But lo and behold, it was one of those food fights that emerge from time to time from the muck of online comments, usually mild, but sometimes not. (See the virtual fights that broke out over such essential questions as “Does pineapple belong on pizza?” and “How to slice a sandwich?”) And Ina, whose wise advice faithfully guided us for so long, was improbably at its center.
The flap involved a resurfaced moment from a 2012 episode of her long-running Food Network show in which she prepared a picnic for her and her husband, Jeffrey, to eat during a trip to Brooklyn, where they were planning to visit his childhood home. (Fans will recognize this as a typically charming and slightly thematic show setup.) For the smoked salmon and herbed cream cheese bagel sandwiches that were the centerpiece of the meal, Ina does something unconventional. “I do it with a special touch,” she says. “Instead of having a big, thick bagel, I like to cut it into thirds. So instead, you have a nice little sandwich. I think it tastes better.
Basically, the technique involves cutting the bagel horizontally in half to get three rounds instead of the usual two. This means that two bagels yield six slices, which are used to make three sandwiches (math!). The beauty of this is that it means that each of the resulting sandwiches contains much less of that doughy middle, which is sometimes a turn-off for people (like me!) who prefer a lower bread-to-filling ratio than bagel sandwiches offer. traditional.
But this is where many people misunderstood what Our Lady of the Denim Shirt was telling us to do: the initial message on which seemed to spark the controversy simply showed a photo of the triple-decker bagel (after cutting it but before making it into a sandwich), leading people to falsely assume that she was making a triple-decker bagel sandwich, using the kind of layering which defines a Big Mac or a club. This, I agree, does not seem like a good idea. And that might explain why some people were dismayed. “‘I like to turn my bagels into two bagel chips and a bulky piece of toast,’ the famous TV chef said,” one responded. “This is why we really created Cancel Culture!
“Anything can become a Big Mac if you want it bad enough,” wrote another. “Ina has dabbled in sauce again,” concluded one skeptic, referencing the TV chef’s hilarious pandemic-era video in which she prepared a huge pitcher of Cosmos.
Yet some people who misunderstood the instructions actually liked the multi-layered concoction (or at least the idea), with several praising it for allowing maximum adhesion to the cream cheese. “Two layers of schmear. She’s a visionary,” one fan wrote.
Others simply objected to the idea of tinkering with what they consider perfection. “As a Jewish New Yorker, this is a crime against me and my people,” one wrote.
The Food Network even got in on the fake troversy by posting a video of the full clip on TikTok. “If you think you know where this is going, you don’t,” one caption read. “We vote for a three-decker bagel next!!” » enthused later.
I tried to replicate Ina’s bagel-cutting innovation – the right way. First I made her herbed cream spread, verdant with dill, parsley and green onions, then I embarked on the real challenge: bagel butchery. I used a long, serrated bread knife, just like her, and did my best to imitate her technique of pressing the bagel into place with the palm of my left hand while I cut it with my right. A trick I’ve found is to make your first cut as thin as possible to give you the best chance of creating three roughly similar sized discs.
Out of curiosity, I weighed the bagel slices. A whole one (mine were from the excellent Bullfrog Bagels) weighed about 4.5 ounces. I found that my center slices measured just over an ounce, meaning I could reduce the volume by just under a third – a godsend in my mind.
I put the center slices aside and made a nice sandwich with a generous layer of filling and tried it. Ina’s version offered the best bits of a bagel sandwich — that is, the bite of soft exterior — with just the right amount of chewy interior. I found that I was able to eat an entire sandwich, which is usually not the case.
And this is where I might differ (just a little bit) from Ina’s Book. I thought the sandwich made with the middle disc was inferior both visually and texturally because it lacked the brown, shiny exterior. Maybe I’ll freeze it for breadcrumbs – or to forget about it altogether, which is more likely.
As I finished my lunch, I felt order had been restored to my galaxy. Up is not down. Black is not white. And Ina is always right. Always.
