Citizen Steve Eats - A Trip to Howbowda Bagel Company

    I ate a bagel sandwich today at Howbowda Bagel Co., located on Green just East of 6th in Champaign, IL.  The sandwich was called "The Wall Streeter".  Hot roast beef, horseradish, and some other good stuff like that.  It was supposed to be served on an "everything" bagel, but they were out of those.  In fact, they were out of all seeded bagels.  Damn.  I like seeds.  Ah well.  I got it on an egg bagel.  I've always thought that eggs deserve more stage time in the hours past noon.

    The egg bagel worked.  What was most striking about it was its smell, which overwhelmed the smells from the beef and the horseradish (no easy feat).  That egg smell can take you back a long way, eh?  Sunday breakfasts after church, packed diners in the city, and a few other rather nostalgic scenes.  I think it was that smell that made the sandwich go a bit further than the average beef panini.  And Dustin, the owner, hadn't been so ready to make my sandwich on the egg bagel.  He had recommended plain or whole wheat in leu of my beloved seeded bagels.  I guess this sandwich was what the afro-donning "Joy of Painting" host Bob Ross would have called a "happy accident".  And happy I was, indeed.

    Dustin says that business has been ok.  October is a good month, he says.  I think he means that it's a good month for any campus business, not for bagels in particular.  I've heard rumors that Howbowda hasn't been doing too well since it opened last year.  For one thing, some fellow capitalists opened a Dunkin Donuts right next to the place.  And a few months later, a Panera opened up across the street.  Now, I'm not the type to bitch about big corporations making it hard on the little guy.  Rather, I'm the type to buy my stuff from the little guy.  Unless the little guy sucks.

    And Howbowda Bagel don't suck.  It's the only place on campus where you can get a sandwich, and have it freshly made, and not think to yourself "I've eaten this exact same thing in Chicago, and Kankakee, and Charleston..." (I'm looking at you, Subway.)  And that's the joy of eating at an independent restaurant.  Dustin here has used his expertise to write up a menu, pick out quality ingredients, and make me a sandwich right in front of my eyes.  Then, he asked if I had any suggestions for the place, telling me that he prefers negative feedback.  "I don't wanna hear the positive stuff," he says.

    Bar Giuliani, the only campus coffee shop without billboards all over town boasting its many locations, has closed its doors.  I smell a gap in the local coffee market.  Guiliani was a favorite among hipsters and grad students- those who had ideals involving coffee shop ownership, and who were put off by transparent attempts to seem worldly (I guess "venti mocha frap" is Seattle-ish for "a ton of sweet shit").  Where are these socially conscious caffeine addicts to browse digg.com now?

    Next time I stop in Howbowda, I'll give Dustin my negative feedback: You only have one type of coffee, and you call it "coffee".  That won't cut it in 2009.  Maybe (God-willing) 2010 will usher in a coffee revival, when Americans can just sip a cup of joe without imagining they're trilingual French skiers.  But for now, Howbowda needs to diversify its brews, and maybe add an "-ino" or a tilde (as in "sweeteñer") to its drink menu.  Until they do, try the pesto cream cheese on a spinach bagel, and chug from a glass bottle of Nantucket Nectar.  Makes for a hell of a lunch.