Staten Island Restaurant Tour, Part XXX: The Stone House (Clove Lakes Park)

High-end restaurant on an island between two lakes.

This is the 30th episode of the Staten Island Restaurant Tour and the first to feature a restaurant situated not in a neighborhood but in a park. Up to this point island parks have been disappointing — with a few notable exceptions such as the Freshkills landfill-turned-park and the East Shore’s gorgeous boardwalk and beaches. But as soon as I entered Clove Lakes Park…

…at the corner of Clove Road and Victory Boulevard…

…I was seduced by the green oasis and its many gorgeous sights.

Park and recreation.

Yes, we’re still in the city. You can see a building peeping through the trees at upper right. But you can also see ducks at lower right.

At the base of the bending trunk.

I decided to stick around and enjoy the park with fellow parkgoers, following this jogger over the arched bridge that eventually would take me back to the restaurant (top pic and further down).

Crossing the bridge.

Clove Lakes Park is named after three lakes, laid end to end, of which the largest and southernmost is — well, Clove Lake. I followed this path along the water, feeling better and better.

And thinking, can this be real?

The three lakes are the descendants of Clove Brook, which originated as a spring in the nearby neighborhood of Sunnyside and was dammed in 1825 to create mill ponds for the lumber industry, according to the Hidden Waters blog (and book). This might be a heron but is more likely an egret. I took a few more shots before it hid in the undergrowth.

It may have suspected fowl play.

The name Clove is derived from the Dutch kloven (cleft), which is fitting, given that the lumber industry basically took a giant cleaver to the brook to create the ponds which we now call lakes. Their waters chuckled peacefully.

The sound was so soothing, I also shot video of this.

The city acquired the land for Clove Park and adjacent Silverlake Park in the early 1920s following passionate advocacy from three gentlemen including Frederick Law Olmsted, who landscaped Central Park and a bushel of other great urban parks. Below, at right, you can see Silverlake Park’s single large lake. At left you can see Clove Lake Park’s three little ones: Clove Lake, Martling Lake, and Brooks Lake.

Clove Lakes Park at left, Silverlake Park at right.

Another parkgoer wandered into my shot as I crossed a bridge at the top of Clove Lake where it began its transition to the next one north, Martling Lake. It just felt great to be alive on this peaceful, sunny, early June afternoon.

Wooden bridge across Clove Lake.

At times the interconnected lakes narrowed to back to the streams they once were. Elsewhere in Staten Island these streams would be would be named with the Dutch word kill, but here they are just designated as part of the lakes. The park is basically lake into stream into lake into stream into lake. The waters were slow moving and brackish, yet still reflected the sky and the trees.

The magic of water on a sunny day.

When my phone camera overheated, I got unintentional art shots. I prefer this one to the in-focus shot I later got of a similar sign. It warns of harmful algae blooms and warms people not to wade, fish, or drink.

If you drink the water, this is what happens your eyesight.

Aquatic looking-glass view of Martling Lake, looking north from the bridge toward Martling Avenue, which crosses the park.

Mirrored vista.

The dam was unlikely to have been named after Jackie “The Joke Man” Martling, once a fixture on Howard Stern. He wasn’t born until 1948. I won’t try your patience with too many more beauty shots. These blogs have really gained weight since I’ve begun doing them. Not sure if that means I’m getting better at this or worse.

Plaque on bridge over Martling Dam.

Beyond Martling Dam is Brooks Lake, the northernmost of the three. This is it at the top of the park, just before I turned around, if I’m not mistaken — and if I am mistaken, I’ll be embarrassed. I was definitely tired and sweaty by this time and looking forward to lunch.

Probably Brooks Lake.

Heading back down to the southern end of the park. You might think that this is how they make stonewashed jeans. But you’d be mistaken.

You can’t stonewash jeans in brackish water. Duh.

These tall grasses may be Japanese stiltgrass. They are seen everywhere on the island, not just in parks, and are considered invasive, wiping out local vegetation. But the park does have its share of the latter, including lots of red oak trees and the world’s largest tulip tree.

Pretty but doesn’t belong here.

I encountered another guy shooting pictures with his phone, though he was more systematic about it — using a tripod. No shaky art shots for him. “Still or video?” I asked. Still, was the answer. We agreed that the park is an amazing place and it’s easy to get lost. Google Maps can’t get a signal much of the time even on a 5G phone. Luckily the layout is fairly simple. I walked up one side of the park and down the other.

Photog at work.

The restaurant was just beyond the arched stone bridge, upper right. I hardly ever shoot videos on these walking tours — I’m not a great videographer — but on this idyllic day I shot nine of them, largely to capture the sounds of rushing, burbling, or chuckling waters, here tumbling over rounded rocks.

Wood, stone, water.

Look between the bridge and its reflection on the lake and you’ll see another waterfall.

It was as though the lakes were speaking to me.

It’s over there, it’s over there, as Talking Heads would say in “Don’t Worry About the Government” from More Songs About Buildings and Food.

I’m all about the buildings and food.

And there it appeared, nestled behind the flowers. The Stone House was built in the early 20th century as a boathouse. It is now a restaurant, The Stone House at Clove Lakes.

A sight for sore feet.

Boat rentals were available nearby, but I didn’t see any boats, so here’s a diagonal shot of the building.

No sailing today.

The Bread & Butter Hospitality family of restaurants also includes numerous other restaurants, mainly in Staten Island, but also in New Jersey and upstate New York.

I probably have walked past many of them.

Another sign outside warned that diners must be “properly attired.” I asked if my jean shots and sweaty T-shirt qualified and was assured that there was a seat in the mostly empty restaurant just for me. Here’s an overheating-phone pic of the bar. I have worked for years, honing my craft, to produce this kind of art shot.

The results speak for themselves.

View from my table as I sat down, relishing the air conditioning. Behind me, a middle-aged woman was patiently feeding a bearded young man with some disability I am not expert enough to diagnose. He enjoyed making loud sucking sounds on his straw and emitted loud yelps at odd intervals.

Just a few fellow diners on this Monday mid-afternoon.

View to the side of my table. “Don’t worry,” I told her, “I’m enjoying it.” And really, I didn’t mind at all. It was a “there but for the grace…” moment following a stellar day wandering among the lakes.

I sat there, feeling happy and taking pictures.

I went for a hike (another hike) up a dramatically steep flight of winding stairs which regrettably I didn’t have the presence of mind to photograph. The upstairs dining area with its beamed cathedral ceiling was drop-dead gorgeous.

The view on a busy Saturday night or weekend brunch would impress a date.

When I first sat down, a server brought two glasses of water — not because I was a twofer, but because it was a hot day. I appreciated the gesture, drained half of one glass, and went off to the Gents.

The facilities were classy.

When I returned, the half-empty glass was missing. “What happened to my second glass?” I asked, half-joking. I was soon rewarded with an entire carafe!

Really, I’m not a hardass with waitstaff.

The sandwich came and earned its stiff price. It was a magnificent hunk of real lump crabmeat — unlike every other crabcake sandwich I’ve ever had.

From the side.

A good high-end restaurant will serve the real thing in a crab cake platter. The sandwich you’d get in a cheaper restaurant, or the “crab cakes” in a supermarket, are just (non-shell-) fish and filling with little or no crab.

Moving overhead.

Served on Ritz Pretzel crust, which resembled an egg and poppyseed roll, it was topped with grilled pear and fennel slaw. The slaw had loads of crunch and a nice mix of sweet and acidic flavors.

The bun is ready for its closeup.

Served with what looked like an escarole salad with grape tomatoes that exploded in my mouth with juicy tomato flavor.

Supermarket tomatoes can’t pull that off.

It was a hot day, I had sweated as I’d hiked along the lakes, and if the restaurant hadn’t been so awesome about supplying tap water, I might have had to ask the dude admiring Lady Liberty through the smog for the bottle hanging out of his back pocket. But no need. I was rehydrated, full of crab, and feeling good at the end of another day in New York’s Secret Borough.

Hipster with hip flask.

Previously on the Staten Island Restaurant Tour:

Part I: Angelina’s (Tottenville)

Part II: Fina’s Farmhouse (Arthur Kill)

Part III: Laila (Richmond Valley)

Part IV: Il Forno (Pleasant Plains)

Part V: Breaking Bread (Prince’s Bay)

Part VI: Woodrow Diner (Huguenot)

Part VII: Il Sogno (Annadale)

Part VIII: Riva (Eltingville)

Part IX: Marina Cafe (Great Kills)

Part X: Do Eat (Bay Terrace)

Part XI: Canlon’s (Oakwood Heights)

Part XII: Prince Tea House (New Dorp)

Part XIII: Inca’s Peruvian Grille (Grant City)

Part XIV: Colonnade Diner (Jefferson Avenue)

Part XV: Baci (Dongan Hills)

Part XVI: Chinar on the Island (Old Town)

Part XVII: Cinco de Mayo (Grasmere)

Part XVIII: Phil-Am Kusina (Clifton)

Part XIX: Lakruwana (Stapleton)

Part XX: Pier 76 (Tompkinsville)

Part XXI: Chang Noi Thai (St. George)

Part XXII: Mike’s Unicorn Diner (Bulls Head)

Part XXIII: Melt Shop (New Springville)

Part XXIV: Da Noi (Travis)

Part XXV: Big Nose Kate’s Saloon (Rossville)

Part XXVI: The Manor (Manor Heights)

Part XXVII: Luk & Bart Homemade Food (Mariners Harbor)\

Part XXVIII: Rinconcito Paisa (Graniteville)

Part XXIX: New Dinette (Port Richmond)

If you’re enjoying the Staten Island Restaurant Tour, please follow my blog by clicking follow next to my name at the top. Then subscribe to get emails on new episodes. You can also subscribe to the SIRT channel on YouTube. For offline reading, the first 21 episodes of the SIRT are available as an ebook. See you soon!