The Feast of Unleavened Bagels

I had forgotten how much I like bagels, until a friend made some for a brunch the other day. They were really, really good. So with Cindy sitting around with pneumonia, I thought I'd make her some, as she likes them too. (Who doesn't?)

So yesterday when I got home I set out to make them. Evidently my yeast was dead, because they didn't rise. I knew it before I boiled them, but I thought (even though I knew better) that maybe a little heat would get it going. It did not. I knew it before I put them in the oven, but I decided I'd see what happened when I baked them. Nothing happened -- I tried to convince myself they had risen a little, but the rational side dismissed the thought. With Passover soon to be here, though, I have a small supply of small misshapen little bagelesque baked items if anyone needs one.

Maybe it was because I baked on the Ides of March. The good thing, though, is that they taste like a hint of a bagel, just enough that I'll go find some living breathing yeast and try again.