When you trace the concentric arc of history, the bagel has long been tethered to the five boroughs of New York—chewy, boiled, crusty on the outside, airy in the middle. It’s a shape so bound to the city that arguments about its proper form often rise to the level of civic identity. Which is why, when a one-year-old bagel shop from Midtown Kingston walks into BagelFest at Citi Field and leaves with a fistful of medals, the victory feels not merely impressive but faintly subversive.
Fantzye Bagels is no stranger to BagelFest. Last year, before they had even opened their brick-and-mortar shop, they baked out of Fletcher & Lu (RIP), drove down to the festival, and walked away with two crowd-voted awards, including Best Outside the Boroughs. But this year marked a shift. Instead of popularity votes, Fantzye won the respect of the judges: runner-up for Best Bagel overall, Best Sourdough Bagel (a category tailor-made for them), and Schmear of the Year for two flavors: roasted leek and lemon caper.
For owner Elana Carlson, the recognition felt like confirmation of something she and her team had been quietly building toward. “We are getting respect for our technique and our product,” she says in her low-key way, as if to avoid sounding like someone who just beat out legacy New York institutions at their own sport.
Technique, in Fantzye’s case, is not a casual word. Their bagels follow a four-day rhythm—starter build, overnight pre-ferment, mixing, and a two-day cold ferment that dictates what can and cannot be done on any given morning.
If last year Fantzye entered BagelFest as a kind of promising outsider—an enthusiastic trailer-based operation punching above its weight—this year they arrived as a fully realized shop. The triangular brick building on Hasbrouck Avenue has become a small anchor in Midtown Kingston, an oasis of warm wood, fermentation fragrance, and the anticipatory murmuring of the weekend line. The sourdough bagel they set out to make—a bagel with tang, density, chew, and the right amount of blister—has deepened over months of tinkering.
“Baking is constant tinkering,” Carlson says. Fantzye’s head baker, Abi Gallant, leads much of that work—an ongoing calibration of dough feel, shaping technique, timing, temperature, and something Carlson calls “vibe-based” decision-making. They track everything in spreadsheets, but touch ultimately decides when a dough is ready. The team has also learned to standardize for multiple bakers, one of those quietly heroic back-of-house tasks that separates the good from the great.
The shop has expanded its menu in the slow, natural way that happens when a place begins listening to its neighborhood. A grain bowl appeared. More sandwiches. New bagel flavors like rosemary salt and cinnamon raisin. A pumpernickel is gestating somewhere in the notebook margins. There’s a liquor license now. Dinners began in the spring with chef Gina Citarella—sporadic, intimate—and may become something more permanent in the coming year. (There’s a Feast of the Seven Fishes in collaboration with Montauk Catch Club and Brunette on December 11.)
Fantzye is still slightly off the beaten path, but that seems to suit them. Carlson describes the shop as “a little oasis,” and that’s not wrong. It’s the kind of place you end up after a long dog walk or a rough morning or a meandering drive across Kingston, and the presence of a good bagel—one that shows its work in its flavor and feel—makes the day slightly more survivable.
Which is why the BagelFest wins matter. Not because medals confer legitimacy—plenty of great food exists without trophies—but because this set of wins represents a fuller kind of affirmation. Last year, the public embraced Fantzye. This year, the judges did too. Craft met technique; enthusiasm met expertise. And on a bigger stage, Fantzye held its ground.
Now comes the next chapter: increasing production without losing the fermentation cadence, expanding dinner service, maybe doing something interesting with that liquor license, and continuing the steady refinement of a bagel that has already proven itself well beyond the boundaries of Kingston.
Fantzye Bagels is not a newcomer anymore. It’s something rarer: a young shop that knows exactly what it is, knows how it wants to work, and is confident enough to let its dough take the time it needs. A year in, Fantzye stands not just as the Hudson Valley’s bagel standard-bearer, but as the kind of place that makes the New York bagel map a little bigger—and a little more interesting.
