I lived as a child in Zamoskvorechye, in a quiet Moscow courtyard. Next was a bakery. Where in the morning from the small window, he sold the most delicious warm pastries. All lined up, no less, perhaps, than the legendary Baker Filippova. Who was famous for his cakes and was known to eat a cockroach to save his reputation and after that polar cod in Moscow with the raisins began to bake. So from this small window of polar cod was extraordinary delicious. There is no longer that of a bakery. And Zamoskvorechye is quite different. And city childhood that no longer exists, when the sky was bluer and the grass greener. And pretzel bagels I want, damn it. I didn't find anything from Filippova, seen the old rascal all his recipes to the grave has claimed. Found GOST, counted, these industrial 100kg flour))) There looked, there peeped. The result was very similar to the buns out of the window. Come take a look. Here it is, my dear lush secca, my compatriot native)))