(HUDSON, N.Y.) – There are so many sorry-ass excuses for knishes running around these days, many so bland and wrong they don’t even deserve to be called a knish.

A real old-fashioned, well-seasoned potato knish is a rare and wonderful thing. And I just happen to live in a town that I do believe has a homemade knish that ranks with the best of them – perhaps the greatest knish that can be found today, anywhere.

As good as the falafel and hummos and pizza and Mediterranean salads are at Park Falafel and Pizza, probably the greatest delicacy it boasts is the potato knish. Hot out of its pizza oven, spread with brown mustard, there is nothing like it in the world. Or there IS something like it in the world – your memory of what knishes USED to be.

If Proust’s madeleine were a knish, this would be it. It’s the Platonic ideal of the knish.

Eat it.

Oh, and their baked goods are sinfully delicious, too. But that’s an ode for another time.