As a result, they said, old-fashioned restaurants like the Capri  think iceberg lettuce, not arugula  had become especially appealing because they offered consistent value, and it was not just the early bird’s filet mignon for $12.95. It was also the respectful treatment  the waiters in ties, the greetings of “Mr.” and “Mrs.,” the effort to remember the orders of regulars, and letting everyone stay as long as they wanted.

“When you go out now, you have to have a plan,” said Gary Green, 34, who married into the family after leaving Jamaica. At the Capri, he said, “there’s less risk.”

Katherine Slater, the restaurant’s only diner with a nose stud and dyed red hair, said she had only recently begun to understand what her elders saw in such places. “When I was young, 18, I was like, why would I want to go out to dinner there with my parents and my grandparents?” she said. “Now I’m 21. I appreciate it.”

Nearly everyone in the state feels a little poorer these days  with unemployment at its highest rate since 1975 and real estate values continuing to drop. That insecurity has reshaped the local mindset, say many Floridians under 55, and taken the shame out of scrimping.

For instance, Cassandra Eriser, 35, an aesthetician with cover girl looks who works giving facials at a South Beach spa, is not what most people imagine when they think early bird. But there she was at Cafe Prima Pasta on a recent Sunday at 5:30 p.m., finishing up a meal of tilapia with her boyfriend, a musician with a shaved head.

With wine and tip, the couple spent less than $25 each.

“It’s a great way to try a new restaurant without forking over a lot of money,” Ms. Eriser said.