El Racó de Sarrià. Pizzeria Mediterrània.

Sarrià is not the Barcelona you see on the postcards. There are no gothic gargoyles looming over you, and the air doesn’t smell like stale beer and desperation. This is the 'uptown'—the Zona Alta—where the streets are wider, the trees are greener, and the residents have the kind of quiet wealth that doesn’t need to shout. It’s a neighborhood of families, of old money, and of people who just want a decent meal without having to elbow a backpacker out of the way. El Racó de Sarrià fits into this ecosystem like a well-worn leather loafer.

Located on Carrer de Santa Fe de Nou Mèxic, just a stone's throw from the manicured lawns of Turó Parc, El Racó doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel. It’s a 'Pizzeria Mediterrània,' a label that tells you exactly what you’re getting: thin, crispy crusts topped with the bounty of the region rather than the heavy, doughy gut-bombs of the American franchise world. When you walk in, you’re hit with the hum of a neighborhood in motion. This isn't a temple of gastronomy; it’s a living room for the barrio. You’ll see three generations of a Catalan family arguing over a bottle of Penedès wine, and couples on dates trying to look sophisticated while navigating a string of melted cheese.

Let’s talk about the food, because that’s why you’re here. You start with the croquettes. In Barcelona, the croqueta is the ultimate litmus test for a kitchen’s soul. If they’re frozen, the kitchen has given up on life. Here, they are the real deal—creamy, molten centers encased in a breading that shatters like glass. The ham (pernil) is the classic choice, but don't sleep on the mushroom variety if they're on the board. They are the perfect, salty precursor to the main event.

The pizzas are unapologetically Mediterranean. We’re talking about a base that is thin enough to be dangerous, charred just enough to give you that bitter, smoky hit that balances the fat of the cheese. The 'Pizza de Sobrassada i Mel' is the one that captures the spirit of the place—Majorcan spicy sausage softened by a drizzle of honey. It’s a sweet-and-savory punch to the throat that reminds you exactly where you are in the world. If you’re feeling less adventurous, the classics are handled with a level of respect that borders on the religious. The ingredients are fresh, the olive oil is high-quality, and the prices—especially for this zip code—are shockingly reasonable.

Is it a chain? Technically, yes. El Racó is part of a larger Catalan group. But forget what you know about chains. In this part of the world, a successful group often means they’ve figured out how to maintain quality across the board. This specific outpost feels like a one-off, deeply rooted in the Sarrià-Sant Gervasi soil. The service is efficient, bordering on brisk, which is exactly what you want when the room is full and the hunger is real. They aren't going to be your best friends, but they’ll get that pizza to your table while the steam is still rising.

If you’re looking for a 'gastronomic adventure' with foam and tweezers, go back to the Eixample. But if you want to see how the real Barcelona eats when the sun goes down—without the pretense, without the tourist tax, and with a damn good crust—this is your spot. It’s honest, it’s reliable, and it’s exactly what a neighborhood restaurant should be.