That's shorthand for my Saturday morning breakfast--a medium iced coffee and a salt bagel--at the underground Dunkin' Donuts in Harvard Square. You'd think that a crust of kosher salt so thick that it makes your mouth hurt to chew on it would represent some kind of deterrent, but there's something about the Double D's salt bagels which I find absolutely addictive. I think they're putting a hint of garlic in with the salt.
The salsa bagel, however, is not to be touched with a ten-foot cattle prod unless part of an egg sandwich (preferably with sausage), as left to its own devices the entirely artificial nature of the "salsa" flavor manifests itself as a chemical burn that lingers on the lips and tongue until early afternooon. Ouch.