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Tampa: An 'Exploding Chicken' And So Much More

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The 'Exploding Chicken' sculpture in downtown Tampa is just one of the things that makes Tampa unique.

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By STEVE OTTO | The Tampa Tribune

Published: January 28, 2009

TAMPA - The Big Guava – so much to see.

In fact, sometimes it's even the things you don't see. How many of you in town this week drove in from the airport and didn't catch that weird sign once you go over the big overpass, the one that says "Tampa," then switches to "St. Petersburg" so that if you weren't fast enough — or didn't swerve in front of that car in the other lane — you found yourself on the Howard Frankland Bridge going to St. Petersburg?

I know some of you did. I've done it.

Maybe that's why there is that banner draped across the main terminal that says, "Welcome to Tampa Bay.'' We want you to see all of it, even the water.

Oh, yeah, Tampa is definitely different. If you drove into town on Interstate 75 or Interstate 4, you must have seen the giant Confederate flag. It is so big, astronauts can see it from the space station. OK, maybe not. But it is a biggie. It's kind of odd because there was only one battle fought here during the Civil War, and you would be hard-pressed to call it more than a skirmish.

If you came in on I-4, you also drove by that row of recreational vehicles planted in the ground, at an angle, by a local RV dealer. And he did that before gas went out of sight.

Oh, we've got lots of "public art'' around here. There's one on Bayshore Boulevard that looks like a Slinky and another at the end of Bayshore that at first you might think is a car wreck. There's even one on loan from somewhere else on the city's downtown Riverwalk that resembles a giant red slingshot.

You might hear about the Riverwalk, which is this linear walkway along the Hillsborough River and Garrison Channel downtown. It isn't finished, but if you go someplace specific such as the new Tampa Bay History Center, you can stroll outside along the channel, and it's pretty nifty.

A State Of Mind

By now you might be getting the idea that Tampa is as much a state of mind as a place. It's not quite Old South, although it has some of that feel. It's not a Florida tourist town, although there is Busch Gardens, and the beaches are minutes away. It has a little of the urban North, and many of us are transplants from those colder reaches. There are touches of Spain, Cuba and the Caribbean blended with the New South culture.

Let me apologize if Tampa doesn't look like the tropical paradise you might have expected. Back in 1984, when we hosted our first Super Bowl, they planted a bunch of palm trees, but a cold snap killed most of them. This year, the mayor says the city doesn't have a budget to turn this into a tropical paradise.

But, hey, it's not Pittsburgh. It's not Phoenix, either, and, in fact, a lot of people don't think it looks much like the Florida they have heard about. That's because Tampa is a real town, with a port and industry and neighborhoods and schools. The sprawling University of South Florida is on the northern edge of town, and you probably won't see it anyhow unless you go to Busch Gardens and get lost. It has close to 50,000 students and is changing our way of life. It doesn't look like a real university, but it is.

If you want to see a neat university, well that's the University of Tampa; the place with the minarets on the river downtown. It's in the news because Illinois Gov. Blagojevich spent a few semesters there studying something, although nobody seems sure what.

It's a great campus to wander around. If you are a sports trivia nut, go to the Sykes Business Building. On the front lawn is a plaque marking the final resting place of the longest home run ever hit, by Babe Ruth during an exhibition game at what was a baseball field down the street. From the campus you can look across the river at the downtown skyline. It's growing. The one that looks like a beer can is what we call "the beer can building.''

Scrambled Art

Next to the beer can building is Tampa's most notable artistic sculpture, "The Exploding Chicken.'' I took a lot of grief after giving the then-untitled piece that name. But look at it and tell me that's not what it is.

A little bit about food. I mean that's what this is all about isn't it? Do you really care about the game?

Every city has its food specialty. I know in Pittsburgh there is this place, Primanti Bros., where they make a gargantuan sandwich with french fries, cole slaw and tomatoes piled on whatever else you want. It is amazing.

I'm not sure what the specialty sandwich is in Phoenix, but my guess would be it has something to do with tortillas and cactus.

Our most famous restaurant is Bern's Steak House, where they serve steaks in a bordellolike setting. But if you didn't make reservations a year or so ago, you're not getting in, so forget about that one.

We are home to the first Hooters and the first Outback, but Tampa's culinary gift to the world is the Cuban sandwich. Miami likes to say it is responsible, but it doesn't know squat. They don't make these things in Cuba, either. But you need to have at least one Cuban while you're here, pressed, hot and served with a deviled crab and maybe a cup of Spanish bean soup.

You can get a real Cuban in lots of places. Valencia Garden, on Kennedy Boulevard near the minarets, is a good restaurant. Brocatos, off 50th Street near I-4, feeds about half of the city some wonderful Cubans every day. Castellano & Pizzo, on Henderson Boulevard in South Tampa, has a good one to take out.

My absolute favorite Cuban is Michelle Faedo's, which you never will find. The address is 3609 N. 15th St. on the northern edges of Ybor City. After you've been lost for a while, call them at (813) 247-3020, which is a good idea anyway because they have some odd hours.

Some Sidewalk

Tampa's jewel is the great sweep of Bayshore. You might have read that Bayshore has the world's longest unbroken sidewalk. This week, if you try to go down Bayshore, you won't be able to see much for all the bleachers and corn dog stands. That's because we are getting ready for Gasparilla.

Say what? Yes, Gasparilla. Think Mardi Gras with pirates. Super Bowl is a big deal, but around here it's something to do while getting ready for Gasparilla.

It's named after that great pirate Jose Gaspar, who never really existed so we had to make him up. The deal is that a week from this Saturday, Jose and his band of pirates will sail into town on that pirate ship you see out in Hillsborough Bay, along with a huge flotilla of non-pirate-looking craft, and take over the city after a parade. They do the same thing a couple of weeks later with a night parade in Ybor City, if you really want to live dangerously.

You probably will want to visit Ybor City. It used to be Tampa's Latin quarter before all the Latins moved to West Tampa, which is where you really want to go for good, cheap Spanish food. If you're hungry, try La Teresita or Arco-Iris, where you can get a mountain of chicken and yellow rice for less than you are going to pay to park anywhere near Raymond James Stadium.

But you do need to take a stroll down Seventh Avenue in Ybor and check out the historical tattoo parlors and nightspots.

You also need to buy some cigars.

Before Tampa was named the Big Guava by a legendary local newspaper columnist, it was known as the Cigar City, and you still can get a genuine hand-rolled stogie to light up at the right moment.

You probably will hear stories about the good ol' days when the Mafia and gangs ruled the city, There are tales of underground tunnels for gambling runners that lead through Ybor, and there still are a few bullet holes in walls if you know where to look.

That's all in the past, and these days we keep most of the shadier characters in elected office, where we can keep an eye on them.

The Naked City

Being naked is a big deal around here. It's a bigger deal in the summer, when the nudist camps in Pasco County north of Tampa seem to blossom, but Tampa also has gained an international reputation for its strip clubs. Our Web site, Tampa Bay Online, has a list and description of 40 or 50 clubs in town.

We are so into being naked that the Lingerie Bowl, a made-for-TV affair featuring women wearing underwear playing football, was canceled this week. It wasn't because of the undies-clad women. It was because the venue, a nudist resort, refused to force its fans to wear clothes near the event.

Drive along Dale Mabry Highway and you'll see clubs, including the most famous, the Mons Venus, which apparently has more than 300 strippers ready to take it off. Actually, this being Tampa, I'm not sure they take anything off. I don't think they have anything on for starters. There a similar place across the highway that has a flying saucer for a lounge.

Otherwise, most of the locals do wear clothes, although if you are wearing socks and something more than a T-shirt and shorts you are going semiformal.

Oh, there are a million stories here in the Naked City. I hope you have a good time finding them.

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