Veggie Bagel of Sainted Memory
Once upon a time, I was a show-going fan of the Grateful Dead. My then-boyfriend was a Deadhead who introduced me to the music and the culture. We played “name that singer” listening to tapes on the way to the stadium. Was it a Bobby song? Jerry? Or a trick question–the rare Phil tune, and the thankfully even rarer tunes by whichever poor keyboard player hadn’t yet exploded?
One of my favorite parts of the scene, though, was the parking lot. Before and after the show, people tailgated, and sold wares from the back of their cars and trucks. Sure, there were drugs and alcohol around. I was more interested in the other stuff: T-shirts with beautiful designs and lyrics, bootleg tapes of classic shows, beaded jewelry (I once bought a lavender ankle bracelet with bells), and food.
Once, after a show at Buckeye Lake, we made our way through the parking lot. I was sweaty and thirsty from dancing; the shows lasted at least two hours. I was also very hungry, and thrilled when a girl in a swirly dress wandered by calling, “Bagels! Veggie bagels! Cruelty-free, love-filled bagels!” I remember that bagel as one of the best foodstuffs I’ve ever eaten. Whole wheat, with cream cheese, dill, cucumber, fresh tomato, salt and just a few thinly sliced red onions. It was heavenly.
I just tried to recreate the dish. I didn’t have tomatoes, and I skipped the red onion. It was tasty, but lacked a little something. Perhaps it was the joy and the camaraderie of the parking lot.
April 27th, 2009 at 11:23 pm
Well, you ae sending ME to the kitchen. This sounds delicious.