Being that Leo's ain't in JH, it might not properly belong in this forum, but had I read about it here 4 years ago instead of finding it last month on a whimsical decison to turn up 104th street during a run along Corona Avenue, all those years of shlepping out to Astoria for my Italian foods could have been saved (no offense Italian Farms).
Aside from bagels, the only food theme where I unabashedly wear the rank of food snob is Italian food (e.g. I think all bbq is fantastic!). That's why I was so damned happy that when I asked for caciocavaddu out of habit, they knew exactly what I was talking about. And they backed it up: it had the perfect moisture, perfect taste and perfect texture, as good as you are going to find outside of sicily). Their mozzarella is also wonderful and their breads are solid and so far at the bakery next door, I've had their rum/cannoli cake, eclairs, cannolis and fruit tarts, all of which were excellent. We are going to order a proper Sicilian Cassata from them in a couple of weeks.
But two things set it apart:
First, they have a supercute outdoor backyard, replete with white painted metal chairs, rose bushes, water fountain and a fresco painting splashed across the back wall. It's worth it to go there to just soak in a piece of quickly disappearing history on Corona. Serene and lovely.
Second, when my wife and I left the bakery today, we peeked inside the windows of the latticini (it's closed on sundays). As we were looking at the macaronis, one of the women sitting in the chairs nearby got up and said hello. It was the owner. The family still lives upstairs and they wile away their sundays old school, hanging out in front their shop. We chit chatted a bit, found out that they sell their sandwiches at Shea during ballgames. It was just so freakin nice to see that that sort of thing hasn't completely disappeared from the days of our parents.
Anyways, give it a go atleast once. It disturbed us that we were the only ones today enjoying the delicous (and cheap) pastries and coffee in the yard. I don't want a place like that to disappear.