I first ate lunch at Babalu in the early 1990s, shortly after I moved my firm’s offices to Fourth Street North in St. Petersburg. I’m not certain what exactly persuaded me to try the place. A sign out front exalted their tackiness for years. I’m guessing what drew me into the small, bright yellow building with red trim were the cars that jammed the parking lot every day—a good sign at any restaurant. Upon entering, it was easy to be underwhelmed. Stained wooden walls, uncomfortable plywood booths, an old bar lined with stools that divided two dining rooms, and dim lighting all signaled this place was a dive. There was no window in the back dining room...just an air conditioner installed into the wall and a TV set on a corner shelf. A couple of white boards conveyed the day’s specials.
Make no mistake, Babalu earned my trust and my loyalty the first day I ate there. For many years since (at least even-numbered election years), I was a regular every week for either lunch or dinner. Some time in the last decade I adopted a waitress named Holly. If she was not there (a rarity), or if all of her tables were taken, there was a good chance I might eat elsewhere that day. Of course she would always serve me at the bar, and that was usually an acceptable compromise.
I won’t claim to be an expert about the restaurant businesses, but I’ve always imagined that the smart owner knows when to change, and when to leave things alone. Babalu has done far more of the latter. For years, they featured various All-You-Can-Eat specials at dinner. When they discontinued that practice, I know a customer or two they lost, but only for a couple of years. As the economy headed south in the last year, Babalu was among the first and the few to introduce a robust budget menu to keep patrons loyal and well-fed.
There are a number of “specials” every day that are so predictable, I know when I will eat there, and what I will be ordering. Thursday’s Roast Pork Dinner became something of a weekly, religious observance. Sadly, they changed their recipe about a year ago, and I switched my allegiance for pork to a competitor down the street. I haven’t been back on a Thursday for some time now.
Another notable menu feature is Babalu’s recognition of people on diets. Maybe the Atkins’ Diet isn’t for everyone, but they’ll gladly limit your carbs and load you up with lots of protein (some would say fat), offering different specials each day.
Many a day, and more than a few nights, members of our firm would hold court at one of Holly’s tables in the back room. I knew where the TV’s remote control was kept and could choose the channel of my liking. Sometimes it was baseball, sometimes it was some of our nation’s most important breaking news. No matter how many, or how few other customers were there, it seemed rather like our own private dining room.
On a few occasions, I would risk taking a client to Babalu for lunch or dinner. The look on their face as I led them into the dark and dingy back dining room was predictable. Holly never missed a beat, recognizing that I was accompanied by someone who might be “important,” she won them over with good service and a sense of loyalty that is all to rare in restaurants these days.
The most striking change at Babalu began about a year ago, and it struck fear in my heart: total renovation. They stripped the wood from the walls and replaced them with beige and pastel stucco. New windows were installed at the front of the restaurant and natural light now pours into the room and bounces from the walls. They hung lights, too, and installed flat-screen televisions. The old bar was removed and replaced with a modern, new version that now fills the back room.
Frankly, we watched in horror as more and more each day, Babalu began to take on the appearance of (gasp) a fern bar restaurant.
Holly was not happy. She lost tables (and tips) from the back dining room. She serves at the bar and now has only two tables. She still doesn’t sound happy about the change, but she is still a good part of the reason we return, dutifully waiting our turn for one of her tables.
The good news is that Babalu has left the most important ingredient of their apparent success alone. Their menu remains surprisingly long and rich with comfort food at reasonable prices. Though certainly not gourmet, there really is something for every appetite. If you don’t mind casual, this is as safe a bet for lunch or dinner as any restaurant I know in this part of town. And they deliver, too!
I joined my business partner for lunch at Babalu yesterday. We had not been back since our “election season” ended last November. Holly greeted us like dear friends, lamenting how it had been so long since she had seen us. Tim swears by Babalu’s tuna salad sandwich. Predictably, I had the Wednesday pot roast special, subbing “double-veg” for the mashed potatoes and gravy and passing on the dinner roll. And yes, that’s bacon in those green beans. It doesn’t get much better than this. As dining out becomes more of a luxury with every passing day of this sour economy, Babalu was packed with so many patrons, I had to park a block away on the side street.
Thank God they haven’t hung ferns yet, and I do miss my “private dining room” out back, but the heart and soul of Babalu remains strong, as does my trust and loyalty.
Babalu is located at 9246 4th Street North, St. Petersburg.
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