Esplanada bar restaurante

If you find yourself in Montbau, you aren’t here for the Gaudí-saturated fever dreams of the Eixample. You’re here because you have business at the university, you’re visiting the hospital, or you actually live in this concrete-and-hillside slice of the Horta-Guinardó district. This is the real Barcelona—the one that doesn’t care if you like the lighting or if the menu is translated into six languages. Esplanada bar restaurante sits on the Pla de Montbau like a stubborn anchor, serving the kind of unvarnished, utilitarian fuel that keeps a neighborhood running.

Walking up to Pla de Montbau, 3, you aren't greeted by a velvet rope or a host with a tablet. You get a terrace with plastic chairs and the ambient hum of a residential square. It’s a bar and grill in the most literal sense. Inside, the air carries the faint, honest perfume of the plancha—seared meat, olive oil, and the occasional hiss of a coffee machine that’s been working overtime since 7:00 AM. The decor is secondary to the function; it’s a lounge only in the sense that people sit there for a long time, but don't expect velvet sofas. Expect tile floors, sturdy tables, and the kind of atmosphere where you can hear the local news playing on a TV in the corner.

The food here is the gospel of the 'plato combinado.' We’re talking about the holy trinity of protein, potatoes, and maybe a lonely green pepper or a fried egg if you’re feeling decadent. It’s not 'gastronomy.' It’s lunch. The menu leans heavily into the classics: patatas bravas that haven't been deconstructed by a chemistry set, croquetas that taste like they were made by someone who actually knows what a béchamel is, and bocadillos—those glorious Spanish sandwiches—stuffed with lomo, bacon, or tortilla. It’s the kind of food that demands a cold Estrella or a glass of house red that costs less than a liter of petrol.

You’ll see the regulars here—the students from the nearby Mundet campus looking for cheap eats in Barcelona, the hospital workers from Vall d'Hebron decompressing after a shift, and the older men who have likely occupied the same corner stool since the transition to democracy. There is a specific, quiet dignity in a place like this. It doesn't try to be a 'hidden gem.' It just is. The service can be indifferent, sure. You might have to wave a hand to get a second round. But that’s the trade-off for authenticity. They aren't performing for you; they’re running a business for the people who live next door.

Is it worth the trek from the city center? Probably not if you only have forty-eight hours in the city. But if you are exploring the Laberint d'Horta or find yourself wandering the northern edges of the city, Esplanada offers a necessary reality check. It’s a reminder that behind the tourism brochures and the boutique hotels, there is a city of five-euro gin and tonics and grease-slicked napkins. It’s honest, it’s rough around the edges, and it’s exactly what a neighborhood bar should be. Go for the terrace, stay for the lack of pretension, and don't expect a miracle—just a decent meal and a moment of peace in a part of town that the tour buses forgot.