The Murray

Just after the start of the new year, The Butty took a trip across the pond to visit the shining beacon of sandwich goodness that is New York City. And got a bit fat. Amongst the world-famous delis of Katz and Carnegie, the city plays host to more mouthwatering uses of bread and filling than you could fit into a month of lunches, never mind the few days of this visit. That said, one of the holiday’s finest was actually served up at breakfast, rather than midday, and came from the bagel joint round the corner from the hotel – Murray’s. 

A dozen of the finest - six plain, six onion.

Murray’s Bagels is/are amazing, whether you’re talking about the bakery or its produce. While the ordering process is classic NYC (don’t even think about going near the counter unless you can rattle off your order in under 3 seconds) they make even the best London Bagels look like anaemic pretzels. The dough has a glorious, glossy sheen and the interior has a smattering of bubbles and a lovely, slightly chewy texture. They’re also enormous, as you’d expect for a city famed for growing upwards, not out – the height and girth of them is enough when they’re empty, but when stacked with fillings, they’re utterly formidable.

Having fallen utterly in love, and based on the fact that transatlantic delivery is normally a ridiculous proposition, a dozen stowaways were hustled back into the UK via hold baggage, and frozen, ready to create today’s homage to the West Village.


This bagel’s based on a classic recipe – cream cheese and salmon. In addition to heaps of both (the top and bottom slices are smothered with a thick, thick layer of Philly), there’s some chopped capers along with dill, lemon juice and thinly sliced red onion and tomato. A little salt and pepper completes things, with the final sandwich sitting at about 4″ from top to bottom – as the footlong hotdog has proven, the imperial system hoses all over metric measurements when it comes to showing off with food. 

So there you go – when in NYC, go get a bagel at Murray’s in the West Village. But remember, order fast, loosen your belt, and be sure to get another dozen for when you’re back in the country that bagels forgot.



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