Belle’s Bagels

Last year, around this time, I had bagels on my mind. Remember this post? But then again, I have bagels on my mind every minute, of every hour, of every day. I mean, there’s this, that, and this, and that. Okay, for some reason, I’m feeling the need to prove how strong my love for bagels really is. Anyone who has ever been across a table from me, looking into my eyes when I put an everything bagel in my mouth knows–my eyes actually start sparkling and sometimes, little butterflies appear out of nowhere and land on my shoulders. 

Also, anyone who has spent more than 14 minutes with me has likely heard me go on a tear, on top of my teeny soap box, about how there are no great bagels in LA–let alone a place that even has okay bagels on the east side of this city. Well, a ray of light named Belle’s Bagels, has burst through my dark bagel-less clouds. And we can pretend for just a second that the company named was chosen in honor of my bitchy lady cat, Belle. 

JD Rocchio and Nick Schreiber take proud credit of this operation, one that is on the verge of so much more to come. Friends since they were in middle school, JD calls himself the administrative half of the duo, signing his emails with “CBO”, which I can only excitedly assume stands for “Chief Bagel Officer.” Nick is the maker and baker and was the first to agree with my gripes about a lack of access to great bagels in LA, with a level of passion that surpassed my own. 

Starting out last year, these guys were at the helm of an Underground Bagel Brunch that popped up in an article in the LAist and almost exactly a year later, they are closer to being behind the counter of their own retail space. Currently, they are sharing both oven and selling space with La Perla Bakery in Highland Park and are baking four days a week in the temporary storefront, fulfilling pre-orders made on their website. Oh, and originally I hoped to show some photos of the rolling and baking process but due to a catering order that Sunday causing an earlier start for Nick, I would have had to be at the bakery at 2 am and that was just ungodly, even for this early bird.

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A TINY HOUSE IN OMAHA

I still haven’t told you guys about all the beautiful things I saw on my road trip this past summer. That being said, I’ve also spared you detailed stories of all the times since the road trip that life was rude and I became fused with the couch and proceeded to watch Vince Gill singing at George Jones’ funeral over and over on my iPad (if you EVER need a good cry, my lord, that clip.) 

One of these days, I’m simply going to use this blog as an outlet in which I solely write in detail about my feelings and dramatic sensitivities. The blog will either go insanely viral or be blocked by corporate servers all over the country. Okay, ANYWAY, I must tell you about Omaha. Three major things–humidity, steak, tiny house. Enough humidity to prevent eyeglasses to be worn effectively outdoors, the best steak I’ve have ever had in my life (hi, Drover Restaurant, I love you more than anything!), and Jamie Hiner’s tiny house.

Sincerely, this night was one of the most unique and special experiences. Now, look at this perfect picture and then click to read more in order to really understand what in the world I’m even talking about and what a tiny house even means.

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TAQUERIA LOS ANAYA

I rarely ever go to the Westside of Los Angeles. It isn’t on principle or because I’m a self-righteous Eastsider (well, maybe a little)–it’s due to the fact that during the week, it’s impossible to get over there with my schedule and then on the weekend, it simply never occurs to me to drive more than 2 miles past my couch. Well, a Saturday or two ago, it occurred to me and I paused my obsessive re-watching of Breaking Bad (Giancarlo Esposito is a god damn genius) to start checking off my other-side-of-town restaurant wish list. First up, of many, was Taqueria Los Anaya. 

It goes without saying that Los Angeles is full of notable and authentic Mexican restaurants but I need to tell you that Taqueria Los Anaya wrote its name in sharpie on my list for a completely unexpected dish. I had read about their wonderful homemade tortillas and carne asada and that is what my intention mainly consisted of but I was completely side-swiped by the the Roasted Tortilla Soup. I will give the tacos attention also later but this soup deserves to be above the jump. That way, you are forced to stare at it and its seductive steam then will have no choice but to click and read more. I’ll also get one of two gripes out of the way before you click through–when you order chips and salsa, pico de gallo does NOT count! I’m done. Click through.

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