A popular trend in fine dining is to elevate the mundane to luxurious heights. New York's best meatball parm is strictly reservation only, and the feted Momofuku Milk Bar bills amongst its' signature beverages a concoction titled “cereal milk,” described appropriately as “what's left over at the bottom of the bowl after you're done eating the cornflakes.” All for a a reasonable forty dollars a gallon.
Even in the austere Midwest, it's not hard to find such gentrification: half of the restaurants 'round the square now list similarly upscale interpretations of down-home cuisine. Restaurant Graze, tomboy stepsister of locovore pioneer L'Etoile, is legendary for it's rendition of traditional hangover cure chicken and waffles. The cholesterol isn't so much a worry as not choking halfway through at the realization you just spent twenty bucks for something last ate at a truck stop.
Such “updates” frequently lose in transition the qualities that once made them great. While journalists and chefs fantasize of foie gras and tamarinds, what really grabs their attention is something fabulous that won't weigh them down or empty their checkbooks. The trifecta of “cheap, healthy, and fast” is hard to find, but Bagels Forever does it remarkably well.
Bolted on the bagel factory halfway down University Avenue as sort of patio-cum-delicatessen, the restaurant proper makes the average Subway look like a palace. There's an array of industrial refridgerators for beverages and schmears, a massive countertop housing a rainbow of fresh-baked bagels, and a cash register. Chairs and tables are available strictly on a bring-your-own basis; Bagels Forever is standing room only.
This tunnel-vision focus on slinging product starts to click when you eat it. The bagels, produced by the brunellian industry in the back, are a vast improvement over their frozen counterparts; while not particularly effette, the frantic sales result constant freshness. The meat is Boar's Head , the veggies are top notch, and they're not stingy with either. Ask for the complete works, and you get a five-inch monstrosity with everything from sport peppers to capers. You even get a pickle on the side.
However, the focus on efficiency is most glorious when you see the receipt. Of the entire menu, almost nothing is more than four dollars; throw in chips and a drink, and you'll have difficulty eclipsing five. A couple of bagels and some neufchatel is less than two bucks. It's cheaper than Taco Bell.
Bagels Forever is a Madison original that does its' thing better than anyone else. By trimming dubious luxuries like tables and chairs, they provide fresh and lightweight fare for less than a fast-food greaseball. Whether you're cutting calories or counting dollars, Bagels is definitely worth going out of the way for.