Not Even

Californians do not know how to make bagels. It’s strictly a New York talent. Unless you’re a transplanted New York bagel baker in California, you will never know what a real bagel tastes like.

It’s all in the method. You must boil the dough first. It’s what gives the bagel its shiny, chewy exterior. Steaming them won’t do it, neither will brushing the tops with egg wash.

Bagels in California omit the boiling method so you end up with bready bagels that taste more like unsweetened donuts than genuine bagels.  FullSizeRender (21)

Speaking of which, bakeries are now fond of producing chocolate chip, cranberry and walnut, and other sweetened varieties of bagels for the undiscerning public. That’s unheard of in the real bagel world. It’s garlic, onion, poppy-seed, and pumpernickel in the genuine bagel environment.

I’ve noticed that most food stores are now making their own bagels. Don’t even. They’re terrible. So are the kind in those big warehouse food stores. Don’t waste your money.

I even tried importing a dozen bagels from my favorite New York shop except I couldn’t bring myself to pay $50 for the indulgence. It was the shipping costs that killed me.

I’m still on the lookout for a Jewish baker who is quietly boiling his bagels and doing all the right things to bring pleasure to his customers. I haven’t found him yet, but I know he exists somewhere in this vast state of mine.

Calvin says, “You’re dreaming. It’s like me hoping for brisket in my food dish.”

beagle

 

 

Gone

Our mattress had become lumpy and bumpy over the years, much like us, so Alf and I bought a new one. I refused to empty our savings for the thing so we settled on the best at the lowest price possible. Even then it was outrageous. Some countries’ GNP is lower than what we paid for it.

After two weeks in it was clear it wasn’t working. Our bones were hurting and we felt we had aged ten years. So off to store we went and bought a better and more expensive mattress to our chagrin and to the salesgirl’s delight. We arranged to have the “old” one picked up the same day.  fullsizerender-10

The truck rolled up that evening, two burly men climbed out and in a blink, the mattress and foundation had disappeared from the bedroom, leaving just the metal frame on the floor as evidence.

Next thing I hear was, “Thank you, ‘bye,” from one of the guys.

“Hey, wait a minute, where’s the new mattress?” I said waving him down from the truck.

The two men jumped down and fished through their paperwork with a flashlight.

“No new mattress on this order,” one of them said.

“You mean you’re driving off leaving us with no bed?” I said with hands on my hips.

“Do you have a place to sleep?” the talkative one said.

“Yes, but that’s not the point,” I said. My irritation was spilling out of my vocal cords by the second.

The man called the warehouse, got someone on a swing shift, mumbled something  into the phone and said, “Your delivery is scheduled for Tuesday.” This was Sunday night.

“I can’t believe this!” I said.

I peered into the back of the truck. Nothing in there that resembled our new mattress.

“Off with you, then,” I said.

The next day I called the store and discovered the salesgirl had messed up, that everything should have been delivered on the same day, but did she take any responsibility? Nope.

Where have all the manners gone?

Calvin says, “They left at the turn of the century, along with all the rich foods.”  beagle

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m a Material Girl

It’s countdown to Christmas. Yes, I’m using the word Christmas.

The stores are twinkling with lights.

The bell ringers are waving. Ringing is against the law now.

That was one of the sounds of Christmas that just departed. photo(161)

The beggars are begging, the singers are singing, and the fiddlers are fiddling.

I wonder what they’ll outlaw next.

But the shoppers aren’t shopping. They’re just looking. And buying online.

That’s what I did this year.

It made it so much simpler. But boring.

I go into overdrive when pushing into a mob of women to get to the cosmetic counter.  Or ripping a pair of shoes out of another woman’s hands and buying them. The word glee comes to mind.

Let’s not forget the parking lot assaults for a parking space. That’s all out war.

And the juggling of bags, boxes and purses draped from your arms and shoulders that make you look like a shopping cart without wheels.

It’s the sights and sounds of Christmas.

It’s the festive delights of materialism.

Don’t go shopping without it.

Calvin says, “Christmas shopping. Just the thought makes me want to snarl my teeth and bite a Santa leg.” beagle

A Soul For Sale

A dialogue between two women in a restaurant. The tables were so close I couldn’t help eavesdrop.

“Someone’s selling her soul on eBay.”

“Does she have a good rating?”

“Yea, people are bidding.”

“What format is it in?”

“She just got out of a coma.”

“Is that with free shipping?”

“She’s crying for help.”

“Does eBay allow therapy?”

“All those gurus. There would be a bidding war.”

“Can you reach her by email?”

“I think so.”

“Write this poor soul before the bidding closes.”

Calvin says, “Hey, that’s an idea. Instead of donating my nose to science when I die, I’ll sell it on eBay. The bidding wars would skyrocket.”