STATEN ISLAND, N.Y. — On a recent morning, as the breakfast crowd melted into the lunch rush, Mike Moudatsos wrapped up a meeting with a friend and took a moment to talk. It was a typical busy day for him, bouncing between diners and checking on things—the daily drill. He started at Mike’s Olympic Grill Diner, 1637 Forest Ave., in Port Richmond. Later, he said, he’d head to his Great Kills spot, Mike’s Place. For now, his wife Cathy supervised the bustling Unicorn Diner—a full house inside with a steady stream of third‑party drivers picking up orders at the door.
On this Tuesday morning, Moudatsos settled into a booth near the entrance. Customers drifted in and out, offering him a hello or a handshake, each greeting him by name. There was a reverence to it—quiet, familiar, deeply respectful. Mike ticked off a variety of reasons for closing Dakota. The first sounded simple, “Because it was too close to here. I have one diner here, another 10 blocks away.”
Dakota Diner has closed as Mike focuses on his three other diners—Mike’s Unicorn in Bulls Head, Mike’s Olympic Diner in Port Richmond and Mike’s Place in Great Kills. (Advance/SILive.com | Pamela Silvestri)
But proximity wasn’t the only issue. As for the Dakota Diner that just closed, Mike explained a longer arc of ownership and operation. “First I bought the building. Then I ran it for a while. I was supposed to close it, but the people wanted me to stay. Things changed about two or three years ago.”
The change, he said, was access with traffic patterns. “You couldn’t get into the diner. You had to come around from the other end of Richmond Avenue to the parking lot. The lot was too small. People didn’t want to cross the street, even though I rented out the lot across the way.” He shook his head at the geometry of it all and added, “For me, it’s better to close and rent it.”
And the late‑night crowd isn’t what it used to be, Moudatsos observed—especially after COVID. Still, Mike’s Unicorn and Olympic diners remain open 24 hours.
Mike’s diners have a distinct personality, and their architecture tells the story: stainless‑steel lines, chrome trim catching the light, and wide plate‑glass windows that frame the interior like a stage. (Advance/SILive.com | Pamela Silvestri)The look and spirit of the restaurants
Mike’s diners have a distinct personality—and their architecture tells the story. Diners generally owe their look to early 20th-century railroad dining cars: long, narrow silhouettes with gleaming stainless steel exteriors. Chrome trim catches the light, and large plate‑glass windows frame the interior like a stage. At the Olympic, the mirrored glass reflects a Forest Avenue that buzzes like a highway.
At Mike’s Olympic Diner, the name nods to Greece, but the design embraces classic diner charm with Mike’s proud flair. During the midday rush, sunlight streams through wide front windows, spotlighting the kitsch. Pink‑and‑black tiles stripe the floor as Port Richmond hums outside—Renato’s Bakery and a laundry across the street. Inside, taupe walls with marble‑like swirls frame brown‑cushioned booths, their star‑and‑moon motifs adding retro whimsy. Pendant lamps bounce light off mirrors, creating a kaleidoscope effect. Seating is everywhere, inviting anyone to grab a booth or perch on a chrome stool. Some nooks are made for powwows; others maybe for a lone diner enjoying eggs and a little solitude.
The specials on a typical Tuesday. (Advance/SILive.com | Pamela Silvestri)
The hand‑written daily specials run around $18.95—comfort food with a Staten Island accent. Today’s lineup ranges from a grilled cheese stacked with bacon and tomato to chicken Parm over spaghetti. And yes, there’s meatloaf, legendary among long‑time North Shore Staten Islanders.
Visually, the diner stands out on an otherwise bleak stretch of Forest Avenue near expressway. Brown stacked stone climbs the façade like stylized columns, and panels of reflective green glass shimmer like sea glass. The roofline sweeps into a neat curve, capped with bold Greek flourishes—because this is the Olympic, after all, once immortalized in a cameo in Rodney Dangerfield’s Easy Money. It is unmistakably Mike’s.
For those in the know of the film, Dangerfield strolls past what was then the Center Diner, its sign bragging “Open 23 Hours.” Today it runs for 18 hours. (Mike is toying with going full 24.) But the cameo endures.
This is what the Unicorn looks like inside with its warm glow and colorful touches. Moudatsos believes in good food quality, cleanliness and friendly service as a formula in all his restaurants. (Advance/SILive.com | Pamela Silvestri)‘I love to work’
Moudatsos, who is from Athens, Greece, has built a Staten Island reputation on an extraordinary work schedule that borders on myth.
“I work 20 hours a day, sometimes 22—seven days a week. My last day off was nine years ago, after my mom died in Greece,” he said.
“The thing is, I love to work. I try to do the best thing for the people. I have good quality food, a clean place, and good service. Good food is at the heart of it all.”
That hard‑core work ethic has carried him through more than five decades in the restaurant realm. In 1972, he worked at the Park Diner in New Dorp, eventually becoming manager at the latter. It is now Cantina Mexicana at 140 New Dorp Lane, a restaurant Moudatsos says he holds in high regard. He also logged countless hours at the former Go-Go Souvlaki King, Victory Diner and National Terrace before opening his first place on New Dorp Lane in 1974.
In the mid-1970s, Moudatsos bought and operated Ann’s Coffee Shop on New Dorp Lane for five to six years—the spot that later became Mike’s Diner. He went on to run the Bayonne Diner in New Jersey for about five years starting around 1980, and he also operated Mike & Nicky’s in Great Kills. Among other restaurants, he has owned the Hylan Boulevard diner—formerly Russo’s—since 1993. He sold the New Dorp Mike’s Diner in 2017; later that year, a fire broke out under the new owners. Mike Sr. repaired the damage, but the building remains unoccupied, its future undecided. Today, his son Mike Jr. steers the popular Oakwood and Richmond diners, extending the family brand into the next generation.
And Mike? As he moves from table to booth to counter at the Olympic, he chats with Alma, the hostess at the reception station. She came from the Dakota and greets regulars one by one. Mike will be back here tomorrow morning for sure—or maybe later today. He’ll definitely head to Great Kills and then maybe the Unicorn. He’ll do it again and again, because this is what he does.
“I love to work,” he had said earlier, quietly. “Good food is at the heart of it all.”
Dakota is dark—but Mike’s lights around the Island still glow.