Contracorrent Bar

Fort Pienc isn’t the Barcelona you see on the postcards. It’s not the Gothic Quarter’s labyrinth of damp stone or the Eixample’s high-fashion grid. It’s a neighborhood of real people, wide streets, and the kind of quiet that makes the tourist hordes feel like a bad dream. And right there, on Carrer de Ribes, sits Contracorrent Bar—a place whose name literally means 'against the current.' It’s a fitting title for a joint that refuses to play the hits for the cruise ship crowd.

Walking into Contracorrent feels like stumbling into the living room of two people who decided that life was too short to drink bad wine or eat industrial food. That duo is Chef Nicola Drago and sommelier Anna Bozzano. They aren't interested in the theater of fine dining. There are no white tablecloths, no scripted greetings, and absolutely no bullshit. It’s a compact, functional space where the energy is focused entirely on what’s in the glass and what’s sizzling on the plancha.

Let’s talk about the wine, because that’s the heartbeat of this place. If you think natural wine is just cloudy vinegar for people with expensive glasses, Anna will politely—or perhaps firmly—correct you. This is one of the best natural wine bars in Barcelona because the selection is curated with a deep, visceral respect for the land and the producer. We’re talking about living wines, bottles that tell a story of a specific hillside in Catalunya or a forgotten vineyard in Italy. It’s funky, it’s alive, and it’s served without an ounce of pretension.

Then there’s Nicola’s kitchen. It’s a small operation, but the flavors are massive. This is a tapas bar in Eixample that understands the power of the 'platillo'—those small, shared plates that are the backbone of Catalan social life. The menu changes with the whims of the market, but if the steak tartar is on the board, you order it. It’s hand-cut, seasoned with an aggressive intelligence, and often served with a twist that makes you wonder why everyone else is doing it so wrong. The ensaladilla rusa here isn’t the gloopy mess you find at the airport; it’s elevated with smoked eel, a salty, fatty punch to the gut that demands another sip of whatever orange wine Anna just poured you.

The atmosphere is loud, cramped, and beautiful. It’s the sound of glasses clinking, the hiss of the kitchen, and the low hum of locals who know they’ve found something special. It’s the kind of place where you might start the night with a quick glass and end it three hours later, deep in a conversation about soil pH with a stranger at the next table.

Is it perfect? No. If you’re looking for a quiet, romantic corner to whisper sweet nothings, the acoustics here will fight you. The service can be brisk when the room is packed, which is basically always. But that’s the trade-off for authenticity. You come here for the honesty. You come here because you’re tired of the 'gastronomic adventures' promised by PR firms and you just want a plate of grilled leeks that taste like the earth they came from. Contracorrent is a reminder that the best meals aren't about the view or the decor—they're about the courage to do things differently, one glass of funky wine at a time.