Is the New Absolute Bagels Still Absolute?
If everything about a bagel shop changes except the people—is it still the same bagel shop?
“New Absolute Bagels” opened in the same location as the original shop, 2788 Broadway on 108th & Broadway
Is the “New Absolute Bagels” just as good as the original? That question has consumed the Upper West Side since Absolute Bagels quietly reopened in early 2026 under a new owner, new equipment, and with a noticeably brighter interior - but with much of the same staff, the same layout, and, according to its most devoted customers, the same bagels.
The original Absolute Bagels closed abruptly last December after failing yet another health inspection. The longtime owner, Sam Thongkrieng, daunted by the cost of remediation and facing a steep rent increase, chose to shutter the shop and return to Thailand. News of the closure spread quickly, and the reaction was visceral. As the New York Times put it, “A Bagel Shop Closed, and the Upper West Side Is Absolutely Losing It.” Regulars wept outside the metal gate. Some sat shiva on the sidewalk. Others scavenged through the dumpster, hoping to salvage a piece of the shop before it disappeared entirely. At one point, frozen “last” Absolute bagels appeared for sale on eBay for a whopping $14.99 a pop.
For many, the closing of Absolute Bagels felt like the end of a core part of the neighborhood’s identity.
So when a banner reading “New Absolute Bagels” appeared on the same storefront months later, it was met with equal parts relief and suspicion. A new lease had been signed by a mysterious new owner. But the “New Absolute Bagels” couldn’t possibly be as good as the original - could it?
A sign on the New Absolute Bagels door announcing the shop’s soft opening
The answer began to take shape last week, just over a year since the original shop closed its doors. A sign appeared in the window announcing a soft opening, misspelled “Bagels”: “New Absolute Bagls [sic] Soft Opening Mon-Wed 8 AM Until Sold Out :)”
“The misspelled sign gives me hope it’s mostly the same team, they always had typos on printed signs,“ said Emily Code, a self-described “Absolute Loyalist” who has lived on the same block as the shop for 15 years.
Emily had been keeping up with the Absolute scuttlebutt via her doorman, who is friends with Absolute’s baker. She was the one who alerted me to the soft opening. When we arrived at 9am, a familiar line stretched down Broadway, sheltering under the awning of the neighboring business (the change of direction of said line was a newsworthy story when it happened in 2024 - another testament to the gravity of this shop).
Inside, some things were unmistakably different. Rainbow bagels filled the window. A plant wall glowed beneath a fluorescent moon. The space was brighter, cleaner, newly scrubbed of 30 years of wear and grime.
Yet everything else felt incredibly familiar. The layout was the same. The flow, identical. And then there was Addi.
Addi is a longtime Absolute Bagels cashier. When she saw Emily, she lit up, waved her over, and leaned across the counter for a hug. As the two of them caught up, holding each others arms, laughing, and smiling, one question was settled immediately: this opening was more of a continuation than a replacement.
Would the same be true of the bagels themselves? It took just one bite for both Emily and I to reach the same conclusion: this is more or less the same bagel that had helped Absolute Bagels develop a cult following in the first place. “That’s what I remember! That’s good. Oh my God, mhmm,” said Emily after her first bite of an everything bagel, untoasted with lox spread.
She was right. The bagel’s distinctive crust was crackly, with a chewy, malty interior. The everything seasoning coated just one side. The aroma and taste was just like we remembered.
The bagels on New Absolute Bagels first day looked similar to the ones we remembered
On its first day, New Absolute picked up very close to where they left off. That may be because, as Addi explained, much of the original team had returned. “New boss,” she said. “Everything new, but everybody all the same.”
Philosophers have long debated the Ship of Theseus, a thought experiment that asks whether an object remains the same if all of its components are replaced over time. Is identity tied to materials, to structure, or to continuity?
Absolute Bagels now poses a similar problem. The shop is no longer cash-only. Prices are higher. Rent is rumored to be north of $30,000 a month. These are not trivial changes, but they are the kinds of adaptations required to survive in New York in 2025. “Everything up, up, up,” Addi said with a shrug.
Not everyone sees the continuity as legitimate. On Instagram, a commenter claiming to be related to the former owner criticized the use of the Absolute name, arguing that the recipe and reputation were painstakingly built over decades and should not be inherited by default: “I’m happy for the new owner, but what I think is wrong and unfair to my uncle (the former owner) is that he's using the original name. My uncle painstakingly collected and developed the bagel recipe and built it over 20 years. He should be proud of his new shop under his own name, instead of falsely using my uncle's original name.🥺” commented @maynyc77
Which brings us back to the original question: - what is the essence of a bagel shop? The name? The recipe? The staff? And when does a bagel shop cease to be its old self and takes on a new identity?
After eating thousands of bagels in New York and beyond, I’ve come to believe that the answer is simple. The magic of New York bagels is, and has always been, the people. It’s the roller making and shaping the dough. The baker, coming in at the crack of dawn to start baking. The cashier, like Addi, who remembers your order, and greets you with a smile.
As long as the people remain unchanged, it is still Absolute Bagels.
Even if some of its planks have been replaced.