
Legacy
Image Courtesy of Colombia Restaurant
By Dayana Melendez
The first thing I notice isn’t the ornate tiles or the polished wooden bar. It’s the sound of a pitcher — glass tapping gently against ice — as a server mixes sangria for a nearby table. The citrus peel hits the rim, the wine pours in a slow ribbon, and for a moment the whole room smells like oranges and old stories. At The Columbia Restaurant, even the smallest gestures feel like they’ve been happening for more than a century.
My husband and I step farther into the maze of dining rooms, each one glowing in warm light and framed by hand-painted Spanish tiles. The restaurant feels alive even in its quietest corners, like the walls themselves remember every birthday, proposal, argument, and late-night meal that’s unfolded here since 1905. A server in a crisp white jacket nods as we pass, carrying a tray with the confidence of someone who has walked these halls for decades.
📍 Location: 2117 E 7th Avenue, Tampa (Ybor City)
🍽 Signature Dish: The 1905 Salad
👨👩👧👦 Family Legacy: The Gonzmart family, now fifth generation
🕰 Founded: 1905
💬 Motto: “A Florida tradition since 1905.”
We start with the thing everyone tells you to order: the 1905 Salad. There is something theatrical about the way it comes together. The server tosses it at our table, the dressing whisked with sharp vinegar and garlic that fills the air for a split second before settling into the greens. It’s simple, but it’s also unmistakably theirs — a dish that could only survive this long if people kept coming back for it.

For our entrées, we share the Ropa Vieja. The shredded beef is soft enough to fall apart under a fork, cooked in tomato, wine, and a slow patience that can’t be faked. Between bites, you can hear the faint sound of a flamenco dancer warming up in the adjoining room, the steady tap of her heels traveling through the tile floor.
The white cava sangria is bright and refreshing, not too sweet, and easy to sip as we take in the room around us — a gallery of family photos, matador portraits, and century-old recipes that trace the Hernandez and Gonzmart family’s journey from a small immigrant café to one of Florida’s most iconic restaurants.
The Columbia is elegant, but never intimidating. Grand, but never cold. It feels like a place shaped just as much by the regulars who’ve been coming for 40 years as by the generations of family who continue to run it. If there’s any drawback, it’s the long pauses between courses during busy hours. But here, waiting feels almost appropriate. This is not a restaurant built around urgency. It’s built around staying awhile.
Historic photos courtesy of Tampa Through Time Portal
There are parts of Tampa that changed rapidly — factories turned to condos, cigar warehouses to offices — but The Columbia remains its constant. A place where Cuban and Spanish flavors, immigrant histories, and family rituals are preserved not behind glass, but on plates that still make their way across the same floors walked by generations before.
Some restaurants succeed because they’re new. The Columbia succeeds because it never tried to be. And that, in Ybor City, is its real brilliance.






