Bagels have always been a big part of my life. We’d order in bagels to break the fast after the High Holy Days and pick up bags of cheap day-end bagels every time we went to visit family on Long Island.
But bagels weren’t just food. Growing up, “bageling” was the term we used to describe the process by which we determined whether someone new to our lives was Jewish, which we’d do by asking vague questions or talking about our own experiences with Judaism in the hopes that they’d reciprocate.
When I moved to Los Angeles from Connecticut in 2015, after a few terrible bagel experiences, I began to accept the fact that there were no such perfect bagels in L.A. I moved to the Cleveland area in 2019 and was shortly thereafter called to reckon with the fact that I would be hard-pressed to find a perfect bagel here, too. The closest thing I’ve found is the Cleveland Bagel, which is a unique, croissant-like take where the dough is rolled onto itself, resulting in sharp corners and overly-doughy folds.
Thus, my search for the perfect bagel became reinvigorated.
In early December of this past year, I went on a press trip to Midtown Manhattan — a nine-hour bus ride each way for a mere 48 hours in a hotel just outside of Times Square. My hotel was just a 17-minute walk from the famous Ess-a-Bagel, so I dragged my co-editor along for the cold, windy walk to stand in line for nearly an hour while those around us fought one another for table space and those behind the counter called out orders.
Prior to going in — even prior to boarding the bus to New York — I knew what I wanted: an everything bagel with egg and cheese. I waffled back and forth when I got closer to the front of the line, though, and saw an array of flavored cream cheeses and oversized bagels of varying flavors, textures, and colors. But I knew what I wanted.
I placed my order for an everything bagel with egg and cheese, lightly toasted, and picked up a container of kichel — a bow-tie-shaped, sugar-encrusted cookie — for the ride home. My co-editor and I paid for our orders and walked out in our separate directions after saying our goodbyes. I unwrapped the bagel carefully and removed the bottom half, keeping it partially wrapped in the inner layer of wax paper. I devoured the entire first half on that street corner, and the second half on the walk back to my hotel. The egg was pan-fried and folded over onto itself, like an omelet, with a slice of gooey American cheese on either side of the egg. The bagel itself was slightly crispy on either side, slightly chewy in the middle, and porous and airy throughout. The exterior layer at the top was almost flaky and made a satisfying crunch when I bit into it.
For the past few months since I’ve thought about that early December bagel many times. It’s become an obsession, a tireless search to turn a Cleveland Bagel or even a grocery store bagel into that which I found at Ess-a-Bagel. But it’s never come close.
For that reason, I’ve embarked on a journey to create my own bagels from scratch. I’ve asked my friends and family members whether any of them have experience with making bagels from scratch, and I plan to let their expertise — as well as those on the internet — guide me in my endeavor.
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I interviewed my friend and housemate Jory Teltser, who shares my love for bagels.
“Bagels have been an integral part of my life growing up. At every family function and for breakfast on Sunday mornings,” he said. “When I was in Kindergarten, I went to a bagel factory in New York and it absolutely changed my life. I saw these vast conveyor belts of bagels moving in all directions.”
His go-to bagel order nowadays is an everything bagel, lightly-toasted with butter, lox, whitefish, swiss cheese, lettuce, and red onion.
“Judaism, for me, is bagels. And bagels are Judaism,” Jory said. “The two concepts are not separated in my mind in any way.”
I’ve always known that bagels were an inherently Jewish phenomenon, but I’ve never known why. So, to start my research, I looked into the origins of the beloved bread product.
Bagels originated in southern Germany, with the word “bagel” meaning “bracelet” in German. They were sold by street vendors and came to symbolize the circle of life due to their circular shape.
When Jewish people began to migrate from Eastern Europe to central and Western Europe, Canada, and the Americas, bagels found prominence in the Lower East Side of Manhattan and East London, where they were sold via pushcarts. From there, bagels became varied in toppings, size, and shape.
According to an article published in Smithsonian Magazine, bagels remained in niche Jewish markets until the 1970s, when Lender’s Bagels began advertising the product as a “Jewish English muffin.” Lender’s was then bought by Kraft Foods, which began producing frozen bagels and distributing them across various supermarkets.
This further encouraged bagels’ rise to multicultural prominence but also diluted both their Jewish cultural significance and their quality.
According to an article published by Slate, a bagel is not a “bagel” unless it contains barley malt syrup and is boiled before being baked.
However, one may be hard-pressed to find barley malt syrup in an average supermarket — I personally encountered this challenge while searching for ingredients for my bagel-making experiment.
According to The Donut Whole, a variety of substitutes are completely acceptable, including golden syrup, maple syrup, molasses, and honey. Many barley malt syrup experts seemed to recommend molasses for its similar taste, consistency, and color to barley malt syrup.
I purchased a jar of Grandmother’s Molasses, King Arthur Bread Flour, and a carton of eggs, relying on my pantry’s stock to provide the rest of the necessary ingredients.
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After months of research, I began my bagel-making experiment.
In all, the process took about five hours — though perhaps it would have taken less time if I was a more practiced bagel-maker, as the recipe I chose claimed it would take only two hours and 32 minutes.
The first step of the instructions called for water heated to precisely 110 degrees Fahrenheit, which was immediately alarming as I did not have a thermometer. I guessed at the temperature (admittedly, comparing it to hot tubs I’d been in) and whisked in the sugar and the yeast (see fig. to the left). I let it sit for five minutes, as the recipe instructed.
However, when the next instruction called for a “large mixing bowl,” I quickly realized that I had just used my only large mixing bowl for the yeast-sugar-water mixture. In my haste to find some way to combine the flour and salt before adding the wet ingredients, I must have missed the call for molasses — a mistake I wouldn’t realize until after the bagels were already formed.
I also didn’t have a stand mixer, so I kneaded the dough by hand, which probably added a few minutes to the prep time but wasn’t too intensive and was actually kind of therapeutic.
“Although the recipe directions call for using a stand mixer with a dough hook, which is my preferred method, you CAN knead by hand,” the recipe reads. “If you have some extra tension or need some exercise, that’s a great way to get it.”
As a graduating college senior, this was the perfect piece of advice.
After kneading the dough, it was ready to rise! I transferred it back into my large mixing bowl and set it in my warming drawer under a kitchen towel.
The recipe instructed that I should let it rise for 60–90 minutes, but I took a quick recess for a trip to the gym (where I sat in the sauna) and ended up leaving the dough to rise for about three hours, instead.
My easily-distracted nature ended up working out in my favor: The dough expanded to about two and a half times its original size, which increased the yield from the suggested eight to ten.
I then punched down the dough — again, very cathartic — and began to make bagels. That’s when I realized my earlier molasses omission and decided to drizzle the bagels in molasses and work it into the dough (see pre-molasses bagels to the right).
I decided to cover the bagels and let them rise again in the warming drawer for a few minutes, figuring this batch was already a failed test run and I might as well get experimental with my methods.
While they were rising, I made some of the more complicated seasoning mixtures. I then heated water with honey, as per the recipe, and boiled the bagels three at a time for a minute on each side. It reminded me of making drop dumplings for soup, which I used to do frequently with my mom growing up.
I laid out the dumpling-bagels on a baking sheet and egg brushed them — though I didn’t have a pastry brush, so it was more like egg wash dipping. I then added my seasonings.
I thought about how making my own bagels made the process so much more customizable. Not only could I put any kind of schmear on the finished product, but I could also have any flavor of bagel imaginable. I thought about flavor combinations that I’d always wished I had seen on bagels in a store.
The first was an earl grey tea-washed bagel topped with lavender, orange zest, sea salt, and black pepper. I then made a French onion soup bagel using Lipton’s French onion soup mix, French-fried onions, and applewood-smoked gouda; a smoked gouda bagel; an everything bagel using the typical combination of seasonings; black garlic and black truffle; sea salt, caraway seed, parsley; crispy onion; cinnamon sugar; chai spice, orange zest, and blueberry; and a black-and-white bagel — white chocolate chips on one half, semi-sweet chocolate chips on the other.
I put them in the oven for 25 minutes and cooled half on a wire rack, the other half on a plate.
I was most excited to try the French onion soup bagel, so I ate that one first (see extremely blurry picture right, taken in a hurry to document the air bubbles between bites).
I can honestly (and humbly?) say that it was the best bagel I’ve ever eaten. The texture was crispy on the outside, airy and light on the inside, and the smoked gouda added a gooey layer. The crispy onions added a nice crunch, as well. The best part, though, was the French onion soup flavor in every bite. I made my housemates try it and they concurred — it tasted just like French onion soup in the best way possible.
Despite all of the mishaps throughout the process, my bagel-making experiment turned out to be a success. I would definitely make bagels again, and I already have ideas for additional flavors.
Bibliography
Anderson, L.V. “How to Make Decent Bagels Even If You Don’t Live in New York.” Slate
Magazine. Slate, April 24, 2014.
https://slate.com/culture/2014/04/authentic-bagel-recipe-you-need-barley-malt-syrup-and-boiling-water.html.
Fiegl, Amanda. “A Brief History of the Bagel.” Smithsonian.com. Smithsonian Institution,
December 17, 2008.
https://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/a-brief-history-of-the-bagel-49555497/.
“Homemade Bagels (New York Style).” Hug For Your Belly, October 8, 2019.
https://www.hugforyourbelly.com/homemade-bagels/.
Ohio City Location (Westside),” The Cleveland Bagel Company, accessed February 23, 2023,
http://clebagelco.com/.
Roden, Claudia. “How the Bagel Became the Most Famous Jewish Food.” My Jewish Learning,
January 14, 2022. https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/the-bagel/.
Saurabh. “10 Best Barley Malt Syrup Substitutes.” Substitute Cooking, May 7, 2022.
https://substitutecooking.com/barley-malt-syrup-substitutes/.
“What Can I Use Instead of Malt Syrup for Bagels?” The Donut Whole, March 11, 2023.
https://www.thedonutwhole.com/what-can-i-use-instead-of-malt-syrup-for-bagels/.
Alexa Stevens is an Oberlin College fourth-year student who loves food — especially breakfast food — and journalism — especially when it’s about food. Alexa’s non-food writing has been featured in Teen Vogue, Kidzworld, The Oberlin Review, The Easy Reader, and more.
