
Au revoir, non cheri.
OK, let me get this straight. Certain Brooklyn foodies’ heart rates are climbing because tomorrow morning they’ll be able to wake up in the borough chosen by Yahweh as the spiritual home of the bagel, hot-foot it to Boerum Hill and buy one freshly imported across international lines, from a country where Tim Horton is a culinary icon? And for this they’re going to lay down a schmear-melting $2.50US a pop?
More specifically, for those who’ve tuned out the bloggery, they’ll be able to go to Mile End on Hoyt Street and walk out with a bagel express delivered overnight by car from the St-Viateur bagel bakery in Montreal.
There are so many things wrong with this scenario that the mind reels trying to count them. (And I’m not even counting the possibility that someone might ask for an everything bagel using the words tout garni.) Suffice it to say that at Brokelyn, it’s an egregious enough assault on our most cherished values that you might as well just shoot us right now. Or worse, make us move to Queens.
So we’ll just point out this. Well before dawn cracks tomorrow, at an hour when Mile End’s couriers may still be dodging moose on the Canadian interstate, Brooklyn native and Bagel Hole owner Phil Romanzi will wake up in his Brooklyn home, head to his shop on Seventh Avenue in South Park Slope, rev up his ovens and begin turning out malty, crusty bagels of peerless quality, Brooklyn-style. From his hearth to your mouth in minutes. Eighty cents apiece, $1.35 with butter. As our Canadian friends might say, Bon appetit.

The Bagel Hole, where you can find The Brokavore on most weekend mornings. (But that's not him.) Photo by Jil Harrison.



