Bodego del Pop

Sarrià-Sant Gervasi is, for the most part, where the money goes to sleep. It’s a neighborhood of wide boulevards, expensive private schools, and people who wear sweaters draped over their shoulders without irony. It is clean, it is quiet, and if you aren’t careful, it can be soul-crushingly dull. But then, tucked away on Carrer de Sant Gervasi de Cassoles, you find Bodego del Pop. It’s a middle finger to the polished, sterilized version of Barcelona that the tourism boards want you to see. It’s small, it’s dark, and it’s exactly what a neighborhood bar should be.

When you walk in, the first thing that hits you isn’t the smell of garlic—though that’s there, lurking in the background—it’s the sound. This isn’t a place that relies on a tired Spotify 'Chill Jazz' playlist. There’s a turntable, and it’s actually being used. We’re talking real vinyl, the kind with pops and hisses that give the room a heartbeat. The walls are lined with records and eclectic memorabilia that suggest the owner, Fran (or Francisco, as the regulars know him), has spent a lifetime collecting things that actually mean something to him. It feels less like a business and more like someone’s private den that they’ve begrudgingly opened to the public.

Fran is the heart of the operation. He’s the guy behind the bar who actually gives a damn about what’s in your glass. This is a wine bar for people who like to drink, not for people who want to pose with a glass of overpriced Cava. The selection is curated with a sharp eye for small producers and bottles that tell a story. You don’t come here for a generic Rioja; you come here to be told what’s good today. The service is personal, direct, and entirely devoid of the fake 'customer is king' subservience you find in the tourist traps down by the port. If you’re looking for a place to be pampered, go elsewhere. If you’re looking for a place to be respected as a fellow traveler in the world of fermented grapes, you’ve arrived.

The food is a masterclass in the beauty of the 'conserva' and the simple plate. In a city obsessed with molecular gastronomy and foams, Bodego del Pop leans into the classics. We’re talking high-quality cecina de León that melts on the tongue, cheeses that actually have some funk to them, and the kind of Gildas—that glorious skewered mess of olive, anchovy, and pepper—that make you wonder why anyone eats anything else. It’s the kind of food that demands another glass of wine, and then another. It’s honest. It’s the sort of protein-heavy, salt-forward fuel that has sustained Spanish drinkers since long before the first cruise ship docked at the bottom of La Rambla.

Is it perfect? No. It’s cramped. If you’re a group of ten, you’re going to have a bad time. The lighting is moody, the music can be loud, and if Fran is busy, you’re going to wait. But that’s the point. This is one of the best wine bars in Sarrià-Sant Gervasi precisely because it doesn’t try to be everything to everyone. It’s a local haunt for people who live in the neighborhood and want to escape the beige reality of their surroundings for an hour or three. It’s a place for a date night in Barcelona that doesn't feel like a cliché, or a solo mission where you can disappear into a glass of red and a Coltrane record.

In a city that is rapidly being hollowed out by short-term rentals and global chains, Bodego del Pop is a reminder of what makes Barcelona worth visiting in the first place. It’s a small, flickering light of authenticity in a neighborhood that usually prefers a dimmer switch. Go there, buy a bottle, listen to the music, and thank whatever gods you pray to that places like this still exist.