For nearly 50 years, Sybil’s in Queens has been a go-to spot for Guyanese soul food

Sybil’s is hard to miss in Little Guyana, the 30-block neighborhood in Richmond Hill, Queens.

The restaurant is tucked on a triangular street corner, and has an impossible-to-miss golden marquee that can be seen from blocks away.

Many in the Guyanese diaspora know it for its sweet pineapple-filled pine tarts; its flaky, circular beef patties; and pepperpot, an aromatic stew of meats and cassareep.

Th Richmond Hill location is part of a family empire started in 1976 by Sybil Bernard, her brother and her nine kids.

Today it’s run by Sybil's second-oldest child, 67-year-old Viburt “Cookie” Bernard. He has been working at the family business seven days a week since he was 19.

He was there around noon on a recent Thursday, when the lunch crowds started streaming in. Most customers already know the drill: rip a numbered ticket, wait to order.

Pastries like pine tarts get bagged; rotis get ladled with rich goat curry; balls of dalpuri (yellow split pea stuffed flatbread) dough get kneaded; and peanut butter gets blended into a thick, creamy peanut punch.

At this point in its history, Sybil’s might seem like a surefire success. But Viburt Bernard said the journey was tough.

“Things were never rosy for us,” he said. “My mom had to leave Guyana because she wanted a better life, like everybody else who comes to this country, right? She wanted that life for her children.”

Sybil Bernard, a single mother with an absentee husband, came to New York to establish a new foothold for the family in 1969, just three years after the United Kingdom granted Guyana its independence.

Viburt Bernard, then 12, lived with his uncle, who owned a bakery in Linden, Guyana. While he worked there, he picked up tips for making traditional pastries and learned how to run a bakery.

Two years later, his mom and another brother of hers brought Viburt Bernard and his siblings to New York. Sybil Bernard and all nine kids hunkered down in her brother’s house in Jamaica, Queens.

The bakery owner-uncle would also fly in from Guyana, and the family baked bread altogether.

In 1976, Sybil Bernard lost her job in Manhattan’s Diamond District and decided to give professional baking a shot. Every Friday night, Viburt Bernard’s cousin would take boxes of tennis rolls, pineapple tarts, cheese rolls, and dalpuri over to Brooklyn, and sell them at the barber shops.

“We started to see progress,” Viburt Bernard said. “So we took a chance.”

After two years, Sybil Bernard used her savings to take over the lease on a storefront on Hillside Avenue in Queens. By then, she had fans.

“We used to have a line in the store and down the block at that point,” said Viburt Bernard, looking back at that time.

Viburt Bernard would help out at his mom’s bakery after working full-time as a jewelry caster. All the kids baked; Sybil Bernard started cooking dishes, too.

Soon they expanded the menu to include curries, oxtail stew, black pudding, chow mein, and a Sunday pepperpot. And customers kept coming as more Guyanese people settled in Queens, fleeing the political and economic turbulence.

As the Hillside Avenue shop grew more popular, the family expanded the business.

Sybil’s grew into a small empire with new locations in Richmond Hill, Flatbush (now closed), and Lauderhill, Florida (opened by a sibling who moved south).

Today, Viburt Bernard helms the Richmond Hill location, which has become akin to a flagship for the Sybil’s brand.

Sybil Bernard passed away in 2000 and he tries to preserve her legacy.

“I knew that I was gonna take it as far as I can, as long as I can,” he said. “I told my mom that when she died.”

He wasn’t just referring to the restaurant’s fans – he was also referring to his staff.

His head baker Sheldon Hurry manages the bakers and operations and has worked there for 30 years. So has Rufo, the dalpuri specialist who can stuff and roll a fist-sized ball of dough in 12 seconds. So has Ann Jeet, who serves as the business’s accountant and manager.

“To start something — to have the vision and build the foundation — that is the hardest part,” he said. “My mom did that. And she did it well; she provided for a lot of people.”

His staff can attest to how seriously he tries to follow in her steps.

“We try to keep him off the floor," said Jeet. “But you know, this is his baby. This is his family. This is his everything.”