This morning I could not get out of bed. I felt like I was falling, I was being pushed down so hard into my mattress—gravity was way more on its game than I was. But Tom knew what to do: “If you drive me to work, we can stop on the way and I’ll buy you a bialy.” Where are my pants?!
What is it that’s so special about the bialy? It’s not just a flat bagel with onion stuffed in the hole. It’s stretchy and chewy and airy, like focaccia, and come on, onion and poppy seed? Oops, my European heritage is showing.
I keep meaning to make this at home, but every recipe I’ve read mentions that they’re only good when they’re really fresh. I’ve only gotten them in the morning, and obviously, they don’t lay around too long. Maybe I could shape them and store them in the freezer, baking only what I need when I need it.
And as for coffee with onion, I take it as a sign I’ve finally grown up. Coffee alongside hot peppers, onion, and other savory treats feels so damn adult. Coffee and cake is easy; only a mature coffee drinker can handle such a pairing. Either that or I’m just an addict and I’ll drink coffee with anything. i thank you in advance for your withholding judgment.