Casa Escarré

Sants is a neighborhood that doesn’t give a damn about your travel itinerary. It’s a place of narrow streets, old-school plazas, and people who have lived here since before the city became a theme park for the cruise ship crowd. It’s exactly where you’d expect to find a place like Casa Escarré—a spot that refuses to be anything other than what it is: a high-end Italian deli that happens to serve some of the best food in the city.

Walking into Casa Escarré, you aren't greeted by a hostess with a headset or a curated playlist of chill-out lounge beats. You’re greeted by the sight of a Berkel slicer and the intoxicating, fatty perfume of high-grade mortadella. This is a charcutería first and foremost. The walls are lined with bottles of wine and jars of preserves, and the counter is a glass-encased jewelry box of cheeses and cured meats imported directly from the source. It’s small, it’s cramped, and if you’re looking for a white-tablecloth experience, you’ve wandered into the wrong zip code. This is a place for people who respect the ingredient.

The star of the show here is the pinsa. For the uninitiated, pinsa is the older, lighter, and arguably superior cousin of the pizza. The dough at Casa Escarré undergoes a 72-hour fermentation process, resulting in a crust that is impossibly airy, crisp on the outside, and cloud-like on the inside. It’s the kind of bread that makes you realize how much mediocre dough you’ve settled for in your life. When they top it with that mortadella—sliced so thin it’s translucent—and a generous dusting of crushed pistachios, it’s a revelation. It’s a protein-heavy, carb-loaded high that hits you right in the lizard brain.

But don't just stop at the pinsa. You’re in an Italian deli in the heart of Sants-Montjuïc; you eat the embutidos. The burrata here doesn't just sit there; it oozes with a creamy center that demands to be mopped up with whatever bread is within reach. The pistachio cream, which seems to find its way into both savory and sweet dishes, is a recurring theme that you won't mind one bit. It’s rich, nutty, and dangerously addictive.

The service is what I’d call 'neighborhood honest.' They aren't going to fawn over you, but they know their product. They know which wine pairs with the funk of a specific pecorino and they know exactly how long that pinsa needs to stay in the heat to reach structural perfection. It’s a business run by people who clearly love what they do, serving a crowd of locals who know they’ve got a good thing going and are probably slightly annoyed that the secret is getting out.

Is it perfect? No. It’s tiny, so if you show up at peak Spanish dining hours without a plan, you’re going to be standing on the sidewalk looking through the window like a hungry orphan. The menu is focused, which is a polite way of saying if you don't like Italian cold cuts or dough, you’re out of luck. But for those of us who believe that a meal should be an honest exchange of quality for currency, Casa Escarré is a sanctuary. It’s one of the best Italian restaurants in Sants because it doesn't try to be a restaurant at all—it just tries to be the best deli you’ve ever sat down in. If you're looking for authentic Italian food in Barcelona that hasn't been watered down for the masses, this is your spot. Just don't tell too many people; I’d still like to be able to get a seat next time I’m in the neighborhood.