DOUGH RE MI : BAGEL WARS ARE MUSIC TO THE EARS OF THOSE WHO LOVE THE CHUBBY CREATIONS.

Byline: Reed Johnson Daily News Staff Writer

John Petrillo has seen the enemy, and it is Them.

Noah's Bagels. Western Bagel. Manhattan Bagels. Bruegger's. And, of course, the Evil Empire, a k a Starbucks.

The Vietnam War veteran scarcely bats an eyelash.

``I've gone up against these guys, and I've survived 'em,'' says Petrillo, 51, his voice registering a kind of grim amusement. ``Matter of fact, I've embarrassed a few of them.''

A couple miles south of the Ronald Reagan Freeway (118), John's Bagel Deli stands as a bastion of rugged individualism in an escalating war fueled by big corporate dough.

Strategically nestled in an Erringer Road strip mall, the 1,000-square-foot Simi Valley shop belongs to a dwindling number of mom-and-pop emporiums selling America's hottest breakfast food, the once-lowly bagel.

John's has held its turf for four years - a long time in the cannibalistic bagel biz, where national chains are gobbling up smaller fry and big-footing all over the independents.

Not so long ago, Van Nuys-based Western Bagel and I & Joy Bagels ruled the San Fernando Valley. Now I & Joy belongs to Manhattan Bagel Co. of Eatontown, N.J., while Western, whose founder David Ustin died Thursday, is trying to beat back the corporate hordes.

So please excuse Petrillo if he sounds a bit cocky discussing his plans to open five more stores between now and the millennium. He was especially gratified when a nearby 6-month-old Bruegger's franchise at Sycamore Drive and Cochran Street had to be taken over by the company after disappointing sales.

``The West Coast chains have been dragging their feet coming in here,'' he says. ``Now the East Coast chains are taking a shot at me, and they're not doing so good.''

Informed of Petrillo's opinion, Bruegger's store manager Monica Yates had a ready rebuttal.

``Oh God, that's poopy! I'm going to burn down his store,'' Yates says, tongue in cheek. ``I can't believe he said that.''

In point of fact, Yates retorts, the outlet's sales have gone up ``50 or 60 percent'' since the company commandeered it.

Squinting into the bright winter sunlight, Petrillo points to a window sign touting his store's ``gourmet bagels.'' Twenty-four varieties, from blueberry to jalapeno jack cheese. Every last one handmade by John, wife Debbie and their 11 employees.

Fresh basil, fresh sun-dried tomatoes, fresh everything.

``See, all bagels are measured up to New York style,'' Petrillo scoffs. ``Personally, I think they (stink).''

Bagels have become a huge business, with $1.6 billion in U.S. sales last year. Consumers see them as a portable, anti-fat alternative to steak and eggs or Cap'n Crunch. Even Dunkin' Donuts, the seat of gastronomic incorrectness, now stocks bagels alongside its glazed, sprinkled and goo-filled confections.

Historically, bagels have had a lower profile in the West Valley, Simi Valley and the desert communities than in yeastier enclaves such as Hollywood and Encino.

But in the last couple of years, the Valley has seen the arrival of two gargantuan interlopers, Einstein/Noah Bagels (300 stores nationwide, six in the Valley), which is majority-owned by Boston Chicken; and Burlington, Vt.-based Bruegger's (435 stores, with Southern California outlets from San Diego to Simi Valley).

Slowly but steadily, both chains have begun creeping westward along Ventura Boulevard and the freeways, touching off the type of do-or-die conflict that Californians usually reserve for parking spaces and water rights.

Among the take-no-prisoners tactics being deployed: cutthroat pricing, deliberate oversaturation of a region in order to keep out rivals, and the proliferation of ever-trendier flavors that make purists recoil in horror. Chocolate chip bagels, anyone?

Jerry's Famous Deli recently slashed its bagel prices to 18 cents apiece, about one-third the typical 55 or 60 cents. A sign above Jerry's Studio City store blares, ``Bagel War!''

Another Ventura Boulevard bagelista, Bonjour Bagel Cafe in Encino, advertises ``happy hour'' from 3 to 4 p.m., when a dozen bagels go for $3.95 (usually they're anywhere from $4.95 to $5.50 a dozen).

Despite such pressures, working at the bagel war's ground zero is exciting if you're a guy like Harry Batt, who co-manages a Bruegger's in the 12000 block of Ventura Boulevard in Studio City.

``You've got Manhattan, which is right behind the McDonald's, you've got Noah's three doors down, you've got Western a mile and a half on the left, and you've got Jerry's,'' Batt says, as he leads his morning crew through its daily prep routine. A printed line on his name tag reads, ``Totally completely obsessed.'' It is 6:30 a.m.

An ex-Chicagoan, Batt grew up in a Jewish neighborhood where ``we knew from bagels.'' He used to work for another major bagel chain, which he asks not be identified.

Then one day he bit into a Bruegger's bagel and - surprise, surprise - he was ``totally impressed.''

Then and there, he decided to defect.

Batt claims that Bruegger's bagels, which are boiled in water to give them a hard outer shell, come closest in spirit to bona-fide New York bagels.

At least one member of the eating public, Bill Waters of Calabasas, agrees that Bruegger's makes a bagel without peer. Earlier this week, en route to the computer store he owns, Waters pronounced Bruegger's bagels better than Western's (``Like tires,'' he griped), and its coffee superior to Starbucks (``too strong'').

(Don't cry for the omnipresent Starbucks, though: Its 800 stores make it the Shaquille O'Neal of caffeine purveyors.)

With their outlets already in most of the Lower 48, and hundreds of new stores set to open this year, Bruegger's and Noah's have reason to flex their muscles. Noah's spokeswoman Susan Gonzales says the San Francisco-based chain has won over new communities not only by its flavorful product, but by requiring its employees to perform a half-day of local volunteer work and by contributing stores' opening-day receipts to local charities.

``We don't like to call ourselves a chain - we like to call ourselves a big family,'' Gonzales says.

Noah's cultivates an image of folksy East Coast ethnicity, serving only kosher food and lining its stores with mementos of early 20th-century Manhattan for your misty-eyed pleasure. There also are photos of company founder Noah Alper surrounded by loving kinfolk.

``You notice there are many pictures of skyscrapers being built, and of the New York Dodgers - I mean, the Brooklyn Dodgers,'' Gonzales says.

Not everyone, however, is buying Noah's Lower East Side immigrant schtick.

``They claim to be Brooklyn's bagels, but they're based in San Francisco. They claim to be kosher, and they're open on Saturdays. I find that strange,'' protests Michael Rosenthal, the Jewish owner of Bonjour Bagel in Encino.

``Certainly I'm jealous of their success, but not of their product,'' he adds.

To the average mensch on the street, though, bagel authenticity may not matter very much, anymore than it matters that the ``snow'' on Disneyland's Matterhorn isn't really for skiing.

It's hard to say whether the sudden mass appeal of bagels represents a victory for old-fashioned, ethnic urban culture, or the triumph of Wonder Bread consumerism. Either way, the squat little buns are here to stay.

Back in Simi Valley, John Petrillo, for one, is determined not to roll over to the fast-food giants. He's so confident about his prospects, he's even willing to concede some grudging praise to the new Bruegger's.

``Actually, their entire operation is fantastic - apart from their crummy New York-style bagels.''

He squints gleefully.

``I love putting down New York-style bagels.''

CAPTION(S):

6 Photos

Photo: (1--Cover--Color) BAGEL WARS

The once-lowly breakfast roll is raking in the dough

(2) Jerry's Famous Deli tries to rise above the bagel competition by lowering prices.

(3) Joe Cerna, assistant manager at the Studio City Bruegger's, inspects the merchandise. At outlets of the Vermont-based chain, bagels just out of the oven are marked ``hot.''

David Sprague/Daily News

(4) Debbie and John Petrillo buck the ``New York-style'' trend at John's Bagel Deli in Simi Valley.

Bob Halvorsen/Daily News

(5) No caption (bagels)

(6) No caption (bagels)