The day I… brought bagels to Scotland: Entrepreneur Larah Bross, 42, Edinburgh, shares her story

When I was four years old, growing up in Montreal, Canada, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life – I was going to be a star on Broadway, with my name up in lights.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would become “The Bagel Lady”. But, in a way, all the careers and paths I’ve taken over the years were leading to this moment.

I did start out working in entertainment, so my toddler self wasn’t all wrong. In the past, I have been a jobbing actor, worked in theatre, done stand-up comedy, and formed part of an improv group.

I even had a brief stint working for Disney’s Cruise Line, and it was a later cruise ship job that led me to meet my partner, Marc, and eventually move to Scotland. When you work on cruise ships, you normally share a cabin with another person, living in very close proximity.

So, you always have to try to make friends with a manager because they get their own cabin with a porthole. Marc was the manager of photography, and that’s how we met.

I stopped working in cruise ships before he did, moving to New York for four years, so we decided to do the long-distance relationship thing for a while. In 2006, he suggested I move to Edinburgh, where he had bought a flat, and I thought I would join him, get a feel for the place, and spend the summer working at The Fringe. Fast forward 14 years and I’m still here.

For 10 years, I ran a children’s theatre company in Portobello, our community just on the outskirts of the city, and I came to love the area and its people. Then, two years ago I applied to do a PHD. Unfortunately, my application was rejected. It was the biggest “no” I had experienced in a very long time, so I decided it was time to do something new.

I settled on opening a little café, where I could write comedy while I was serving coffee and bagels, and then pick up my daughters Billie, nine, and Roca, five, after school. But the day we opened Bross Bagels there was a queue down the block. Now we have four locations – Portobello, Leith, the West End and Bruntsfield – and I’m busier than ever before. If something exciting doesn’t happen in a day, there’s something wrong!

Everyone knows about New York bagels, mostly because New Yorkers don’t stop talking about them.

But Montreal’s bagels are like their hidden secret cousin – and we’re quite happy to keep them all to ourselves, because that means more for us. Unless you’ve been to Montreal you wouldn’t know about the city’s love affair with bagels.

There’s a shop on every single corner and once a week, every week, everyone visits their favourite place to load up on a big paper bag full of fresh, steaming bagels that fill the car with the scent of sesame seeds. Delicious. When I got to Edinburgh, I kept asking people: “So, where do I get the good bagels?”

I couldn’t believe they were only available in the supermarket.

I used to beg friends, family and any visitors from Montreal to bring them over for me, stashing packets in their luggage so I could hide them behind the peas in my freezer. But now I have my own fresh supply, baked to the perfect recipe by community-supported organic bakery Breadshare.

One of my first jobs when I moved to Scotland was with Tom Kitchin – or Chef, as I still call him – so when I decided I was going to open my shop, I brought over lots of different samples for him to taste. He helped me find local suppliers, and I think that’s why I’ve become so passionate about using fresh Scottish products and forging good connections with the makers, too.

People always ask me how I come up with the fillings and the truth is they all have a personal connection or memory, which makes them extra-special. Each one has a story, but my go-to is definitely the Montreal because that’s what I used to eat all the time back home. It’s cream cheese, lox, pickled red onions, capers, dill, lemon and black pepper. The full shebang.

I used to think I would have my name up in lights, and with my name above the shop I guess it is now – just for a very different reason.

As told to Alice Hinds