Fiesta Day in Ybor City

We all have large and small annual events we like to attend. You may already know of my affection for Tampa’s Gasparilla celebration. My other favorite Tampa event is just weeks later in the city’s historic Latin quarter, known as Ybor City. It’s Fiesta Day, a celebration of diverse ethnic cultures that influence and strengthen the area’s character. You can count on Spanish, Central and South American and Caribbean influences all coming together to make for a grand party.

For as many years as I can remember, the event followed Gasparilla Day by a week or two and always marked the last weekend of the the Florida State Fair. For whatever reason, it came later this year, on Saturday, February 28th. Maybe that was a blessing. The weather was perfect. Last year the event was cancelled due to rain.

I can’t quite say what distinguishes this event from so many like it. For me, I suspect it has to do with my youth. Both my parents worked just beyond Ybor City’s border and I attended kindergarten and elementary school there. Every week day, until I graduated from high school in 1972, there was a pretty good chance I drove through or near the area. Years later, I continued to shop there for Cuban bread, wine and Latin-influenced groceries. You can only imagine the changes I have seen through the years.

The event is free, parking is easier than ever with the new parking garages, and you may spend as little or as much as you want on food and drink. I just love walking from one end of La Septima to the other, and then back again, taking detours to visit vendors along the side streets and in Centennial Park. La Septima? No, I never called it that either. It means “the seventh,” referring to East Seventh Avenue. When I was young, we just called it Broadway. One of my father’s closest friends worked at the Broadway National Bank. That’s one way I remember the old name.

I won’t really brag about all there is too eat as you walk the street. Some food vendors are better than others. It was good to see Pipo’s serving roast pork, yellow rice and black beans (the Holy Trinty of Cuban Food), and no Fiesta Day is complete without sampling a cannoli or other Italian treats on the street in front of the magnificent Italian Club. But before you eat anywhere, you must enjoy a free bowl of Spanish Bean Soup, a piece of Cuban bread and a cup of “cafe con leche.” They dish it out at the western end of the street and it is some of the finest you will ever taste. It used to be only for out-of-town visitors. You had to show your driver’s license. My family didn’t move to the beach just to get free soup in Ybor City, but it was some consolation for being so far from somewhere I feel so close to. These days, the free soup is for everyone.

For many years, at the other end of Broadway, the bigger treat was the Columbia Restaurant’s annual spectacle of cooking the world’s largest paella. If I recall correctly, that, too, was free, at first. But even when they began to charge for it, you would be hard-pressed to eat better anywhere in the world. Somehow, I never made it to the other end of Broadway this year, which is a little disappointing, but I am not certain Columbia is making paella out on the street any longer, so it could be worse.

So after the free food, the things I liked best about this Fiesta Day was watching all the people, marveling at all the well maintained or restored architecture, hearing all of the Latin-influenced music, and ending up face down in a bowl of flan.

Say what?

In recent years, Fiesta Day has expanded significantly into Centennial Park, and now features a competition known as Flan Fest, where real people compete to create the most beautiful, and tasty flan, a carmel-crusted, egg custard dessert that is beloved in Spanish cultures. A local Spanish radio station was was holding a flan-eating contest, just as I was passing the stage. They called for volunteers and I didn’t hesitate to respond. With both hands behind my back, I sucked a complete flan from the bowl in just seconds. Alas, others apparently suck more than I do. It was good fun, and the flan was great, too!

Two of my favorite memories of Ybor City were the Silver Ring Cuban Sandwich Shop and Las Novadades Restuarant. Both are closed now, though the Silver Ring made a second go at it a couple of years ago, ironically, in the same building that began as Las Novadades. The building has housed any number of restaurants and night clubs through the years, including the provocative La Goya, if I remember correctly. Today it is home to The Nest, a Mediterranean Tapas and Pasta Bar which Elena and I agreed to try for a late lunch.

To begin with, this place has something of an identity crisis. A sign on the window directs you to a web site called thepastanest.com (the site seems to be under construction). The thing is, there isn’t any pasta on the menu. Speaking with the waiter, he indicated that customers didn’t respond well to the pasta offerings, so the restaurant is retooling. There are currently only five entrées on the menu for either lunch or dinner, but there are a respectable number of tempting tapas and salad offerings that seemed ideal for a late afternoon lunch following a face full of flan.

I ordered an Italian draught beer called 1812 ($5.00) and the Piquillos Rellenos ($7.00), three sweet Spanish peppers stuffed with mushrooms, spinach and goat cheese, all swimming in a pool of yellow pepper coulis. In a word, perfection. The beer was quite smooth and rich. Elena had the Arugula Salad ($7.00) with Manchego cheese, Granny Smith apples and walnut vinaigrette. The salad, too, was perfect. Served with bread and olive oil, the tab came to a mere $19.00, a fact I am certain our waiter found wanting. Still, we liked the place and how they had decorated it. I wouldn’t hesitate to return.

As we walked back to the car in the mid-afternoon sun, the blue sky offered sharp contrast to the aging, but beautiful, red brick buildings that make Ybor City so distinctive. It was a fine day, and if it fits your schedule next year, I recommend you go celebrate.

You are invited to see 36 of my favorite 2009 Fiesta Day photos on the Parsons-Wilson Picasa site.

The Pasta Nest (or maybe just The Nest, by the time you read this) is at 1430 East 7th Avenue, in Ybor City, just a block or two from the Centro Ybor Parking Garage.

Visiting Aldi, Switzerland

No, it is not some city in Switzerland, but it feels almost as foreign. I've been meaning to stop in and see what this generic-looking store was about. On my way back from the usual round of grocery stops, I gave it a try. I have to admit it was unsettling at first.

Right away, you feel like you're in a foreign country. Don't worry, all of the signs and labels are in English, but you won't recognize any of the brands. I had already explored nearly two aisles before I spotted a display of Pringles potato chips. Small comfort.

It's an upscale warehouse feel, clean and brightly lighted, with more boxes and less shelves. Prices are pretty good, but you simply don't have much to triangulate on to know what you're getting. There is just about everything you would find in a small grocery store, including produce, meats, frozen foods and dairy products.

I really hadn't planned on buying anything, but the low prices began to appeal to me. I hadn't grabbed a cart or basket, nor brought my own bag (it was already filled and in the car), so my arms were full by the time I got to the register where I encountered two more unsettling differences: Cash or Debit only (I'm a big fan of double points for groceries on my VISA Card), and no shopping bags. Like at Sam's Club, there were a few small, empty, cardboard boxes available to carry my goods out, so no worries.

I checked Aldi's web site and learned I might have been in for another unsettling surprise if I had reached for a grocery cart. They require a twenty-five cent deposit! Bring the cart back in, you get your quarter back. They also charge for grocery bags, but my cashier didn't offer to sell me one.

Their web site says that almost 95% of their "premium products are sold under exclusive ALDI select brands," meaning labels you won't recognize, or look suspiciously similar to familiar brands. I did chuckle when I saw soda called Mountain Mist in a familiar green and red can.

Still, I couldn't help sense a European influence, kind of like walking through an Ikea store or something. And then I found the discreetly-placed link to Aldi International. Indeed, they're in 17 European countries, including Switzerland. See? I told you so!

Bottom line: Yeah, give it a try. I really didn't see anything objectionable at all. But be warned that it will be a different, if not unsettling shopping experience at first. The prices are good though, so that may well make it worth the adjustment. Just remember to bring a quarter for the shopping cart, your own grocery bags, and enough cash or a debit card.

There are five Aldi stores in Pinellas County, two in Hillsborough County. I visited the one at 6700 66th Street in Pinellas Park.

In Praise of Babalu

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.