Dallas' Bagel Revolution Is About More Than Just Bagels

East Dallas, for all of its appeal, is hardly a hotbed of East Coast culture. So, why, suddenly, are there five bagel shops — each claiming to be part of some sort of mystical, holy grail of New York City bagel-ness — all within a 10- or 15-minute radius? And this doesn’t include the assortment of supermarkets, chains, semi-chains and faux delis that also sell bagels.

The answer, maybe not surprisingly, probably doesn’t have much to do with bagels. Or even with how bagel-y any of these bagels are.

The first thing to understand about the influx of bagels in Dallas since the pandemic is that for the past three decades it was almost impossible to buy a real bagel in Dallas. Yes, some places sold bagels, but the experience can best be summed up by the time I found a Band-Aid in one that came from a very popular place that used to be on Lovers Lane. Best yet, the owner was livid when it was brought to his attention, Band-Aid, bagel and all.

The bagel situation was so dire that former Observer columnist Robert Wilonsky mounted a years-long campaign to convince Houston deli Kenny & Ziggy’s to open a store in Dallas. Which almost happened in 2010.

Since then, being as polite as possible, lots of bagels were sold, but most had as much to do with bagels as 7UP does with French Champagne. Some were as squishy as Wonder Bread; others were as tough and thick as stale cornbread. Yes, some were palatable, but palatable is not H&H. Or Chicago Bagel & Bialy, the bagel of my youth.
A quick word here about bagel quality: Anyone can eat anything they want and call it a bagel. Rather, the discussion about quality applies to any shop that talks about boiling, specialty flour and malt powder and features New York City-ish marketing. This includes newcomers like Shug’s, Abby’s, Lubbies, Starship, and Sclafani's, which all try to sound as if they started on Manhattan’s Upper West Side across the street from Barney Greengrass.

So, for them, my credentials: I’ve eaten bagels all my life, including in New York and Montreal. I’ve baked bagels at home because there was no other way to get anything approaching the real thing in Dallas. And I’ve written about bagels (as well as the restaurant business).

Which brings us back to the point of this story: Why are there suddenly so many places that claim to be ekht — the genuine real thing? And no, it’s not because Dallas, for some reason, demanded to become the center of a bagel universe.

Instead, it has much to do with how the restaurant business works these days, says Leslie Brenner, a restaurant consultant and former restaurant critic for The Dallas Morning News.

First, she says, the barrier to entry is low: a bagel shop doesn’t cost as much to open and run as a traditional restaurant or even an artisan bakery. The ingredients are comparatively inexpensive, rents are lower, the margins are comparatively high and there’s no need to keep expensive inventory like beef or fresh fish.

Second, bagels have been enjoying a national resurgence for the past several years, so what's happening here isn’t unique. Bagels in Jackson, Mississippi, anyone? Brenner credits Lenore’s, the delivery-only shop that opened in 2020, with ushering in Dallas’ bagel zeitgeist.

Third, the allure of franchising. Why can’t my bagel shop become the next Smashburger?

Finally, most important, the bagel boom is about lifestyles and demographics. Many of these new shops are located in some of Dallas’ most urban and youthful areas: Lower Greenville, near SMU, near White Rock Lake. And there are not many gray-haired Bubbies and Zaydes waiting in line. It’s college students and 20-somethings who live close enough to walk to them with their dogs on leashes. It’s about as far from the traditional idea of bagels as possible.

This is why, in the end, the quality of these bagels doesn’t matter all that much. Because, in my experience, the quality is annoyingly inconsistent. Bagels should have holes, yes? And bagels aren’t supposed to be as round as softballs. But these customers aren’t searching for the bagels of my youth or those of Wilonsky’s crusade; they’re looking for something near where they live that doesn’t cost a lot and offers a pleasant experience. Their parents had Starbucks; they have bagel shops. More power to them.