I will frequently wax rhapsodic about breakfast at the Local Bagel and Smoked Fish Emporium - our daily post-minyan ritual. [“Our,” in this context, refers to the Minyan Boyz, AKA the Roswell Road Irregulars.] And in these Poetic Flights o’ Fancy, I will frequently talk about the variety of breadstuffs available at said Emporium. Bagels. Bialys. That sort of thing.
Apparently, all this caught the attention of a young lady, a native of Middle Georgia, who had somehow developed a serious Bialy Jones as a result of a New York sojourn. For years this young lady lived in downtown Atlanta, miserable and unfulfilled, unable to find a local source of bialys.
Elisson to the rescue.
I got the e-mail the other day, after said young lady discovered my Bialy-Laden Posts through diligent websurfing. Could I help her locate a source of bialys in Atlanta?
Of course I could.
And that is how Ms. Jessica Pierce showed up at Bagelicious this morning, where I treated her to a sack of nice warm bialys. [Since Jessica uses her “street name” on her blog, I figured she wouldn’t mind my using it here.]
Anyone who is
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