The Best Places in Spain

A wave-like mirrored ceiling does most of the decorating at this self-described "irreverent seafood tavern" in Ciutat Vella, where the day's catch sits on ice at an open bar and a robata grill does the heavy lifting. The menu runs from cured horse mackerel to braised tuna cheek, and the oyster-infused dry martini has developed its own small reputation. A handful of tables keeps it intimate, which is a polite way of saying book ahead.

Platters of pintxos line the well-polished bar here, but the real move is opening the menu and ordering from the longer list of Basque classics behind them. This old-school Basque bar and restaurant in Eixample feels airlifted from Bilbao, down to the jai alai baskets on the walls and the sour cider on the bar. The after-work crowd packs the entrance; quieter tables in back are where the roasted hake and txultetón tend to land.

The sharing plates rotate with the seasons, but the vibe stays fixed: a light-filled, high-ceilinged room on a quiet Poble Sec street where natural wines from small local producers do most of the talking. Tiberi Bar grew out of a creative events collective, and the food still has that spirit, riffing on Catalan staples with genuinely unexpected turns. The kind of casual Mediterranean spot where you order more than you planned to.

The nickname El Comunista tells you most of what you need to know before you even sit down. This old-school casa de comidas in Chueca has been around forever, and the menu reads like a time capsule: stews, squid in its ink, migas with grapes. The kind of dishes that disappeared from most Madrid kitchens a generation ago still show up here at lunch, shared by the bohemian regulars who fill the place like they own it.

Noodles with kimchi mayo and raw red tuna put this small La Latina restaurant on the map, and the dish hasn't left the menu since because nobody will let it. Toga is a compact, casual spot where the cooking moves between Nikkei, Japanese, and Latin American without making a fuss about the itinerary. The room fills fast enough that the team opened a second location to handle the overflow, which tells you something about the regulars.

A small open kitchen and a communal table inside Mercado de Vallehermoso, where a chef mixes Spanish, Asian, and Latin flavors into shared plates that don't really ask for your approval before arriving. The format is market stall, but the cooking has a tasting-menu sensibility, and you can go either route. Bold combinations, tight space, and strangers eating next to you who are probably also confused in a good way.

An open fire grill sits at the center of the room, visible from the dining room, where dry-aged Iberian oxen get the kind of focused, unhurried attention that is almost meditative to watch. This is a Basque steakhouse in central Bilbao, polished but not stiff, rooted in txuleton tradition while the room's clean lines and curved seating push it somewhere more contemporary. It ranked 44th on the World's Best Steak Restaurants list.

The queue snaking down Calle de Tudescos is how you find this cocktail bar, since there's no other obvious sign. The owner has gone on record saying you probably won't remember the drinks a year from now, which is either a refreshing admission or very good marketing, depending on your mood. What people do remember is the night itself. Check Instagram for the password before you go, or just join the line and hope for the best.

Thick stone walls and exposed beams frame an open fire that does all the real talking at this Basque steakhouse in a historic Gipuzkoan town. The chuleta, a dry-aged bone-in cut cooked over charcoal and wood, is the point entirely. The team reads heat, humidity, and fat with the kind of quiet confidence that comes from doing one thing for a long time. It ranks among the World's Best Steak Restaurants, which should settle the debate about whether to make the drive.

The charcoal oven and open fire grill do most of the talking at this serious steakhouse in Costa Adeje, where chef Babacar Fall runs his own in-house butchery to control aging before anything reaches the flame. Spanish and Wagyu beef, dry-aged on site, gets treated with the kind of reverence usually reserved for Basque country institutions. Ranked among the World's Best Steak Restaurants, it makes a strong case for Tenerife as a destination for fire cooking.

The wine bottles lining the walls aren't decoration so much as inventory, and on a busy night you'll be standing among them. This compact little wine bar sits across the square from Santa Maria del Mar, and the room is refreshingly scruffy for a place with a list this good, cavas and sherries alongside an eclectic international rotation. Grab a stool at the marble counter if one opens up; otherwise, glass in hand, you're on your feet.

The bar counter here was custom-built to one level so every bartender works the same station, which tells you something about how seriously Kevo Jacoby runs the room. This snug cocktail bar in the Salamanca neighborhood is built around classics, with signatures that riff and twist rather than reinvent. The owner is usually your bartender, which, after stints pouring drinks across several countries, makes him someone worth talking to.

Carved pharmacy panels salvaged from near the Alhambra line the back bar, giving this basement cocktail lounge a feel that's part Moroccan souk, part Andalusian apothecary. It sits beneath Ocaña on Plaça Reial, past the busier bar upstairs and down into a vaulted, double-height catacomb hung with Persian rugs. The kind of room that makes you order a second drink just to keep looking at it.

A cocktail bar on the 26th floor of the W Hotel, with the kind of panoramic sweep across Barcelona that makes you forgive the scene happening around you. Ricardo Bofill handled the interiors, and the crowd arriving after dark is exactly who you'd expect. Go early enough to catch the sunset before the DJs and the queue in the lobby below make the whole thing feel like a very stylish inconvenience.

Blue-tiled walls, marble tables, and a zinc bar that has been pouring house cava since before anyone can remember: El Xampanyet is an old-school tapas bar on one of the prettiest streets in the Born. Anchovies in vinegar and fat green olives are the moves here, paired with cold glasses of cava. The kind of place where tourists and regulars agree for once, which is its own small miracle.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.