Welcome, welcome, welcome, one and all, tall and small, to the finest show on Earth, the fight that puts the 'fast' in breakfast. That's right, ladies and germs, it's the first ever Baaatle of the Breaaaakfasts in a Booooowl! In this corner, serving handmade granola and tasty pastries, coming all the way from 230 Fourth St. N., it's … the 4th Street Granola Bar! And in this corner, the new kid on the 600 block, dishing up Trix and Lucky Charms, hailing from 611 Central Ave., it's … The Surreal Bowl! Get ready for a bowl-by-bowl bout to the brimful! Now watch out folks, and dear lord, HOLD ONTO YOUR SPOOOOOOOONS!
A few things you should know about the Battle of the Breakfasts that's shaping up in downtown St. Petersburg: 1. There is no battle. I made it up. 2. Until last week, the two shops didn't know even about each other. 3. Cereal puns are fabulously easy to make. 4. The fact that downtown St. Pete may be in a position to support not one, but two specialty cereal restaurants confirms, in some roundabout way, that St. Petersburg is actually becoming a hip city. 5. This fact is incredible.
Lara and Tim Newman could've gone anywhere. Lifelong entrepreneurs, the couple was tired of the three-hour commutes in L.A., and wanted to move and open a coffee shop. They could've gone anywhere, and they came to St. Pete. "It's got a beach, a music scene, and artists," says Lara from behind the counter at The Surreal Bowl, which opened on Jan. 25. "Plus, we could buy a house."
"It was a no-brainer," echoes her husband Tim.
So they packed up, drove cross country and started looking for a space for their coffee shop. Nothing was open downtown, so the couple started checking out Gulfport. A deal was almost done when Lara took one more drive down Central. She saw the 'For Lease' sign at 611. "I was elated," she says. "And relieved. It just seemed meant to be."
She and Tim started working on the place, which was run-down after years of being used for storage. A month in, the couple was watching Deep Space Nine and talking about what sort of food to serve. Oh yeah, and guess what they were eating.
"Cereal jumped out of our bowl and into our face," Lara says. It took about two seconds to come up with the name; remember, cereal (or surreal) puns come easily.
The Surreal Bowl, and the Newmans, fit right in on the 600 block next to Daddy Kool Records, Star Booty and the State Theater. Local art hangs on the wall. Retro Popeye cartoons flicker in the corner. The couple is keeping the music eclectic and innocuous for now — Frank Zappa, Johnny Cash, B.B. King — because they're not quite sure exactly who the cereal clientele is.
"It's for those that are just getting teeth, those that take them out at night, and everyone in between," Lara says optimistically.
Ultimately, the Newmans hope that hipsters and college kids will get into the campiness of eating a $2.25 bowl of Cap'n Crunch after a concert or before class. They've got 15 varieties — everything from Kashi to yogurt-covered Cheerios to (how could you in good conscience open a cereal bar without 'em?) Cocoa Puffs. For your $2.25 you can throw on a topping as well. More of a Kashi kinda guy? Go fresh fruit or cranberries. Interested in exactly how quick it'll take your heart to stop? Plop some Oreos on top of them Cocoa Puffs. It's all dished up in killer lopsided bowls the couple found on Ebay — eat out of one and Rice Krispies suddenly feel like a delicacy.
The Newmans aren't the first folks to think serving cold cereal was a hot idea — a place called The Cereal Bowl (where's the fun in that name?) opened in Miami earlier this month, and a chain called Cereality has shops in Philadelphia and Chicago. The Newmans aren't even the first folks to think of it in St. Pete.
Margaret Guidicessi couldn't sell her granola fast enough at the Saturday Morning Market. A former chef at Mazzarro's, Margaret was moving 200 pounds of her handmade concoctions every Saturday morning. The market has remained her primary business, even after opening The 4th Street Granola Bar in November. "I sell more at the market than I do all week here," she says, standing behind the wooden bar at her small shop, the smell of melting brown sugar and coffee wafting around her.
Margaret's not exactly what you'd expect — sure, a rusted-out peace sign hangs near the granola bars (4th Street Granola Bar, get it?), but her seven-mile-long Excursion is parked out back. "My mom says I'm a hippie-yuppie chick," she laughs. And her customer base has been just as surprising. Originally, Margaret figured she'd be feeding, well, crunchy, granola types. But most of the folks who come in for her eight varieties of granola, fresh-squeezed apple juice and baked goods (Cashew Chocolate Twirls, anyone?) have been women from Old Northeast.
And business is booming. Margaret's hoping to get into health food stores, though she's quick to point out that her stuff isn't low-fat — "I make it all with real butter and real maple syrup," she says. She's already had interest from potential franchisers, and she'd like to open her own gourmet store someday. But for now, the first-time entrepreneur is happy just paying the bills and being a part of downtown's resurgence.
"Being down here at this time, everyone feels really connected as a community," says the native New Yorker, whose high energy makes her a natural behind the bar. "You feel like you're a part of something. It's getting more metropolitan, more cosmopolitan."
Of course, we already knew that was happening. With condos going up and vacant lots disappearing, downtown's not just a cool place to hang out, it's a place where you can make some money. But if both The Surreal Bowl and The 4th Street Granola Bar can make it — if the Battle of the Breakfasts in a Bowl never has to be fought — that might mean that downtown St. Pete has actually arrived. Because only a successful city has enough extra people to support a business as extra as a cereal bar. You know, the big boys — Chicago, Philly, Miami and, apparently, St. Pete.
This article appears in Feb 1-7, 2006.