Habibi Street Food

Walk down Carrer de Morales and the first thing that hits you isn’t the salt air of the Mediterranean or the smell of expensive perfume from the nearby shopping malls. It’s the smell of fat hitting a heating element. It’s the scent of cumin, coriander, and garlic performing a slow-motion dance on a vertical broiler. This is Habibi Street Food, and if you’re looking for a white tablecloth or a waiter who bows, you’ve wandered into the wrong neighborhood. This is Les Corts, a part of Barcelona that actually works for a living, and this tiny storefront is doing the Lord’s work for anyone who values a honest meal over a curated Instagram feed.

Most people think they know shawarma. They’ve had those sad, gray, mystery-meat logs at 3:00 AM when they were too drunk to care. Forget that. Habibi is a different animal entirely. When you walk in, you see the meat—real layers of chicken or beef, stacked with intent, rotating slowly until the edges are charred to a perfect, crispy mahogany. There’s no artifice here. It’s just a man, a knife, and a spit. You watch them shave off those ribbons of protein, the steam rising as they hit the wrap, and you realize that this is what fast food was meant to be before the accountants got ahold of it.

The menu is tight, which is always a good sign. You’ve got your shawarma, your falafel, and your halloumi. But the move here—the thing that’ll make you question your life choices—is the Habibi Fries. This isn’t just a side dish; it’s a full-scale assault. They take a mountain of fries and load them with your choice of meat, douse them in house-made sauces that actually have a kick, and top it all off with enough fresh herbs to make it feel like a salad (it’s not). It’s messy, it’s glorious, and you will absolutely need a stack of napkins and a moment of silence afterward. The falafel is equally legit—crispy on the outside, vibrant green on the inside, and tasting of actual chickpeas and herbs rather than sawdust.

The vibe is strictly functional. It’s clean, modern, and bright, but it’s built for the high-speed turnover of a neighborhood that doesn't have time to linger. You’ll see office workers from the nearby towers, locals who’ve lived in Les Corts since before the Olympics, and the occasional savvy traveler who realized that the best shawarma Barcelona has to offer isn't found on La Rambla. There’s a sense of pride in the assembly here. The pita isn't just a vessel; it’s toasted until it has some backbone. The vegetables are crunchy. The tahini doesn't taste like it came out of a gallon drum.

Is it perfect? If you’re looking for a romantic date night with a view of the Sagrada Familia, absolutely not. It’s small, it can get crowded, and you’re probably going to leave with a little garlic sauce on your shirt. But that’s the point. Habibi Street Food is an honest joint. It’s one of those rare places where the quality of the food far outstrips the price tag. In a city that is increasingly being hollowed out by tourist traps and overpriced 'fusion' concepts, finding a place that just does one thing—meat on a spit—and does it with this much soul is a win. It’s the kind of cheap eats Barcelona needs more of: unpretentious, consistent, and deeply satisfying. If you find yourself in Les Corts, do yourself a favor. Skip the mall food court, find Carrer de Morales, and let the smell of roasting meat guide you home.