One Sunday, I headed down the tree-lined interstate, through charming Nyack, across the Hudson River on the Tappan Zee Bridge and over to the train station in Tarrytown, where I met daughter Amy for a "Let's Get Away from It All" adventure.
You don't always have to fly a long way to find a new world to explore.
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| Tarrytown |
Free tastings at Pure Mountain Olive Oil lured us into an attractive shop lined with dozens of tapped canisters of flavored olive oils and vinegars.
After sampling chocolate vinegar with an extra virgin olive oil, we were hooked. The capable young saleslady soon approached to recommend her favored combinations, and as unlikely as it may seem to anyone who knows me, I actually left the store with a bag of small bottles.
From an assortment of choices I'd found online, we chose to next visit Sunnyside, the home of Washington Irving, who authored the headless horseman classic, "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow."
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| Washington Irving's Yard |
For example, in learning that Washington Irving's first book was a travel journal, "A History of New-York from the Beginning of the World to the End of the Dutch Dynasty" written under the pen name Diedrich Knickerbocker, the host didn't connect the dots by proclaiming that pseudonym was the birthplace for the term Knickerbocker until I asked point blank. Knickerbocker became so popular as an alternative name to New Yorker that it became the basis for name for its basketball team as well as the subject for a catchy song by Barney's love-able sidekick, Baby Bop.
When I went home and read more about Washington Irving, I discovered that he actually made that book famous with the 1809 equivalent of a viral marketing campaign.
Irving placed a series of missing persons ads in New York City newspapers. He claimed the Dutch historian Diedrich Knickerbocker had vanished without forwarding information, leaving his hotel bill unpaid.
Claiming to be the hotel owner, he threatened to publish the manuscript Knickerbocker had left behind in order to cover the bill.
The hoax generated enormous interest among newspaper readers, including city officials who considered offering a reward for the safe return of Mr. Knickerbocker.
Riding this buzz, the book found immediate commercial success and critical acclaim.
I personally would have found that little piece of literary history quite a bit more interesting than the included explanation about the fake mashed potatoes representing a dish served at one of Irving's hosted dinners that was similar to what Ichibod Crane encountered at the home of his unrequited love.
For what it's worth, Rip Van Winkle was Washington Irving's character that I personally found most relevant to my childhood memories, and they barely mentioned that book.
Perhaps it would have been different had we toured the upstairs area, which included the bedrooms, but this being a winter tour, that upper floor half of the house was out of bounds.
They wouldn't even allow us to dash up the stairs on our own for a quick look.
Walking into Irving's back yard, we saw a sturdy apple tree, and Amy contemplated channeling her inner Tom Sawyer (I know, wrong author) to pick apples for us to eat as consolation prizes.
They may well have turned out to be crisp and tasty, a nice treat as we walked around the spacious grounds, but had we eaten them (and I'm not saying we didn't, but I'm also not saying we did), that wouldn't have been enough to quell Amy's hunger, as by now it was about 2 and she still hadn't eaten breakfast.
We headed over to the historic village of Dobbs Ferry to have lunch at Cedar Street Grill, a restaurant which, according to a cursory internet search, appeared to have a great lunch menu with stellar reviews.
As it turned out, they were serving brunch all-day, so, having enjoyed a delicious breakfast that Gina had made, I ordered only a local beer, while Amy chose the intriguing Pulled Pork Eggs Benedict.
After she shared a bite with me, I ended up eating one of her two English muffins with poached egg, hollandaise sauce and generous helping of pulled pork.
"I should have taken a picture of it," journalist Amy said.
"I'll order another one, and you can take a picture when that plate comes."
When the waiter brought our second breakfast, we scarfed it up so quickly that we were down to the last fork full when we realized we still hadn't taken a photo
Suffice it to say, Pulled Pork Eggs Benedict turned out to be pretty tasty.
Upon finishing our meal, we set off to find the place where George Washington gathered his troops in preparation for the deciding battle of the Revolutionary War.
Well, before going too far we doubled back to Cedar Street Grill to use their restroom, a precaution I'm sure Washington and his men would have taken in in the summer of 1781 before embarking on their six week trek to Yorktown, Virginia, 400 miles to the south.
Having read the entertaining trilogy that focused on the Victory at Yorktown as its conclusion, I was sure everyone we encountered must know where the troops gathered, so I asked random people, much to the embarrassment of Amy.
Surprisingly, on the wide path through a park, none of the locals we encountered seemed to be vaguely aware of any history in the area, as evidenced by the fact that eventually I had just gone to the shorthand question, "Do you know any historical sites in Dobbs Ferry?"
After a while, we found ourselves walking down hill toward the river.
A woman heading uphill on a bicycle, overhearing my request to a couple taking a walk around their neighborhood, stopped to offer advice.
She said there was a beautiful viewing area a short distance ahead on the left marked by a small brass sign.
This viewing spot above Wicker's Creek is purportedly where Weckquaesgeek Indians of the Algonquin Nation first saw English explorer Henry Hudson's boat, marking the arrival of Europeans to the area.
In 1682, Dutchmen purchased the village of Wysquaqua (after the native American name for Wicker's Creek) from the natives, and it evolved to become Dobbs Ferry, named after the family that operated the local river transportation service.
The bicyclist went on to say that beyond that spot, we would find a gate that restricted access to locals only. She said to ignore that sign, as she didn't live in Dobbs Ferry and went out there regularly to appreciate the incredible views.
She was right. Not only were there beautiful trees lining the wide river, but from the point of a jetty, we could clearly see the beautiful Manhattan skyline, to which Amy would soon return.
We still hadn't found the site where Washington's troops had gathered, but in the village, we finally found a local who was doing some repair work on his historic house. He had an inkling of what we might be seeking and gave us quick directions.
When we stopped to get sodas at a nearby store before continuing on, that same man entered a minute later, giving us more details to follow to the Aqueduct Trail.
Sure enough, we eventually did find a monument to George Washington, and while it might not have been the exact place we had sought, we certainly had enjoyed a fun afternoon search.
The sun was fading fast, so Amy boarded the Metro-North which would take her back to her Harlem apartment to rest up for another work week in the Big Apple.
Irving placed a series of missing persons ads in New York City newspapers. He claimed the Dutch historian Diedrich Knickerbocker had vanished without forwarding information, leaving his hotel bill unpaid.
The hoax generated enormous interest among newspaper readers, including city officials who considered offering a reward for the safe return of Mr. Knickerbocker.
I personally would have found that little piece of literary history quite a bit more interesting than the included explanation about the fake mashed potatoes representing a dish served at one of Irving's hosted dinners that was similar to what Ichibod Crane encountered at the home of his unrequited love.
Perhaps it would have been different had we toured the upstairs area, which included the bedrooms, but this being a winter tour, that upper floor half of the house was out of bounds.
Walking into Irving's back yard, we saw a sturdy apple tree, and Amy contemplated channeling her inner Tom Sawyer (I know, wrong author) to pick apples for us to eat as consolation prizes.
They may well have turned out to be crisp and tasty, a nice treat as we walked around the spacious grounds, but had we eaten them (and I'm not saying we didn't, but I'm also not saying we did), that wouldn't have been enough to quell Amy's hunger, as by now it was about 2 and she still hadn't eaten breakfast.
We headed over to the historic village of Dobbs Ferry to have lunch at Cedar Street Grill, a restaurant which, according to a cursory internet search, appeared to have a great lunch menu with stellar reviews.
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| Amy in Gazebo at Dobbs Ferry |
After she shared a bite with me, I ended up eating one of her two English muffins with poached egg, hollandaise sauce and generous helping of pulled pork.
"I should have taken a picture of it," journalist Amy said.
"I'll order another one, and you can take a picture when that plate comes."
When the waiter brought our second breakfast, we scarfed it up so quickly that we were down to the last fork full when we realized we still hadn't taken a photo
Suffice it to say, Pulled Pork Eggs Benedict turned out to be pretty tasty.
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| Aqueduct Trail |
Well, before going too far we doubled back to Cedar Street Grill to use their restroom, a precaution I'm sure Washington and his men would have taken in in the summer of 1781 before embarking on their six week trek to Yorktown, Virginia, 400 miles to the south.
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| Hudson River from Dobbs Ferry |
Surprisingly, on the wide path through a park, none of the locals we encountered seemed to be vaguely aware of any history in the area, as evidenced by the fact that eventually I had just gone to the shorthand question, "Do you know any historical sites in Dobbs Ferry?"
A woman heading uphill on a bicycle, overhearing my request to a couple taking a walk around their neighborhood, stopped to offer advice.
She said there was a beautiful viewing area a short distance ahead on the left marked by a small brass sign.
 |
| Wysquaqua |
In 1682, Dutchmen purchased the village of Wysquaqua (after the native American name for Wicker's Creek) from the natives, and it evolved to become Dobbs Ferry, named after the family that operated the local river transportation service.
She was right. Not only were there beautiful trees lining the wide river, but from the point of a jetty, we could clearly see the beautiful Manhattan skyline, to which Amy would soon return.
When we stopped to get sodas at a nearby store before continuing on, that same man entered a minute later, giving us more details to follow to the Aqueduct Trail.
Sure enough, we eventually did find a monument to George Washington, and while it might not have been the exact place we had sought, we certainly had enjoyed a fun afternoon search.
The sun was fading fast, so Amy boarded the Metro-North which would take her back to her Harlem apartment to rest up for another work week in the Big Apple.
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| Hudson River and Manhattan Skyline from Dobbs Ferry |
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| Lyndhurst Mansion |
P.S. Amy and I didn't see Lyndhurst Mansion near Washington Irving's Sunnyside during our day together, but the next day, after driving Gina to work in Manhattan, I got on the wrong expressway and wound up back in Westchester County. So, I stopped at this mansion, which seemed like it could have been the Great Gatsby''s. It was actually owned at one time by a railroad magnate named Jay Gould (close to Jay Gatsby!). Before Gould, it was owned by merchant George Merritt, which happens to be the same name as the brother of childhood friend David who was a bit obsessed by "The Great Gatsby" at one time.
This has little to do with the rest of the post, but it is further testament to how strangely everything is interconnected. By the way, I also could have noted that before writing his New York book as Mr. Knicerbocker, Washington Irving, along with his brother, wrote Salmagundi, a sort of predecessor of Mad Magazine. Mad was pretty popular when I was a kid.
In my dad's beauty salon, he had a picture of Mad's Alfred E. Newman with the caption, "What, me worry?" At a school assembly at Westminster High, when a Russian guest speaker tried to recruit us to the communist way of life, one of the kids in my high school stood up and said, "If communism is so great, why don't you build a picture glass wall instead of an Iron Curtain?!?!" That brought uproarious applause from the assembled crowd in the auditorium. That student who scored big props with teachers as well as students, was quoting Mad Magazine. Now, of course, that kid would be shouted down as intolerant on most campuses, or so I hear. Another tie-in to Washington Irving that I couldn't fit into this blog was that he also wrote some famous biographies, including on Mohammed, which happens to tie in directly with the Holy Lands cruise we recently took. He also wrote the first historic novel about Christopher Columbus, for which he has subsequently received criticism for painting too sentimental and patriotic a picture of that explorer whom, as I mentioned in passing, was considered a hero when I was a kid.
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