Bagel Coop: Mike Cooperberg and the Holy Bagel

Photo: Neighbors of the Wasatch Back // Jill Baker.

Modern travel and wanderlust-FOMO have brought many a young powder hound to the banks of Park City Mountain Resort, satiating their hunger for broader horizons on Utah’s alpen glow, twinkling aspens, and…bagels? 

Mike Cooperberg, owner of Bagel Coop, has brought a taste of his past to the peaks of Summit County, filling a gap in the bakery market for what he describes as “an authentic New York City bagel.” Never had one? Save your miles. Coop delivers. 

Blueberry and butter topped with egg and melted cheese was my Wednesday morning “du jour with Dad,” followed by his weekly “I’ll have the same––on jalapeño,” proclaimed loudly behind the sneeze glass while the woman working ladled cream cheese on plain like buttercream on cake. And while this memory lives seaside in my hometown, the connection between food and memory is ubiquitous to the human experience, so much so that more than 30 percent of all US restaurants are owned by immigrants. 

Why do so many foreign-born residents take up their pans and pie tins in favor of hospitality? The answer, like a shower curtain, is many-fold, but in Utah––one of just five states with a Food Freedom Act that encourages culinary creatives to toss their chef hat into the proverbial soufflé ring––residents need little more than a business license and a dream. Of course, there are restrictions on where and what can be sold, but this low barrier to entry has given serial entrepreneurs like Mike both the time and the temptation to test their makings on a high-altitude West(ish) Coast market. “I had a good understanding of the bagel market in Utah,” Mike laughs, “and it was nothing I wanted to eat, so I thought I would try to re-create something that reminded me of home. Bagels were a big part of my life growing up in New Jersey, and I wanted to make something people in Park City couldn’t get anywhere else.” 

I empathize with Mike. Park City is many things, but culinarily diverse it is not. Growing up in Southern California, I’ve spent too many afternoons craving the Mexican food of my childhood, only to be reminded I’m not in Kansas (Orange County) anymore. But unlike myself, who merely writes about my gastronomic nostalgia, Mike’s memories come in a twice-weekly baker’s dozen. 

I will admit, my assumption of Mike prior to our conversation was rather unimaginative. He’s baking bagels, he must have a baking or culinary background, perhaps he spent years working under someone else, and this is his out-on-my-own venture. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Mike, it turns out, is the founder of his own paid-media firm Summit SEM Solutions, specializing in data-driven PPC (pay-per-click), SEO (search engine optimization), and paid social strategies––a.k.a., nothing that bakes well. Which leads me to only one possible assumption as to why this dad of two has diverted his attention from the immaterial world of digital marketing to the kinesthetic kingdom of high-gluten flour; slow cold-ferments; and a barley-malt boil: The bagels in Park City must be really bad. 

So what’s so special about a New York bagel, and why does Manhattan reign supreme for this uniquely shaped breakfast bread? “I think it comes down to ingredients and process,” explains Mike, who makes it clear to me his ingredients are the same being used by pro bakeries back east. “Some say it’s the New York water,” he continues, with a smile, “but that’s been debunked by now. The reality is, every single step of the bagel process can be simplified, and corners can be cut to make the job easier. But what gets glossed over is the sum of its parts. Every time you alter a step, it turns the product into something…slightly different. And I really do believe it affects the flavor.” 

The best interview question I ever heard asked applicants to describe themselves as either a baker or a chef. Rarely is someone both, and bakers tend to be detail-oriented, patient, analytical, and process-driven––all qualities I would use to describe my 60 minutes with Mike. That said, I can’t help wondering if what truly affected the redolence of Mike’s bagels was his dedication to the craft, or the biological phenomena known as the Proust Phenomenon. The Proust Phenomena (as described by Google) “is the psychological term for when a specific smell or taste triggers a sudden, vivid, and highly emotional memory from the distant past.” This phenomena can also be used to describe why the cultural connection to food is so essential to immigrants who crave some semblance of familiarity. 

Park City, while a far cry from the realities of true cross-continental immigration, is made up of 70–75 percent transplants: young adults who sought adventure, met and married their partner, had kids, and never returned home. For these folks, like Mike, entrepreneurship––particularly in food––the Proust Phenomenon is an unsatiated desire. The memory lives, but a worthy physicality symbol of his youth (i.e., the perfect bagel) was nowhere to be found. 

Today, baking from his home kitchen, Mike has the weekly capacity for roughly 200 bagels, 11 different flavors, and five different options for “schmear” (that’s “cream cheese” for all my West Coasters). His production has grown from hand-kneading to a commercial stand-mixer capable of producing the larger batches that have turned this reminiscent boulanger into a formidable force in Park City’s cottage-cook scene. 

But will Mike follow in the footsteps of the many who’ve come before him? Is he aiming for brick and mortar? “I want the demand for my bagels to be high enough to where I need to make that decision,” says Mike. “It’s been two years, and I’m probably more passionate than I’ve ever been as I learn and adapt. I’d have to crunch the numbers, figure out what kind of time it’s going to take, figure out what the entire process is going to look like in terms of hiring help, because I own the process right now. I created the recipe. I understand all of these little intricacies that need to happen to create this product that’s consistent.” 

The bagel business in Park City is alive and well, with new contenders entering the ring as recently as 2024. And while Mike’s “Coop” is growing, there’s an irrevocable beauty to operating simply, and in tandem with a career that’s covering the day-to-day bills. Without rent, insurance, employees, and the headache of big business or pressure to provide, Mike is free to create, learn, and grow at his own pace, introducing the next generation of Cooperbergs (young as they may be) to New York’s finest––the holy bagel.