A loss that leaves a bagel-sized hole on the Upper West Side of Manhattan

Why I’m mourning the closing of Absolute Bagels

Absolute Bagels four days after its closing. Photo by Nora Sissenich

By Nora Sissenich December 16, 2024

Any loyal Upper West Side or Morningside Heights resident knows: There was no place like Absolute Bagels.

The compact, family-run establishment was a mainstay throughout my childhood. When I was little, my father would take me there on Saturday mornings (or for a post-playground snack). As we waited in the long outside-the-door lines, I’d marvel at the industrial-size ovens and case of cream cheeses — scallion, cinnamon, blueberry, strawberry, olive. I’d get a mini-bagel, a boxed orange juice, and a mini-muffin while turning my nose up at my father’s pumpernickel order.

I’ve overheard many a Columbia student raving to their friends or families about their wonderful new bagel discovery, but I’m proud to say Absolute Bagels made me a bagel snob since day one. It’s hard not to be when the perfect bagels — crunchy outsides, doughy insides, fresh cream cheese — have always been a five-minute walk away.

When friends (and later my partner) slept over at our house, my father would run out early in the mornings to pick up a dozen bagels for breakfast. “You don’t have to do that.” I’d tell him “We do have food for breakfast, we can manage.”

I’d always find a brown paper bag full of fresh bagels on the counter the next morning anyway.

One morning, as my mother and I were attempting to take our reluctant dog to the vet, she told me to run to Absolute to grab him a treat.

“Butter or cream cheese?” I asked

“Butter. It’s cheaper.”

It worked. As is the case with most people, a just-out-of-the-oven toasted bagel with butter is a pretty convincing motivator.

A makeshift memorial in front of the entrance of Absolute Bagels. Photo by Nora Sissenich

Returning to Absolute Bagels after the COVID lockdown was as nostalgic as it was delicious. It became my partner and my favorite spot for a snack during the summers. Each time, I’d deliberate over what order to get as if I’d never been there before.

I know I love the scallion cream cheese but I really want to try the olive-and-pimento one.

But what if I don’t like it?

Should I get the pumpernickel this time?

An agonizing decision, truly.

My partner always knew their order: a plain bagel, toasted, with strawberry cream cheese.

After picking up our bagels, we’d head west to Riverside Park. Our favorite spot was right on the water, stomachs rumbling in anticipation as we stepped over rocks looking for a place to sit. As runners and bikes zipped by on the path above, we’d carefully unwrap the parchment paper from our bagels, soft cream cheese half a centimeter thick oozing out of the sides with each bite. Savoring our bagels slowly, we watched barges move up and down the Hudson, and then the waves reaching the rocks below us minutes later.

I found out that Absolute was closing at midnight, the night before I was returning home for winter break. I immediately texted my parents (THIS IS THE WORST NEWS EVER). I held off on telling my partner, wanting to spare them the news. Later, my father told me he’d avoided telling me too.

One gets used to the revolving door of businesses on the Upper West Side, but I’ve never seen a response to a business closing quite like this. Offers of assistance from local politicians, groups of bagel mourners gathering to grieve outside the shuttered storefront, and an outpouring of shock and support on social media — the neighborhood is truly mourning. And so am I.

For now, I don’t want your bagel recommendations. They can’t replace what we’ve lost.

Circle back in about seven days, though — I might get hungry and take you up on the offer.

Nora Sissenich is a second-year student at the University of Vermont where she serves as features editor of the Vermont Cynic.

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