A glutton's guide to Barcelona

There are many things to be written about Barcelona. I could talk about Catalan language and culture, Gaudí's wacky architectural experiments, the views from Park Güell, the labyrinthine cobbled streets of the Old Town, its cosmopolitan soul. But really what paved the route of our long weekend there were all the foods we encountered on the way. 

Day 1

On our first morning we arise early to blue skies and empty streets in the El Born neighbourhood, which has an old town charm but is just a stone's throw from the beach. Our first food stop of the city is Hofmann's Patisserie for their famous marscapone-filled croissant. Finding a seat in the sunshine opposite the El Born Centre de Cultura i Memoria, we munch on these glazed delights. They are not too rich, with just the right amount of creamy filling, and a light dusting of cocoa on top. 

After a morning wondering around El Born and the beach (where one of us took a brave dip in the February sea) it is time for something more substantial. On an unassuming street near La Barceloneta is Can Paixano, a rustic bar serving grilled and fried Catalan meats in sandwich and tapas form. We split two entrepans (literally meaning "between bread"); one butifarra (catalan sausage) and one sobrasada (chorizo paste) and roquefort. It is weighty and no-nonsense, like the Catalan version of a motorway burger van. Washed down with a 2 euro glass of their homemade Cava, we are sent into a delicious food coma. 

For dinner we are recommended La Paradeta, a restaurant where you select fresh fish from the front counter, which is cooked simply and served alongside a big salad and fresh bread rolls. We choose a selection of calamari, tuna steak, and langoustines with allioli, romesco, and tartare sauce. I've not seen this style of restaurant before, which somehow manages to be both high-brow and incredible simple at the same time. There is a wide array of fresh fish and shellfish that might cost an arm and a leg anywhere else, but in such an unpretentious environment the whole experience feels like a simple pleasure.

Day 2

After an underwhelming breakfast of overripe fruit from a corner shop we deliberately overcompensate at Bar Joan, a locals' spot in the Mercat de Santa Caterina. We take a seat at the bar, alongside a mixed array of Barcelonians, some dining solo whom we assume are on their long lunch breaks. The waitress recommends fried chorizo, la bomba (a fried meat and potato ball topped with aioli) and pan con tomate (fresh bread rubbed with tomato, olive oil and salt), which we graze with olives, fried anchovies and two vermouths. Along the bar other customers follow their tapas with coffee and postre (pudding). so naturally we do the same. Two bombones (condensed milk + espresso) and a flan de cafe later, and we find ourselves in another feasty daze. 

Rather than siesta, we wonder through the Gothic Quarter, somehow builidng up an appetite again. On our stroll we pass by La Pineda, a charcuterie on my list of foody places. We order crisps with Salsa Espinaler, a vinegary Catalan hot sauce. The salty/spicy combo reminds me of the popcorn doused in chilli sauce that you get in the Mexico City metro. 

We head out for the evening with our host and his colleagues to a jam night at Bar Rouge. On the way we pick up sandwiches at Conesa, a takeaway joint which we have previously avoided due to the "visual" menu. Apparently you should generally avoid establishments which feature pictures of the food on their menu. That said, these meaty sandwiches are cheap, pretty tasty, and line out stomaches well for the night ahead. 

Day 3 

After an ample serving of hangover fry-up made by our host, we take a very late train to Montserrat, a monastery located up a mountain just an hour outside the city. We pick up picnic fare from Mercat de Santa Caterina on the way and manage to catch the last cable car up to the monastery, where we enjoy an extravagant picnic overlooking the valley below. "Que fiestucon!"* a passer-by exclaims, as we gorge on fuet (cured sausage), goats cheese, sundried tomatoes, artichokes, olives wrapped in anchovies, and an undeserved bottle of Cava. Realising we have sacrificed the last cable car to eat this ridiculous meal, we resort to hitchhiking our way back to the train station. Luckily a friendly couple from Badalona (just along the coast from Barcelona) give us a lift back down the winding mountain roads. 

Back in the city, our hosts suggest Fast Eddie's for dinner, an American-style joint serving a small menu of burgers and fries. We all get chicken burgers served in brown paper with garlicky mayo that oozes out the side. We drink beers from cardboard cups. This is another no-nonsense type of place, maybe not authentically Catalan, but authentically Barcelonian in its international spirit. 

*roughly translates as "What a party!" 

Day 4 

Before an 11am walking tour of the Gothic Quarter we enjoy a breakfast of chocolate and melindros at Granja Dulcinea. Tourists are usually more familiar with churros and chocolate, but I prefer the melindro for dipping. Its more of a sponge finger which soaks up the chocolate more easily than a churro, and leaves your hands feeling slightly less greasy. 

Our tour guide Albert, a Barcelona native, recommends a tapas place called El Perikete just around the corner from Can Paixano. With lively music and a colourful exterior, this venue is not as modest as its neighbour in appearance. Keen to sample another bomba, we order two along with scallops, patatas con allioli, and a sobrasada, goats cheese and honey sandwich. And vermouth of course. Safe to say, this is probably the best tapas of our trip. The bomba is crispy on the outside, contrasting with the warm inside meaty filling and refreshing allioli. The patatas con allioli, normally a pretty basic dish, somehow transforms the humble potato salad into a creamy, garlicky delight. The scallops are smokey and fresh. As for the sobrasada sandwich, I didn't think that the marriage of goats cheese and honey could be improved until I tried this holy trinity.

Despite the delicious lunch, I am greedy for postre and coffee. This being our last day we have to try the cinnamon roll at Demasié, another recommendation from our hosts. Demasié has a huge arrange of cookies, and cinnamon-style rolls in a range of mad flavours like cheesecake, matcha, and Biscoff. We keep it simple with a classic cinnamon roll which we enjoy in a sunny square watching some buskers play Elton John.

As it is Sunday and our last evening, our hosts very generously make us dinner, South-African style. First course is roast chicken, with roast potatoes, carrots and broccoli. The roasting tin is placed in the centre of the table and we dig in. For dessert is Malva pudding, a sponge topped with a creamy sauce, both sweet and syrupy without being sickly. As a non-native dish in this cosmopolitan city, it seems a fitting end of the road to our food adventure.