In the beginning... there were bagels.

You walk up Avenue du Parc, on a Friday night in the cold, drizzling air. Alone and wistful, you walk up, up, and up. The sky is dark. The atmosphere is not particularly pleasant, and you know you should be out and about with friends, with company, in a closed circle inside sharing stories like a family around the hearth. But no, you continue on your solitary walk for this destination signifies something much more, something intimate, something special.  You turn onto St Viateur, and open the door into the warmth. The bagel store greets you, smelling of yeast.

You buy a bagel. Perhaps you buy cream cheese. You might be a dipper or a spreader, as everyone is unique. Perhaps you don't bother with cream cheese and go for simplicity.  Maybe you get a couple more bagels to tide you over in the next week, the next day, the next hour. Maybe you just buy one, for the first one fresh out of the wood oven is always the best. However, the important thing is what comes next.

You bite in. And then you know.

You know love at first bite, the warmth of the dough, the structure of the crust, the tingle of sesame seeds on your tongue. You know this is a bagel that Shakespeare would write sonnets about, that James Joyce would encapsulate in a portrait of a bagel during first rise, that Columbus would sail an ocean across to discover, that Brahms would illustrate in an intermezzo. You also know that if you keep eating them as religiously, you will be able to form a bagel with your belly button before long. Yet this bagel eases the stress of your daily life, and soothes with gentle texture, and tender crumb. And you know that bagels are just part of what makes Montreal special. And that life has presented you with a multitude of opportunities, as there are so many different bagels to try.