Can Xurrades

Most people come to Barcelona and think they want paella. They’re wrong. They want the smell of oak charcoal hitting fat. They want the kind of meal that leaves you feeling like you’ve just participated in an ancient, bloody ritual. Can Xurrades isn't a place for the faint of heart or the militant vegan. It’s a shrine to the Bos Taurus Ibericus—the Sayagués ox—an ancient, near-mythical breed that chef Rafa Martínez has basically made his life’s work. This isn't just a steakhouse; it’s a laboratory of protein.

Located on Carrer de Casanova in the Eixample, the restaurant sits comfortably away from the neon-lit, menu-with-pictures madness of the Gothic Quarter. This is the Eixample Esquerra, where the streets are wide and the locals have high standards. When you walk in, you aren't greeted by the smell of floor cleaner or generic 'Mediterranean' herbs. You’re hit with the heavy, intoxicating scent of carbón de encina—oak charcoal. It’s the smell of fire and history. The room is serious, a bit upscale but without the stifling pretension of the Michelin-starred joints that care more about the placement of your napkin than the quality of the beast on your plate.

Let’s talk about the meat, because that’s the only reason you’re here. The Sayagués ox is a beast that was nearly extinct, saved by a few dedicated farmers and chefs like Martínez. It’s lean, it’s powerful, and it tastes like the earth. Start with the cecina. If you think you know cured meat because you’ve had some supermarket jamón, prepare to be humbled. This is ox meat, cured until it’s deep, dark purple, almost black, with a funk and a depth that lingers on the palate like a heavy bass note. Then there are the croquettes. They are legendary for a reason—liquid gold centers spiked with that same intense ox meat, fried to a perfect, shattering crisp.

Then comes the main event: the 'carne a la piedra.' You hear it before you see it. The waiter brings out a slab of volcanic stone, heated to a temperature that would make a blacksmith sweat. The meat arrives sliced, raw, and marbled with the kind of fat that looks like lace. You lay it on the stone yourself. The hiss is immediate, a violent protest of protein against heat. You control the sear. You decide when it’s ready. It’s primal, it’s interactive, and it’s completely unapologetic. If you prefer your meat cooked in a vacuum bag by a guy in a lab coat, you’ve come to the wrong neighborhood.

Is it expensive? Yeah, it’s expensive. You’re paying for rarity, for the years it takes to raise these animals, and for the expertise of a man who knows exactly how to treat them. The wine list is equally serious, leaning heavily into the big, bold reds of Priorat and Ribera del Duero that can actually stand up to the intensity of the food. The service is professional, bordering on stern, but they know their stuff. They won't coddle you, but they will tell you exactly which cut of meat is singing that night.

Can Xurrades is the kind of place that reminds you why we started cooking with fire in the first place. It’s honest, it’s brutal, and it’s one of the best meat experiences you can have in Barcelona. Don't come here for a light salad or a 'gastronomic journey' involving foam and tweezers. Come here when you’re hungry, when you have money in your pocket, and when you want to remember what it’s like to be at the top of the food chain.