The first sandwich I remember loving had nothing inside it at all. After nursery, my mum would butter two slices of white bread on both sides, press them together in a Breville to make a toastie and serve it with a side of Quavers. Since then, I can match up specific sandwiches to highs and lows in my life. The pandemic tasted like Wilson’s Bread Shop bacon baps slicked with tangy brown sauce, a salve to uncertain times. My first trip to New York is forever tied to Frankel’s pastrami, egg, and cheese on challah. Being run over by a car? That tastes like the leek, cheddar and black garlic toastie consumed at FED after every orthopaedic appointment.
Sandwiches, or more specifically bagels, hold equal importance to Dan Martensen, founder of cult New York bagel purveyor It’s Bagels. “To a New Yorker, a sandwich is essential, and perhaps the most iconic sandwich in New York is a bagel. It’s intrinsic to the culture of the city; it’s soul food on the go,” says Martensen. “It is personal, and like our pizza, our coffee and our identity, we take bagels seriously.”
The absence of New York-style bagels in London blew Martensen’s mind. “I suppose I hadn’t thought of it before moving here; as for me, bagels were an everyday part of life, but these ubiquitous treats are not readily available everywhere in the world after all.” To his dismay, he found soft, dolorous, flavourless and uninspired bagels haunting every corner of the capital. The salt beef bagels on Brick Lane were the best of the bunch, but they didn’t scratch that itch. “My quest turned into an obsession; the obsession turned into experimentation, which led me to a recipe I felt good enough to share with friends, many of whom encouraged me to do a delivery pop-up on the weekends. Hence, it was then that a little baby called It’s Bagels was born.”
As it’s the foodism Dining Out issue, it feels right to leave my Peckham kitchen to collaborate with It’s Bagels on a sandwich recipe that, unlike my childhood toasties, does contain a filling. Specifically, a vibrant green goddess schmear packed with herbs and citrus, rich, briny smoked trout and crunchy pickled radishes. These are precisely the flavours I crave when I’m holed up working from home, and it all comes together in a matter of minutes. I use parsley, dill and mint in the schmear, but it’s a great way to use up any herbs skulking in the back of the fridge. The pickled radishes make more than you’ll need, but they keep for two weeks in the fridge for future bagel-making.
