On a recent travel information-gathering trip, I stopped for lunch in Tarpon Springs, Fla., a Gulf Coast destination influenced significantly by its large Greek community. The first incorporated city on the Pinellas Peninsula, Tarpon Springs became a leader in sponge harvesting in the early 20th century. As thousands of experienced sponge fishermen and their families immigrated to the area from overseas, cafés and other businesses upholding the Greek way of life sprouted up along the waterfront. Over time, tourism gradually surpassed sponging as Tarpon Springs’ main industry, so photo-snapping visitors—often day trippers from Central Florida and the Tampa Bay area—now roam Dodecanese Boulevard, the main drag along docks once bustling with divers and sponge auction workers.

As a first-time visitor to Tarpon Springs, I didn’t really know what to expect. I mostly was excited about all the baklava I’d get to chow down on. While I did do some research prior to my visit, the scene that greeted me as I turned off North Pinellas Avenue (US 19) and onto Dodecanese Boulevard still caught me off guard. The first portion of the two-way street is lined by several parking lots manned by boisterous attendants, waving at passing vehicles and pointing to aging signs proffering sponge-diving exhibitions and sightseeing cruises of the area’s natural estuaries.

Brightly painted gift shops and eateries also flank the narrow, pedestrian-friendly lane. At the junction of Dodecanese and Athens Street—another thoroughfare dotted by a handful of homespun restaurants and tightly packed stores—there’s a change in scenery as the sponge docks come into view. Groups of retirees stroll along the water’s edge, surveying sturdy vessels crisscrossed by cords strung with natural sponges.

I was famished, so I headed straight to Hella’s Authentic Greek Bakery & Restaurant, one of the district’s most popular establishments. Although there’s certainly a lot to look at on Dodecanese Boulevard, Hella’s is easy to spot—a prominent cutout of a Greek soldier tops the building, which is painted blue and white to match the Greek flag. The same color scheme continues inside. Murals depict the mother country’s coastal landscapes, and distended clouds are painted on the ceiling. With parts of it open to the street, an alcove along the front of the eatery affords views of tourist-packed sidewalks. In another section of the ornate dining room, tables topped by pretty Mediterranean tiles encircle a water feature fronted by Grecian-style sculptures. 

Once I was seated, I asked my server which dishes he’d recommend to someone not overly familiar with Greek cuisine. I listened to his suggestions then ordered The Original Greek Salad for One (larger portions for parties of two and four also are offered) and the pastitsio, a baked casserole consisting of ziti, ground beef, eggplant and potatoes. I really wanted the Combination Platter, featuring pastitsio, a gyro (pita sandwich with minced lamb), mousaka (another casserole) and dolmades (grape leaves stuffed with meat and rice). But, for once, I erred on the side of caution. When I saw the generous helpings coming out of the kitchen, I knew I’d made the right decision. The single-size salad probably could feed two, with big hunks of feta cheese neatly arranged atop the lettuce. But, sadly, though the serving was large, the plate wasn’t, so one of my treasured pieces of feta swiftly fell onto the tabletop. Several other toppings also were lost to the floor during the salad-devouring process, but considering the first course was quickly filling me up, I didn’t mind too much.

After a few Coke refills, the pastitsio arrived, inexplicably with a serving of rice and a slice of cantaloupe. The extra starch just seemed like overkill to me, plus I wasn’t sure what the deal was with the melon. Was I supposed to combine bites of the pastitsio with spoonfuls of the fruit in order to create some mind-boggling flavor combination? First, I tried a bite of just the casserole alone. Although the nutty eggplant mixed with meat and cinnamon had my taste buds slightly confused, I liked it. I scooped up another piece, adding a bit of the cantaloupe to my sample. Not bad. And, actually, the rice pilaf also complemented the dish, as did the savory Greek-style potatoes. Even though I planned to leave only the over-salted, soggy green beans (the vegetable of the day) on my plate, regretfully, I could only finish half of the heavy meal.

After lunch I inspected the attached bakery. Neatly arranged within a series of glass cases, whipped cream-capped mousses and slices of seven-layer chocolate cake, anxious to be purchased and savored, screamed out “Eat me!” Then, of course, there was the pièce de résistance—the baklava. Dozens of prepackaged containers bordered the display area, with the sticky, nut-packed triangles inside nonchalantly attracting their prey.

Feeling very bloated and in need of a nap, the decadent desserts failed to capture my interest. So, promising myself I’d return for a few to-go sweets later, I went for a walk along Dodecanese. Teens in cut-off jean shorts lackadaisically browsed racks of knockoff Crocs while moms fitted younger siblings with pairs of the well-ventilated shoes. Standing beneath awnings advertising hand-rolled cigars and gourmet pastries, proprietors engaged in rapid-fire conversations with fellow natives, pausing now and then to beam at leisurely passersby. Overfilled bins of (what else?) natural sponges dominated every other storefront, with handwritten labels indicating the various prices.

If you visit, you’ll find many of the merchants hawk similar goods—from the usual tacky-tourist items (T-shirts, postcards and tropical accessories such as straw hats and sarongs) to loofas, shells and chamois. Bypass some shops so you’ll have time to stray off the beaten path; otherwise you may conclude Tarpon Springs residents simply appreciate murals (depicting everything from sharks to ancient Greek ruins), strappy footwear and gluttonous food portions. Those managing to stay awake after a big Greek banquet in Tarpon Springs find there’s plenty more to experience in this quaint Mediterranean-inspired village than just flaky, phyllo-layered desserts. (I should know—I never did get my baklava.)

From the historic sponge docks, ride the Tarpon Springs Trolley (operates Tues.-Thurs. and Sun. 11-5 and Fri.-Sat. 11-7) to the historic downtown area, where you can scan vintage treasures in antique stores along Tarpon Avenue. Take a tour of the Tarpon Springs Castle Winery, 320 E. Tarpon Ave., or attend a vibrant event overflowing with traditional Greek foods, music and dancing. The hub of many festivals—including January 6th’s elaborate and well-attended Epiphany celebration—is St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Cathedral. Located at the corner of Pinellas Avenue (US 19A) and Orange Street, the church boasts spectacular Neo-Byzantine architecture and is open to the public. There also are several recreational outfitters in the area, so rent a kayak and paddle along the Anclote River, or charter a boat for a day of deep sea fishing.