine slacks and Italian loafers, the clientele stared at me like I was a Martian.  One orders at a take-out window and can eat at a sidewalk table.

Courage sells the common half-dozen bagel types.  A handwritten menu taped on the inside of the window offered hand-sliced smoked salmon; who could resist a nostalgic trip to a long-lost Sunday with his grandfather.  I ordered an onion bagel with cream cheese and smoked salmon.  The dish was outstanding in every way.  The bagel had a light crunch, was slightly chewy and had excellent flavor.  The cream cheese was smooth, creamy, lightly sweet and slightly tangy.  The smoked salmon was smoky, faintly salty and had just the proper touch of fish flavor.

Hank’s

After venturing into some of the trendiest and voguish areas in the L.A. Basin, I crossed the Hollywood Hills through the Cahuenga Pass (I know, not quite Hannibal crossing the Alps) to return to the prosaic, the Valley, to Hank’s.   Hank’s is the Valley’s version of the classic bagel shop, in the same mode as Brooklyn Bagel Bakery.  It was highly recommended to me by the drummer of the greatest cover band of our era, Goldstein Party of Five.

Hank’s uses a unique process for their onion bagel.  Rather than covering the bagel with onion bits, the onions are mixed into the batter where they melt, giving the entire bagel a delicate onion flavor.  Poppy seeds are also mixed into the dough to add a little texture.  Hank’s bagel is outstanding with a crunchy crust, chewy but fluffy interior and great taste (but less filling).

My grandpa Jacob is buried in the Hillside Cemetery at the foot of the Al Jolson monument.  He lived 89 years on a diet of beef, French fries, deli food, soda and Wild Turkey.  No green vegetable ever passed by those lips.  I am proud to carry on his tradition.