Staten Island’s is a history of hundreds of miles of oyster beds feasted upon by the Lanape Indians, and a still-thriving melting-pot tradition of New York City alive and well with Sri Lankan, Mexican, Polish, Albanian, Liberian and Chinese immigrants. Some of this newfound confidence comes from looking inward-a history of hundreds of miles of oyster beds feasted upon by the Lanape Indians and which greeted Henry Hudson in the early 17th century brewer barons who found Staten Island’s hilly terrain and water the perfect place to resurrect their European beer-making traditions a once-flourishing farming community and the still-thriving melting-pot tradition of New York City alive and well with Sri Lankan, Mexican, Polish, Albanian, Liberian and Chinese immigrants, among many others. The North Shore of Staten Island-where the ferry and the two-and-a-half-mile Verrazano-Narrows Bridge act as the island’s sole connectors to the rest of the city-has less Working Girl longing these days for the culinary delights across the bay.
Like many communities sequestered by water, the wheels of progress here chug along at a do-not-rush-me pace-perhaps it can seem even more pokey positioned in the shadow of the towering tip of a powerful, important metropolis, not to mention one of the most food-and-drink celebrated in the world.īut time stands stills for no place and no one. Things don’t happen quickly on Staten Island.
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