Staten Island Restaurant Tour, Part III: Laila (Richmond Valley)
The enormity of the Staten Island Restaurant Tour is dawning on me. Just as it’s hard to get the giant freestanding letters of the Staten Island Ferry sign in one unobstructed shot, having a meal near each of the 21 rail stops in New York’s least frequented borough is going to be a challenge. Here’s the left half of the sign on the Manhattan side, as I board the ferry, eventually to reach the Richmond Valley station and Laila’s Mediterranean Restaurant for SIRT Part III.
Blue and grey were duking it out in the sky when I left my apartment and by the time I passed the Statue of Liberty, en route to St. George, grey had all but won. Sorry if the pictures are a little less colorful than usual.
Richmond Valley was renamed for its train station in 1860 — previously it had been considered part of Tottenville, a few stops farther down the line — but that doesn’t make it easy to be a pedestrian there. Sidewalks may be interrupted or absent altogether. The piquantly named Weiner Avenue might have been a logical place to leave Richmond Valley Road, near the station, but it looked less favorable on the map, and even worse on the ground. I redirected my northward path to Madsen Avenue, which runs parallel to Page Avenue, site of a small strip mall and today’s dining destination. The walk was pleasant but had its share of Staten Island pedestrian non sequiturs. I don’t know anything about the politics between homeowners and NYC DOT but sidewalks are frequently interrupted by driveways.
Madsen Avenue was not devoid of charm and dignity, though. It is a street of pleasant and well-kept homes. One of them had its own miniature cornfield!
Not all driveway obstructions forced me into the road. This one I just stepped over.
Here is Laila Express. I did not actually eat here. It may be the takeout wing of the operation.
A friendly bystander, possibly a staff member, directed me to Laila proper.
The management has made the maximum effort to present a green front to the neighborhood while screening what appears to be a sidewalk dining extension from the quiet street.
The interior is a place where you might set a spell as you wait for your table or for your friends to show up. I wish I’d arranged for some friends to meet me here so that I could have waited for them in one of these classy wicker chairs.
The brick-themed space appears somewhat dark and forbidding in the restaurant website’s official picture, but in person it was warm and inviting.
The menu promised a Taste of Syria.
I will let the menu tell the story.
The green olives came in chili oil with more flavor and character than what I get in the local Asian supermarket. I dunked the hot pita in oil — you can see a hunk of it here, soaking up the delicious but not ridiculously spicy red stuff.
I had just settled on chicken shawarma as something characteristically Syrian, or at least Middle Eastern, when I saw the stuffed cabbage on the menu. Lamb stuffed cabbage. Oh yeah. The timing was excellent: I had just given a blood sample for my cholesterol check that morning. The bandaged arm closed the heavy menu with a decisive thump.
The stuffed cabbage leaves were thin and cigar-shaped, like flautas, and looked pretty good on the plate with a dollop of yogurt sauce. I busted one open and attacked. It tasted good, with or without the sauce.
Showed ’em no mercy. Three of the five quickly vanished.
“You’re taking a picture of the empty plate,” said a fellow diner. Yes, I was. “I’ve never seen that before.” No, you haven’t. Staffers were as friendly as my fellow diners. Service was attentive, fast, and came with a smile. Perhaps the good example was set at the top — on the way out, I ran into the owner, who offered a similarly sunny smile, along with a good handshake, and wanted to make sure I’d enjoyed my meal. If my people skills were as good as his, I’d have gotten his name and snapped a picture. This was (to my knowledge) my first time in a Syrian restaurant, and I was impressed at how friendly the people were on the way in, while I had my meal, and on the way out.
I retraced my steps to the Richmond Valley Station and walked east on Amboy Road along the northern border of the Mount Loretto State Forest. Was this asphalt structure a maxi-curb or a mini-sidewalk? Whatever the intention may have been, it was better than walking in the road.
This next stretch was fine, with exuberant greenery on the verge of autumn foliage-season color. I may not get back here for another month and regret missing a chance to watch the trees don their plumage here on the big island.
In tribute for nine years of loyal service, a bluebelt is adopted and presumably endowed.
At Pleasant Plains, sorta kinda possibly the next stop on the Staten Island Restaurant Tour, the train back to the ferry pulls into the station.
The Guy V. Molinari ferry arrives. The Republican was Staten Island borough president for 12 years starting in 1990, back in the days when the borough presidents — who sat on something called the Board of Estimate — were all-powerful. City charter reform put an end to that. Before that Molinari was a Staten Island congressman.
On the ferry trip home, I choose the two less popular options, riding on the lower level, where the seating is comfortably wide and curved; and on the left side, facing the shore of New Jersey. It is less crowded than the upper level on the Liberty Island side, where European tourists excitedly point their phone cameras at the American icon holding the torch of freedom.
I was thrilled with the lamb stuffed cabbage at Laila but it was a tough choice. Richmond Valley has more viable choices than any SIR station in southern Staten Island. Only Eltingville, in the center, and a couple of stations at the north end across from Manhattan had as many potential choices. I would love to get back to the diner, chicken, and omnipresent Italian joints in return visits. The next two destinations, Pleasant Plains and Prince’s Bay, may be good for walking — including maybe a waterside wander in the latter — but they are the only two stations on the rail map for which Google Maps did not suggest any appealing restaurant ideas. Oh, well, I’ll think of something.
Previously on the Staten Island Restaurant Tour:
Part I: Angelina’s (Tottenville)
Part II: Fina’s Farmhouse (Arthur Kill)
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