Another Bitter Battle of the Better Bayside Bagel

I was late for class today, and decided to eat brunch on campus, between classes. I debated my options, and then realized with horror that it had been months – months! – since I had eaten a legendary BYU Bookstore Bayside Bagel. I quickly sought to remedy the situation.

You know when you’re shopping, and you’re hungry, and all of a sudden, you have to buy everything in the store? I left the bookstore with 3 bagels (because I had to do a taste test of all three, right?) and I was proud of myself for not buying every single flavor I had seen.

And so the test began. I started with the 9 Grain. It was good. I smiled.

And then I moved on to the Pizza Bagel. It was fantastic. I smiled. My stomach also smiled.

And then, because this was both breakfast and lunch, I decided that I would go ahead and eat the third bagel: Spinach Parmesan. And it was life-changing. I smiled. My stomach sang. My taste buds danced a merengue in my mouth. It was like I had just been hit in the face with a delivery truck full of flavor. Somehow, this bagel was better than spinach or Parmesan have ever been on their own. I feel like I just ate an entire loaf of bread – and I regret nothing.

Dear reader, I don’t know who you are – but I do know that when it comes to breakfast, you wish you were me right now. ♥

An Award-Winning Hot Dog

I just ate the Messiest Hot Dog of the Month. (thus far. I hope.) And it was delicious.

I forgot to take a picture of the glory. This was the closest I could find.

I’m coming down with a cold, so I said to God last night, “God, what am I supposed to do about this?”

And God said, “You need to take care of yourself, young woman.”

And I accused God of siding with my mother. And then I determined to skip History of Argentina in favor of sleep. And then I slept until nearly noon. It was glorious. God was right. (Probably Mom, too.)

Anyways, I did eventually get dressed and head off to African American History, and then realized I hadn’t packed a dinner. That shouldn’t be a problem; I’ll likely get free pizza on break tonight at work. My rumbling tummy reminded me that it would be another 4 hours until said pizza occurred. So I stopped at the BYU bookstore for a bagel.

The bagels were gone. I retraced my steps to the food court (where they stash a backup supply of bagels). All the good kinds were gone there, too. So I went to buy a donut. The line was too long. So I headed back for the bookstore. Changed my mind. Went back for the donut. Waited in line about 30 seconds. Changed my mind again. Went back to the bookstore.

And that’s when I saw the hot dogs. Oh, glorious day, there were hot dogs! I have this weird tendency – when I’m sick – to crave hot dogs. But I only crave them when I’m starting to get better. So I took the hot dogs as a good omen, and promptly bought one. I put ketchup and mustard on it. And hot sauce. And then sauerkraut, and a pickle, and some chopped tomatoes. That hot dog was like a taco salad. I had to clean off my hands in the snow when I was done… and then clean off my face with my hands… and then clean off my hands again. My entire jaw may be tainted orange with mustard. But I regret nothing. That hot dog tasted like happiness. Yum. ◊

The Better Bayside Bagel Battle Begins!

Okay, folks. I’ve just hit existential crisis.

Remember that one time when I was super excited about that fluffy little pizza bagel? (See here.) Well, I was. And now I have a problem. Because the pizza bagel has a new contender in the ring.

It’s a spinach parmesan. And so far, my esteemed colleague and I have determined that the spinach bagel is far lighter and healthier-tasting (although probably not really healthy in any way) than the pizza bagel. If you want a heavy, sumptuous, Italian-style kick-in-the-face kind of flavor, the pizza bagel definitely wins. But if you’re looking for a lighter flavor, the spinach bagel is where you want to go.

Now comes the problem: I can’t decide which one is better. It’s like comparing pesto sauce to meat sauce. They’re both delicious. For entirely different reasons. What am I supposed to do? Does this mean I have to change my whole measuring system for foodstuffs? Can there be a “best bagel”? Or am I doomed now to wander the earth, forever wondering whether there really can be a best in anything anymore? Has this bagel been sent from above just to rock my paradigms and remind me to be less judgmental of innocent carbohydrates? I may never know….

 

The Better Bayside Bagel

Oh, heavens, people. I have found pleasure incarnate.

Its name is Bagel. Bayside Bagel. And if you want to get technical, its middle name is Pizza.

Are you sold? Because you should be. But just in case you aren’t convinced yet, let me tell you that this bagel is like taking a bite out of a cloud. A cloud that tastes like happiness, Italian spices, and cheese. And if you add cream cheese to this golden treasure, it just about knocks you over with the power of goodness. This is the kind of bagel that shapes lives. A suicidal man would eat this bagel and find new purpose in life. An atheist would take one bite, rise to his feet, and exclaim, “There is a God, and he loves me!” And that bayside pizza bagel would provide the irrefutable proof.

Yes, World. God loves you. And that is why we have taste buds. If you are anywhere near Provo, Utah – please, for the love of all that is holy – get yourself to the BYU bookstore and buy yourself a bagel. Lives will be changed. ◊