The Best Places in Spain

Wood paneling, a mahogany counter, worn seats, and a cut-out of a bowler-hatted man peeping through blinds: GMT lands somewhere between a Fleet Street pub and a noir detective's waiting room. The cocktail bar took its name from a shortening of Gimlet, not the time zone, which tells you something about how seriously they take the bit. Soft jazz and low lighting keep the mood intact for anyone who shows up in a trench coat, ironically or otherwise.

Sherry bars don't come more committed than this one: no beer, no wine, no water, no tips, and absolutely no photos. The ban on cameras dates, according to local lore, to the Franco era when spies used them to identify enemies. A chalk tally on the bar keeps track of what you've drunk. Order fino, manzanilla, or oloroso, let the black cat wander past, and don't ask for anything that isn't sherry.

The curved white marble bar, brass rail, and pressed linen make this basement cocktail bar feel like it's been here since the trams ran. Jazz drifts through a room that reads like the lower deck of a very elegant ship, and the bartenders match the setting, efficient and serious about their craft. The entrance, garish enough to give you pause near Plaça de Catalunya, is doing nobody any favors, but the room below it is the whole point.

The reception desk, the bar, and the restaurant share one open floor at Hotel Omm, so Moo Bar is less a room than a mood: metal-mesh curtains, rough stone walls, and low lighting that makes the whole lobby feel like an afterparty you stumbled into with a good sense of direction. The cocktail list keeps to the classics, made carefully and brought over by staff who seem to mean it. A quietly confident hotel bar.

Ordering a beer here would probably count as a minor offense. Old Fashioned is a compact cocktail bar tucked into Gràcia, where the gin and tonics flow freely and the house cocktails lean vintage without feeling costume-y. Swing, Charleston, and old-school jazz play low enough to still hear yourself talk. The room is small, the bar team is passionate, and showing up with a vague "something classic" request is genuinely all the invitation they need.

A cocktail bar in the La Torrassa neighborhood of L'Hospitalet, well past the tourist radius and closer to the airport than the Ramblas. The owner runs the local bartenders' guild, which explains both the quality of the drinks and the off-duty industry crowd that fills the wood-paneled rooms on a given night. Friendly locals make up the rest, and nobody seems to mind that you found the place.

Crystal globe lamps hang from a pegboard ceiling washed in lilac light, and the whole room reads like a design-school brief that actually worked. Valuart is a cocktail bar in the Eixample that leans into its own aesthetic without apology. After midnight, tables get pushed aside and a DJ takes over downstairs, so the line between cocktail bar and club is more of a suggestion than a boundary.

Pink marble pillars rise from black granite floors to a gold-leaf vaulted ceiling inside this cocktail bar at the Hotel Casa Fuster on Passeig de Gràcia. The effect is somewhere between a grand European café and a very well-appointed crypt, softened by wavy burgundy banquettes and chairs that look lifted from a Paul Smith window display. A good spot for a drink when you want the room to do most of the talking.

Pinball machines and dart boards share space with serious cocktail making in this converted Barcelonan townhouse a taxi ride from the centre. Torre Rosa is a cocktail bar that wears a social club costume convincingly, with bright, garnish-heavy menus that undersell what's actually coming out of the bar. The room is enormous and loud in the best neighbourhood-hangout way, which makes the craft feel like a happy accident rather than a performance.

The name is a nod to the old cotton-beating process, which is a clever way to remind you that you're drinking in a converted mercantile palace. Inside, though, the cocktail bar skips the grandeur for something quieter: timber, leather, and low light while the Eixample buzzes outside. The list runs classic to seasonal signature, the kind of bar where you can order either without embarrassment.

A cocktail bar tucked into a corner of Palma's old market square, its name borrowed from the hobo code used during Prohibition, a secret sign that alcohol was hidden nearby. About twenty seats inside and a small terrace keep things close, which suits a place where every drink is made with housemade ingredients and the team has strong opinions about not chasing trends. Order something off the signature list and let them explain it.

The kitchen calls it "Bastard Italian Cuisine," which at least tells you upfront this won't be a Nonna's-recipe situation. The chef, who once cooked at the Argentine presidential residence, runs a tight à la carte that pulls Italian cooking toward something more personal and Argentine-inflected, keeping the flavour while ditching the trattoria formula. The rice-base pizza alone is worth the detour to Chamberí.

A discreet door off the street opens into a dim, velvet-and-shadow cocktail bar styled after the private haunts of 1970s New York's moneyed class. The concept is unabashedly theatrical, and the drinks lean into it: the team uses fine-dining technique to render things like tiramisu and cinnamon rolls as cocktails, which sounds gimmicky until you're two in and reconsidering your life choices. Difford's Guide has taken notice.

A cocktail bar on Calle de las Huertas where the espresso martini comes with a sustainability footnote, made with vanilla beans recycled from other productions and cold brew steeped for a full day. The philosophy, as the team puts it, is product, service, and experience in harmony, which sounds lofty until the drink arrives and the argument makes itself. Difford's Guide has taken note.

Bartenders in white chef's coats shaking Gimlets behind a bar dressed in polished plaster, blackened wood, and lipstick-red seating: the room looks like a Manhattan lounge but runs like a neighborhood spot. This cocktail bar in the Sarrià-Sant Gervasi is the uptown sibling of a downtown original, now under the ownership of the team behind the famous Dry Martini on Aribau. Locals of all ages come in without ceremony for classic cocktails, the Gimlet and Dry Martini especially.

The cocktail menu runs to eight drinks, and the team seems to regard that as plenty. Inclán Brutal Bar is a cocktail bar in Centro where the glassware is as considered as what's in it, trompe l'oeil details and all. The short list swings between originals and classics treated with unusual fidelity, which is a rarer combination than it sounds. A good room to visit when you want someone to have thought very hard about your drink.

A cocktail bar in Retiro that names itself after danger and more or less means it. The house Espresso Martini runs on Ketel One infused with vanilla, Pedro Ximénez, homemade banana syrup, cold brew, and cacao bitters, finished with a cacao crumble and dehydrated plantain chips. The coffee comes from a neighborhood shop that works with small local farmers, which is a surprisingly earnest detail for a bar with this much attitude.

The Lobby Bar at The Madrid Edition is the kind of hotel cocktail bar where the room does most of the talking, all marble and low light and the quiet confidence of people who have somewhere to be later. The signature espresso martini uses Café Baque coffee, a Madrid roaster with roots in local farming communities, which gives the bar's small-batch conscience something to actually point to.

Mirrored walls and warm wood paneling line this cocktail bar on Echegaray, Madrid's reliable street for a late night out. The signature Espresso Martini swaps the usual formula for cold brew, house coffee liqueur, and local heather honey sourced from a neighborhood beekeeper working on native bee recovery, which is a more interesting origin story than most bars bother with. The room gets festive well before midnight.

A cocktail bar in Madrid's Centro that bills itself as liquid theatre, invoking the Greek god of sarcasm and mockery, which turns out to be a surprisingly honest mission statement. The drinks lean avant-garde, and the room keeps things spare and minimal so nothing distracts from what's in the glass. Honey from a beekeeping collective in the Sierra Norte mountains finds its way into the drinks, which is either poetic or ironic, probably both.

The house-made cherry jam in the Espresso Martini comes from a cooperative run by people with intellectual disabilities, which tells you a lot about how this cocktail bar operates. Moonlight Experimental Bar sits in Zaragoza's Casco Antiguo, where the team, led by Spain's 2024 World Class Competition winner, treats the bar as a platform for social projects as much as a place to drink something memorable.

The signature Espresso Martini swaps refined sugar for raw honey sourced from a small Guadalajara beekeeper, which is either a genuinely thoughtful choice or the most Spanish possible way to make a cocktail sound like a nature documentary. Either way, the drink is built around Ketel One macerated in rosemary and house coffee liqueur. This is a hotel cocktail bar inside the JW Marriott, polished and well-positioned, with Difford's Guide taking note.

The Espresso Martini here comes with a coffee foam, an egg yolk, and a cookie wafer sourced from a local convent whose proceeds go to people in need, which gives ordering a cocktail a quietly unusual moral weight. Santos y Desamparados is a bar in Madrid's Centro, the kind where a drink can arrive with a small story attached. The room pulls in locals who know where they are, geographically and otherwise.

Graffiti walls, mismatched furniture made from recycled odds and ends, and a cocktail menu where the drinks have names like Wasabi Wan Kanobi. Two Schmucks, tucked down a side street in El Raval, calls itself a five-star dive bar, which is both accurate and the best possible pitch. Ice-cold beers go out as fast as cocktails, and nobody is keeping score either way.

The azulejos tiles and carved wooden facade have been pulling people off the street in Las Letras since forever. Up front it reads like a classic Madrid taverna, wine and fino and all the rest; out back, Diego Cabrera of Salmón Gurú runs a cocktail bar that gives the old bones something to talk about. The crowd arrives for tapas and stays longer than planned, which is more or less the idea.

The Espresso Martini here gets the fat-washing treatment, with Ketel One infused with dark chocolate and a coffee liqueur steeped in orange peel, finished under a coconut and white chocolate foam. Zingara is a cocktail bar near Plaza de Salesas whose menu drifts between cultures by design, the name nodding to Romani nomadism. Difford's Guide lists it among bars worth knowing in Madrid.