Bar Muy Buenas

The Raval is a punch in the gut. It’s loud, it’s messy, and it smells like a thousand years of bad decisions and brilliant ideas. It’s the kind of neighborhood that doesn’t give a damn about your vacation photos. But then you walk into Bar Muy Buenas on Carrer del Carme, and the chaos of the street just... stops. You’re suddenly standing in a 1928 time capsule, a shrine to Modernista design that was nearly lost to the encroaching tide of generic brunch spots and souvenir shops selling plastic bulls.

This isn't some Disney-fied recreation of old Barcelona. This is a resurrection. For years, this place was a crumbling relic, its exquisite carved wood and etched glass hidden under layers of grime. Then came the guys from La Confitería group, who treated the restoration like a holy mission. They didn't just fix the plumbing; they saved a piece of the city’s soul. The result is one of the most beautiful rooms in the Ciutat Vella—all curved mahogany, marble counters, and a sense of permanence that is increasingly rare in a world of IKEA-furnished pop-ups.

But you don't come here just to gawk at the woodwork. You come here to eat the kind of food that defines 'cuina de xup-xup'—the slow, rhythmic sound of a pot simmering on the back of a stove for hours. We’re talking about the best fricandó in Barcelona. It’s a traditional veal stew with moixernons (dried mushrooms), and it is unapologetically brown, rich, and deep. It’s the kind of dish that makes you understand why people have stayed in this city through wars and plagues. It’s comfort in a bowl, served without pretense.

The menu is a love letter to Catalonia. You’ll find 'cap i pota'—head and hoof stew—which sounds terrifying to the uninitiated but is actually a gelatinous, spicy masterpiece of texture and flavor. There are meatballs with cuttlefish (mandonguilles amb sípia), the classic 'mar i muntanya' (sea and mountain) combination that proves Catalans were fusion-cooking long before it was a marketing term. The ingredients are sourced with a fanatic’s devotion to the local markets, and you can taste the difference in every bite of the salt cod or the simple, perfect escalivada.

Then there’s the booze. Bar Muy Buenas has committed itself to the nearly forgotten world of Catalan liqueurs. The backbar is a library of spirits you’ve probably never heard of—ratafía, aromes de Montserrat, and herbal concoctions that taste like a hike through the Pyrenees. They have over 100 local liqueurs, and the bartenders know exactly what to do with them. Whether you want a stiff cocktail or a glass of something medicinal to settle your stomach after a plate of pig’s trotters, they’ve got you covered.

Is it perfect? No. The service can be as brusque as the neighborhood itself when the room is packed, and the Raval outside can be a bit much for the faint of heart. But that’s the point. Bar Muy Buenas is a reminder that the real Barcelona still exists, hidden in plain sight behind a protected Art Nouveau facade. It’s a place for people who want to eat with their hands, drink things that burn a little, and sit in a room that has seen it all. It’s honest, it’s beautiful, and it’s essential.