The Best Places in Spain

A glass-fronted wine cellar anchors the room at this polished modern Spanish restaurant a short walk from Retiro park. The menu splits into sharing plates and fuller dishes, with a tasting menu for those who want the full tour. The kitchen leans into updated traditional cooking, the kind where Galician stew turns up inside ravioli and hake gets a lemon pil-pil. A gastro-bar with high tables handles the casual end if you walk in without a plan.

The ribeye draws diners from across the Rioja, and that pretty much tells you what kind of steakhouse this is. Tucked beside a church in a quiet village square, Alameda is a family-run grill built around the quality of its ingredients, with whole fish and seasonal specials rounding out a menu that doesn't need to show off. Order whatever the kitchen picked up that morning and you'll be fine.

A bistro steps from the Atarazanas Central Market, Alaparte keeps the kitchen open behind the bar so you can watch the team translate local produce into food that drifts between Andalusian, French, and Asian without losing its footing. The name is a nod to the chef's grandfather, who sorted discarded fish for a living, which is a better origin story than most restaurants manage. Casual, market-driven, and worth the detour off the tourist drag.

Stone walls and wood beams set the mood at this Galician grill, which takes its name from a Luis Eduardo Aute song and takes its cooking just as seriously. Top cuts of meat are priced by weight on the à la carte, and two tasting menus let the kitchen flex further. The fire does most of the talking, with the chef's role being to get out of the way and let exceptional ingredients speak.

The open grill does most of the talking at this Vigo restaurant, where the chef sources fish and seafood almost entirely from the auction in A Guarda, so the menu shifts with whatever the Rías Baixas offered up that morning. Spider crab, lobster, prawns from local estuaries, wild bream, and whatever else arrived at dawn share the card with seasonal Galician meat and vegetables, no flourishes required.

A corner of the Gros district where a neighborhood bar became a casual bistro, run by three partners who came up through the Basque Culinary Center together. The cooking is contemporary Basque, leaning hard on vegetables from small local growers, with fish and meat rounding things out. You can eat at a proper table or pull up at the bar counter, which tends to fill first.

The chef here describes himself as "pure Murcian stock," and the kitchen follows suit with traditional, market-driven cooking rooted in the region. Up front there's an informal bar for tapas; behind it, a classically furnished dining room that doubles as private space when needed. A lunch menu keeps things accessible, but the stews and rice dishes, ordered ahead for two, are the ones worth planning around. Listen when they recite the off-menu specials.

A husband-and-wife restaurant tucked into a tiny Asturian village, where the vegetable garden sits right beside the dining room and whatever's in it arrives on the table minutes later. The couple run menus built around fish pulled daily from the auction houses at Lastres and Tazones and serious local beef, all cooked in a contemporary style. The name is an Asturian word for pausing to breathe, which tells you the pace they're after.

The grill is the centerpiece here, surrounded by a charcuterie section and cuts of Wagyu, Angus, and aged beef that arrive without sides unless you ask for them separately. Aleño Brassafina is the more relaxed ground-floor steakhouse sibling to a Michelin-starred upstairs neighbor, and the whole setup is built for sharing. Order the pickled mussels early and let the table argue over which cut to order next.

A chef who followed love to Castelló de la Plana and brought his whole résumé with him: Italy, France, Switzerland, Spain, all of it folded into a contemporary dining room near the center of town. The menu roams accordingly, with an à la carte side and a tasting menu of around eleven courses that needs booking ahead. It's the kind of place where the chef's biography is also the through-line of the meal.

Bare concrete in pink and grey, an open kitchen framed in exposed steel, and a menu that borrows freely from the more celebrated Alejandro Serrano next door. This casual contemporary restaurant in Miranda de Ebro runs the same ideas through a looser, more affordable filter, with dishes like ceviche-style prawn carpaccio alongside a daily set menu priced for regulars. The vibe is industrial without trying too hard about it.

Cod cooked ajoarriero-style with lobster has been pulling regulars back to this traditional restaurant for long enough that booking ahead is just part of the deal. It's a full-service dining room run by a brother-and-sister team with the kind of polish you'd expect from a family that knows how to run a room. The menu runs à la carte or tasting, and you can order raciones if you'd rather graze than commit.

Tucked inside a hotel, this Catalan restaurant opens onto a courtyard ringed by stone archways, where tables sit under covered walkways and the whole scene feels more like a manor garden than a dining room. The menu leans on the Empordà coast, with rice dishes and grilled seafood anchoring things, and the kitchen keeps the cooking close to tradition without turning it into a museum piece.

The name comes from a Rioja dialect word for scraping the plate clean, which sets the tone before you've even sat down. This restaurant inside a hotel in one of Spain's prettiest medieval villages serves an updated take on regional Riojan cooking, with trompe-l'oeil flourishes tucked among the intense flavors. A vaulted wine cellar runs beneath the room. The menu comes as a journey, short or long, and the wine list has the conviction you'd expect from this corner of Spain.

A French chef quoting philosophy at the door is either a red flag or a promise, and at Allégorie it leans the other way. This contemporary French restaurant in Chamberí runs across two floors, with a bar at street level for wine, champagne, and small bites, and a proper dining room upstairs where set menus named like movements in a symphony let the kitchen move through the seasons at its own pace.

A small restaurant in a historic building just off the Plaza de España, where the cooking stays deliberately close to Cádiz tradition, no detours into mod-Spanish flourishes. The chef trained under Ricard Camarena and brought back a particular focus on technique, applied here to old regional recipes done with care. The menu follows the seasons and stays short. Save room for the poleá, the local dessert that tends to convert the skeptical.

A converted salt warehouse perched above salt pans that have been worked since ancient times, Almazen is a tasting-menu restaurant built around an open kitchen with a bar counter circling it. The chef cooks in plain sight, pulling from local organic produce and leaning hard on muera, the salt native to this valley. On fair days the meal opens outside, looking out over the mines, which sets the tone rather perfectly.

A family farmhouse turned contemporary Andalusian restaurant, with a patio terrace that makes lunch feel like the right call in any season. The kitchen works from a traditional regional base, nudging it forward with Asian touches and dishes that shift with what's good right now. A set lunch menu handles casual visits; a longer tasting menu is there when you want the full argument, though you'll need to book it a day ahead.

An air-conditioned courtyard tucked inside a Vitoria-Gasteiz address that's been around forever, now steered by a sibling duo who've quietly made it their own. This is a traditional Spanish restaurant with a modernist streak, where the menu shifts with the market and the dining room hums along under attentive family service. Lunch on a weekday unlocks a set menu; evenings lean more deliberate, with a tasting option for those who came prepared.

Five tables, a kitchen you can watch from every one of them, and a chef who started out as a baker before finding his way to the stove. Anhelo is a small, intimate tasting-menu restaurant in central Castelló de la Plana, where three set menus anchor a creative, sense-driven kitchen. Book ahead, because with that few seats the room fills fast and there is no wandering in off the street.

Panelled dining rooms with a rustic feel sit inside a rural hotel deep in Basque Country, far enough from anywhere that the journey feels intentional. The kitchen updates traditional Basque cooking on an à la carte or set menus, and the local cheeses are worth the trip on their own. A modern wine cellar runs below, and a panoramic lift delivers private groups to an attic room above, which is a lot of drama for one building.

A low-key, minimalist restaurant steps from the beach near Zahora, where the stripped-back room is clearly a deliberate choice and not an oversight. The kitchen works contemporary Spanish cuisine with deep Cádiz roots, leaning on locally caught fish, tuna, and rice dishes shaped by whatever the province is doing well that season. A handful of guest rooms sit upstairs for anyone who'd rather not drive home after the croquettes.

The kitchen keeps its own urban vegetable garden and a botanical terrace, which tells you something about how seriously this contemporary Mediterranean restaurant takes its sourcing. Set inside a hotel in Palma, Aromata runs a flexible à la carte at lunch and shifts into tasting-menu mode come evening, with two options that lean into the island's culinary traditions through a modern lens. The kind of place where the menu changes with what's good that day.

A private bar tucked beneath residential arches sets the tone before you ever sit down. This is a contemporary dining room where the chef works through Asturian culinary tradition with a light hand and careful plating, keeping flavor central. The menu runs from à la carte to two tasting menus, one named for the place itself. Good for a proper dinner without the full theater of a destination restaurant.

Paella ordered at booking time, not from a menu you browse at the table, which tells you exactly the kind of rice-serious operation this is. This beachside arrocería sits between Valencia and the wetlands of La Albufera, with a pool and lounge area for the long, drowsy afternoon that follows a proper Valencian rice lunch. It belongs to the well-regarded Arrocería Maribel family, and the crowd skews toward multigenerational Valencian families doing Sunday the right way.

The dining room sits twenty metres underground in a 15th-century Mudejar wine cellar, all labyrinthine stone, accessible by stairs or, if you prefer, a lift. Arrope is a modern tasting-menu restaurant in Rueda where the chef, a Canary Islander who trained in serious kitchens, builds seasonal menus around local produce. The cellar belongs to the Yllera wine family, so the pairings are less of an afterthought than usual.

A traditional Galician restaurant near Riazor beach, named for the Celtic tribe who once called this corner of the coast home, which sets a certain tone before you even sit down. The dining room is comfortable and unhurried, with a partial view into the kitchen, and regulars fill it reliably enough that a reservation is the sensible move. The à la carte leans into the region's seafood with conviction, lamprey appearing when the season allows.

A twelve-seat counter is the whole room, which tells you what kind of dinner this is going to be. The couple behind it cook Basque food through a Peruvian lens, a combination that sounds like a pitch but plays out with real conviction on the plate. The tasting menu is the move, though the à la carte holds its own. Sit in Gros, near the Kursaal, and let them feed you.

Vintage posters from the Albacete Fair line the bar at this family-run Spanish restaurant, now on its third generation and sitting a short walk from the Cathedral. The room splits between a lively bar with high tables and two proper dining rooms. The menu runs from tapas and small plates through serious La Mancha stews and select cuts of meat, with coastal dishes appearing where you might not expect them this far inland.

Two aging chambers full of maturing beef dominate the bar the moment you walk in, which tells you everything about priorities here. Set inside an old mansion near a campsite on the edge of town, this is a traditional steakhouse where the kitchen runs on olive wood and the chef, known locally as "the crab," keeps the menu squarely focused on grilled red meat. The wine cellar is deep enough that choosing a bottle becomes its own project.

Fish and meat cuts sold by weight over live embers, in a stone-walled dining room on the ground floor of a rural guesthouse steps from the parish church. This village asador in Tardienta is the kind of place everyone local already knows about. The chef trained at Etxebarri and DiverXo before coming home, and the menu follows the market, which in practice means whatever looks good that week, cooked over fire.

Whitewashed walls, cactus on the terrace, and the crumbling ruins of a 19th-century iron ore terminal just down the road: Agua Amarga's most remote dining room earns its approach. This rustic-contemporary Spanish grill sits on the Carboneras road outside town, with two fireplace-lit rooms and a terrace ringed with prickly pears. The kitchen leans traditional with Arab and North African threads woven in, and the daily fish and beef entrecôte tend to do the heavy lifting.

A mural of a giant black-and-white octopus covers one wall of this grilled seafood restaurant tucked into a narrow lane in Almería's old quarter. The room keeps a certain rustic Castilian weight to it despite a renovation, which is an odd aesthetic for a kitchen that now answers almost entirely to whatever the boats brought in that morning. Order from the grill and let the octopus watch.

The open kitchen sits right behind the service bar, so the chef who cooked your food is also the one taking your order and checking in on the table. This small contemporary restaurant near the Palacio de Exposiciones leans into Andalusian flavors shaped by modern technique, with a set menu that anchors the more seasonal tasting menu. The room is bright and a little eclectic, the kind of place that feels personal because it is.

A macaroni section on the menu is either a bold statement or a love letter to Catalan grandmothers, and here it reads as both. This cosy neighbourhood restaurant in Sant Gervasi runs on traditional Catalan cooking, the kind that tastes like someone's kitchen rather than a concept. Tripe, croquettes, and pasta dishes that would make your nonna weep, with the odd modern touch slipped in without making a fuss.

A bistro-style spot in the old city where two young chefs run the room with the kind of looseness that makes a meal feel like it was their idea to invite you. The menu moves through contemporary Spanish cooking with quiet nods to Japanese, Mexican, and Peruvian flavors, alongside a dedicated section for Almadraba tuna. Finger foods arrive as tapas, the pork cheek ravioli with foie gras sauce shows real ambition, and nothing feels like it's trying too hard.

Nets, ropes, and weathered wood set the mood at this old-school family seafood restaurant directly across from the local market in San Vicente de la Barquera. Fish and shellfish are priced by weight, mariscadas arrive for the table to share, and the rice with lobster has been the house calling card for so long the family is credited with putting it on the map. Save room for the cream millefeuille, which earns its reputation quietly.

A contemporary dining room near the old-town market in Pedreguer, where two Le Cordon Bleu graduates run a tasting-menu restaurant built around local Mediterranean produce. The kitchen leans modern without losing sight of the region, and the desserts tend to stop the table mid-conversation, which tracks when the chef behind them made his name in pastry. Two menus, both available with wine pairing.

Veal tripe, cod in pil-pil, oxtail braised in red wine: the tasting menu at this traditional Spanish dining room in Vallehermoso makes no apologies for loving the old recipes. Stews and slow-cooked cuts do the heavy lifting, with daily specials that never make it onto the written menu. Half-portions are available for most dishes, which is either generous or dangerous depending on your willpower.

Rice dishes cooked open at a counter, so you can watch the whole production, are the main event at this Mediterranean restaurant facing the Ciudad de la Comunicación park. The room goes full coastal color scheme, yellow and blue from floor to fixtures, in case the name left any doubt. Creative pinchos round out the menu, and a set tasting option exists for anyone who'd rather leave the decisions to the kitchen.

Tom yum crab croquettes alongside conger eel cannelloni tell you immediately that this informal restaurant is not playing by regional rules. The couple running BaceLo cook Galician ingredients through a wider lens, pulling in chipotle, satay, curry, and whatever else fits, with enough confidence that it never reads as restless. The room on Ferrol's central pedestrian strip is rustic-contemporary, and the whole operation has a relaxed, neighborhood feel.

The charcoal grill does a lot of the heavy lifting here, turning out informal Japanese food with a Basque accent that lands more naturally than it sounds. Nigiri, oysters, and hot dishes share the menu with two omakase options if you'd rather hand over the wheel. Sit at the bar and you can order the nigiri-only menu that isn't available anywhere else in the room, which is a reasonable argument for the bar.

The kitchen names its suppliers on the menu, which is either charming transparency or a gentle guilt trip depending on your relationship with commitment. This contemporary restaurant inside a boutique hotel on the Costa da Morte runs on local seasonal produce and modern technique, offered as a fixed-price or tasting menu. The room has an elegant rustic feel, and the wild Balarés beach is close enough that you'll understand why someone built here.

A former aristocratic villa in Madrid's embassy district, complete with dining rooms that feel like someone forgot to tell them the family moved out, and a chapel that now handles private events. This is a contemporary restaurant where the cooking leans on seasonal ingredients and old-school technique. The sourdough arrives under a glass dome before disappearing to be baked, which is either charming or theatrical depending on your mood, and probably both.

To reach the back dining rooms at Bar Cañete, you walk straight through the kitchen, which tells you something about how the place operates. It's a tapas bar a short walk from the Liceu, built around a long counter and market ingredients treated with as little fuss as possible. Anchovies, cockles, clams, fried artichokes. Order the pan amb tomàquet no matter what else you get; regulars don't need reminding.

Bare stone walls, salvaged and left to speak for themselves, set the tone at this Mediterranean restaurant tucked into Palma's old quarter. Two rooms give you options: seats overlooking the kitchen for the theatre of it, or the calmer main dining room. The menu runs à la carte with seasonal suggestions and a fish of the day that the kitchen takes seriously, with a grilled wild turbot to back up that claim.

The rice dishes here come in more varieties than most Catalan restaurants have menu items, and they're the main event. This family-run regional restaurant in Tarragona has been through a few lives, from coal yard to siphon factory to dining room, and the current generation leans into market-driven cooking with a distinctly local accent. The paintings on the walls are the owner's own work, and yes, they're for sale.

The name reaches back to what the Basque Country was called in the 11th century, which tells you how seriously this contemporary Basque restaurant takes its roots. The menu changes constantly around what the market offers that week, with a tasting menu alongside the à la carte. A shaded terrace handles aperitivo hour in the San Sebastián tradition, pintxos and all. The kind of room where the cooking feels personal because it is.

Eneko Atxa, the Basque chef with three Michelin stars at his flagship back home, has planted a version of that creative cooking inside a Radisson hotel in central Seville. The format is contemporary Basque, with sharing plates, grilled meats, and two tasting menus, short or long, both with wine pairing if you want it. The smoked Iberian pork is the kind of detail that makes the menu worth reading slowly.

A couple runs this Mediterranean restaurant on one of Malaga's central squares, calling their philosophy "meridian cuisine," a shorthand for the flavors of the southern Mediterranean done with quiet technical care. Rice dishes anchor the menu and come as a section you can order from à la carte, though two tasting menus are there if you want the full arc. The terrace is the reason to book ahead, so book ahead.

A tasting menu restaurant set in an interior courtyard of a Canarian resort, with large windows flooding the minimalist room in light. The chef, José Luis Espino, frames his creative cooking as where the vegetable garden meets the sea, and the two menus pay tribute to characters from the novelist Benito Pérez Galdós, which is exactly the kind of detail that earns a place its own mythology. Local produce runs through everything.

Seven thousand light bulbs and an actual hot-air balloon dangle from the ceiling, which tells you most of what you need to know about the mood. This is Dani García's casual Madrid restaurant, a share-everything kind of place where Andalusian roots get scrambled into something more globe-trotting. The room, styled by Lázaro Rosa-Violán, is theatrical in the best chaotic way, and the food keeps pace without taking itself too seriously.

The dining counter runs the length of this small Ríos Rosas restaurant, a deliberate choice that keeps the room loose and the conversation between kitchen and table short. Two brothers run it, one cooking and one hosting, and the format is a single tasting menu that no one tells you about in advance. Contemporary cooking with Mediterranean and Asian threads woven through it, rooted in familiar recipes pushed somewhere unexpected.

A bistro with gastronomic ambitions tucked into the ground floor of a corner building near Badajoz's cathedral, Bidaia takes its name from the Basque word for journey. The short, market-driven menu changes with the seasons and pulls from personal memory, leaning heavily on traditions from northern Spain. Two set menus or à la carte, modest room, food that makes you look twice at the address.

A modern Galician restaurant a short walk from the fish market, which tells you something about how the seafood arrives. The menu leans into contemporary local cooking with clean presentation, and every dish is available in half portions, a thoughtful touch that makes the tasting logic work without committing to the full parade. Two set menus round out the options, with wine pairings available for both.

The name comes from the viticultural practice of aerating vineyard soil, which tells you something about how seriously Jerez takes its culinary roots. Juanlu Fernández runs the two-Michelin-starred LÚ Cocina y Alma nearby, and this is his looser, more everyday room: traditional Andalusian cooking with Colombian inflections woven in, a nod to his business partner. Stews, reinterpreted classics, and plates that feel inherited rather than invented.

A short walk from the Torres de Serranos, this bright, modern restaurant runs on set menus, with a lighter option at lunch and a more ambitious one come evening. Two chefs share the kitchen and keep the cooking rooted in seasonal produce while nudging traditional Valencia cuisine somewhere more contemporary. The room feels cosmopolitan without trying too hard, and the pricing is refreshingly honest for a city that knows how to charge.

The dining room is done almost entirely in red, which either sets the mood or makes you feel like you're eating inside a warning sign. This contemporary Italian restaurant in Burgos folds Castilian instincts into the Italian canon, so a cod with pilpil sauce or a caramelised panettone torrija lands with one foot in each tradition. Two tasting menus, named Fellini and Sophia Loren, sit alongside à la carte.

The walls are hung with so much art it doubles as a museum, the Museo Redondo, tucked inside what started as a wine and farm-supply shop. It's a traditional Spanish restaurant now, an old-school institution in Santander, where the menu runs to Rioja-style braised snails and hake with pepper cream. Book ahead, and let the bar talk you into an aperitif before you sit down.

Tucked into the old town's maze of pintxos bars, Bodegón Alejandro is a sit-down Basque restaurant that takes the food more seriously than the décor, which suits everyone just fine. The room feels rustic but not fussy, and the cooking follows the same logic: seasonal, local, and rooted in tradition. The menu runs from fried anchovies to cod done in pil-pil with crab, plus a tasting menu if you want the full tour.

A small, unfussy bistro in Lavapiés where a British chef cooks market-driven food with occasional homesick detours, a hash brown surfacing among the ajoblanco and chorizo without any apology. The menu rotates every few months, which keeps the regulars guessing and the kitchen honest. Patricia runs the room with the ease of someone who has done this long enough to make it look simple. The name means "butterfly" in Galician, a nod to the chef's grandmother.

A Swedish-Spanish chef with a name that will make you do a double-take runs this relaxed restaurant steps from the beach in El Campello, blending Nordic instincts with Mediterranean and regional Spanish flavors. The menu shifts three times a year and comes in tasting format or à la carte, with the gravadlax built from a family recipe worth tracking down. Nothing here feels like it's trying to impress you, which is usually when a meal does.

A snug bistro in central Cáceres named for the corn bread of Galicia and Asturias, which is either a charming quirk or a gentle provocation depending on how Extremaduran you are. The kitchen works the region's flavors with updated technique, and a tasting menu called Algarabía pairs with wines from either the local area or the wider peninsula. A dish of fried suckling pig's ear with white prawn and lime stays on permanently, though the garnish follows the season.

A short walk from the marina in Cambrils, Bresca is a contemporary Spanish restaurant with a spare, minimalist room that lets the cooking do the talking. The team runs an à la carte alongside a few set menus, all built around an updated take on Catalan tradition. Crispy pigs' trotters with black botifarra sausage should tell you which direction that update points. The name means "honeycomb" in Spanish, which feels apt for a place this quietly industrious.

A dining room that looks out over a regional castle-museum, tucked behind Falset's cooperative winery, sets the scene for this Mediterranean restaurant in El Priorat wine country. The chef also runs the celebrated Quatre Molins nearby, and that ambition shows: the menu runs from a daily set lunch to several tasting menus, all leaning on the region's produce with a quietly confident hand.

A tapas bar calling itself "the soul of an izakaya" in the middle of the Gothic Quarter, where the chef somehow also runs a farm outside the city that supplies the cheese, sobrasada, and wine. The result is Japanese technique landed on Mediterranean ingredients, served at the bar so you can watch it happen. It's small and tucked into one of those narrow streets where half the neighborhood seems to be a restaurant too.

A steakhouse near Loro Parque where the window looks straight out to sea and the meat case does most of the talking. Cuts from Uruguay, Nebraska, Germany, and Spain share the menu, many aged on the premises and sold by weight for two to share. The steak tartare is the house signature, though a T-bone or tomahawk tends to settle any remaining arguments. A family-run spot that carnivores on the island seem to find eventually.

Tucked in the basement of another restaurant, this tasting menu spot channels a genuine speakeasy feeling before you've even ordered. The kitchen opens onto the dining room, and the chef works a fusion of Basque and Mexican cooking built around local produce. The longer tasting menu is called Amakase, a riff on omakase that folds in the Basque word for mother. The concept sounds fussy on paper but the room is warmer than that.

A 30-metre whale sculpture by the road is your landmark, and once past it you're in a bright, contemporary dining room set within an outdoor art park full of palm trees, olive trees, and towering wrought iron figures. The menu reads as a modern Mediterranean spread, with tapas, regional flatbreads, and rice dishes doing the heavy lifting. Book ahead if you want the terrace in summer, which you do.

The patio terrace at this farmhouse restaurant on the road into Es Migjorn Gran books up for dinner and not much else, which tells you something about priorities. Inside, the feel is rustic with a contemporary edge, and the cooking runs on market-fresh Menorcan ingredients with French inflections. The smoked pâté de campagne is a near-permanent fixture on the menu, which regulars will tell you is exactly as it should be.

A vine-draped terrace hung with handmade murals sets the mood at this tasting-menu restaurant in a sleepy Mallorcan village, where two sisters have turned a tribute to their grandmother into something quietly serious. The single seasonal menu shifts with whatever the island is doing at that moment, rooted so firmly in Mallorcan tradition that it almost doubles as an argument for the place itself. The shop next door, selling local provisions, is a nice hint about their priorities.