The following is a reprint of a previously published post. Enjoy!
I can’t believe I’m having to write this letter. Where once we were inseparable, we’ve grown distant, apart, without the love that once defined us.
I suppose I should start from the beginning. The very beginning.
When I was a little girl you were deceptively simple. A dusting of poppy or sesame seeds adorned your warm rounded top. Portland had no bagel shops, so my east coast Jewish father would bake you himself. It was an all day endeavor, but worth every minute. Your yeasty scent would seep through the entire house, permeating our skin and relaxing our souls. Ahh . . . .
Fast forward 35 years, and your presence is now known throughout the nation. From convenience stores to upscale bakeries, you’ve snuck into our daily lives. No longer a rare treat, no longer a special event. But you were still special to me.
And sesame and poppy seeds were your only embellishment. Like Baskin-Robbins, your flavors are now endless.
I took all these changes in stride. I know that a relationship that cannot evolve is essentially doomed. But then you blind-sided me with changes that have ripped us apart and stomped my already fragile heart.
I all started last week when my dear sister brought over two bags of day-old bagels. This should not have been disastrous, yet it was. Disastrous, offensive and downright jarring to the soul.
Why so awful?
Two words — Pepper. Bagels.
Huge chunks of whole peppers dotted your innards, making each bite like a challenge on a reality TV show. And I knew then and there that our love affair was over. No longer could I have faith or trust in you. No longer could I offer you my unconditional love.
You know how I abhor food waste, which makes this situation that much more heartbreaking. You are garbage to me, not even good enough for bread crumbs or croutons.
Please do not attempt to contact me. I have said my piece and wish to spend some time reevaluating my tastes.
Forever yours, sincerely,
“Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without.”
P.S. I saw you out with that shmear of a tart the other night, I hope you both burn in toaster!