But, I have to admit confusion when I looked at pretzel after pretzel recipe. I’ve been promising Alex for eons that one day, I would try my hand at them. That is, until they were discontinued for reasons undisclosed to us, if you can imagine that nerve. Curious if they would really taste like those street pretzels we both loved as kids (not as adults, you see, because these days, they’re morbidly dry and disappointing), we ordered a bag of six and, oh, they did! I’d top mine with a poached egg and a sprinkling Dijon vinaigrette and eat it for breakfast Alex would slather his with the spicy brown stuff, and while I could have gone without Fresh Direct deliveries for 99 percent of my grocery needs, these bretzels kept us coming back. Bretzel rolls came into our life in a par-baked frozen format from Fresh Direct, a really-not-bad-at-all grocery delivery service in New York City. This is Manhattan, people, there are no trees anywhere near this window.Īll pre-Halloween spookiness aside, let me go back a few steps further. Specks from the bathroom ceiling are on the floor, water dripped through the kitchen skylight as well, and the top of it, as if it were the most normal thing on earth, is crowded with leaves. I’m not kidding about that storm, though I could argue with some confidence that the world did actually tip upside down last night.
I know it rained cats, dogs and elephants last night but not in here, not in your zip-lock bag! This morning, you are damp, your exterior has shrunk a little and your salt particles wish to slide off your crust. Oh, my lovely bretzels! What happened to you? When we went to bed last night, you were the absolute height of bretzel perfection: round, dark, shiny, speckled with tiny cubes of sea salt and popping out from your plus signs, as if your goodness inside was just too much for you, also, to bear.
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