January 17, 2022
By Arthur H. Gunther III
thecolumnrule.com
ahgunther@yahoo.com
There used to be a bakery in Nyack, N.Y., name of Luleich. It was the typical but oh-so-welcome village fixture. Sometimes communities had more than one, German-style, Italian-style, etc. Depended on the neighborhood.
Nyack, in the 1950s, my time there when my parents shopped in the busy downtown before the New Jersey malls opened, Luleich’s was the only bakery we went to on Main Street. There may have been other palaces of treats though.
Accompanying parents on shopping trips could be a bore, of course, so knowing that Luleich’s was in Nyack made me get in the car.
My parents would drop my brother Craig and me off at the Nyack Library or Memorial Park, where adventures could be found. And warmth, too, in the great library main room.
Eventually, we made our way to Main Street, and as soon as we spotted the shiny black tiles below the bakery window, the Pavlovian effect kicked in, and saliva began to flow.
A custard donut with white icing for me, please.
The writer is a retired newspaperman.
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