I am a huge fan of Haymishe Bakery. And I am devastated by this:
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Last Sunday morning saw Bracha’s bakery going up in smoke. The flatbreads. The dips. The flatbreads. The salads. The gluten-free goodness.
Did I mention the flatbreads?? I’ve been known to travel with them. And for them. To bring them as gifts. To subsist on them during times of trouble, emotional eating, and pregnancy.
Try as I might to come up with an appropriate send off, I think there is only one way to possibly honour such a beloved institution. In song. And in tune. Tempted as I am to make my MOAM singing debut, I simply don’t have the balls. Send enough “likes” my way, however, and I’ll do it. How’s that for interactive fun for all?
In the meantime, sing among yourselves (to the tune of “American Pie”):
HAYMISHE BAKERY
Not so long ago
I can still remember how those prices used to make me cry….
And I knew if I had my chance
I’d turn a trick, or do a dance
And maybe get a discount, worth a try….
But the last weekend in January made me shiver
No more challahs, or chopped liver.
Bad news on our doorstep,
There wouldn’t be one more shlep.
I can’t remember if I cried when I
Read about those cakes and pies.
Something touched me deep inside
The day, the flatbreads died….
CHORUS
So bye bye, Haymishe Bakery – why??
Drove up Bathurst to quench my thirst
For that gluten-free rye.
Free breads, veggie spreads, and homemade treats all straight to my thighs
Their poppy flatbreads were the best- just to die.
What-a-bagel’s aren’t the same I can’t lie…
Did you try the shnitzel too?
Or that spicy tofu eggplant stew.
Different soups there everyday…
San Fran Morning Glory bread
Or quinoa salad that sits like lead
Garlic spreads were there to stay…
Well I know Bracha screamed and yelled but she
Had a knack for the good hard sell
Her ladies didn’t mind
Keeping all the good stuff behind
If you’re a hungry child with a yen for spelt
Or need millet buns for tuna melt
No more need to loosen up your belt
The day the flatbreads died…
CHORUS
More than 10 years in that parking lot
If you’re not careful you might get caught
Scratching up your car it happens fast.
Get in and out, don’t score a deal
Grab something extra for your meal
Their sufganiyot, well they don’t last
And tho’ it seems like Bracha’s down
No one could take away her crown
The queen of yeast-free bread
Or take a sliced bubka instead…
And while other bakeries come and go
Some even supplied by Haymishe y’know
I’d brave rain, sleet, hail or snow
But now, the flatbreads died…
CHORUS
I’m just a girl, who’s singin’ the blues
No more flatbreads ain’t good news
I can’t smile, when I drive that way…
I went past the sacred store
Where I bought my baked just the day before
But the sign there said the shop had gone away.
On Bathurst street, brakes screeched and screamed
The eaters cried and the bingers dreamed
Nothing left, not even a token.
No more bread to be broken.
The 3 things that I enjoyed the most
Pletzels, shnitzles, dips on toast.
Now it’s just Nortown for a roast
The day the flatbreads died….