Hummus and Company

La Rambla is a meat grinder for the soul. It is a three-quarter-mile gauntlet of human misery, overpriced frozen paella, and neon-colored sangria that tastes like cough syrup and regret. It is the last place on earth any sane person would look for a decent meal. And yet, tucked into the chaos at number 67, Hummus and Company stands as a defiant outpost of culinary honesty. It doesn’t care about your Instagram filters or your desire for a 'charming' experience. It cares about the spit, the spice, and the smoke.

When you walk in, the first thing that hits you isn't the decor—which is functional at best—but the smell. It’s the scent of fat rendering off a vertical broiler, the sharp tang of tahini, and the earthy, deep thrum of cumin and coriander. This is the best shawarma Barcelona has to offer in a five-block radius, and quite possibly beyond. The vertical spit is a glistening, rotating cylinder of seasoned lamb and chicken, a totem of protein that the guys behind the counter carve with the precision of diamond cutters. They aren't here to make friends; they are here to feed the hungry masses who have realized that the tapas bar next door is a scam.

The shawarma here is a revelation of texture. You get those crispy, charred bits from the outside—the Maillard reaction in its purest form—contrasted with the tender, juice-dripping interior. It’s wrapped in a pita that’s been toasted just enough to hold the structural integrity of the beast together. When you add the house-made hummus, which is silky, nutty, and heavy on the lemon, you realize why this place has a line out the door while the 'traditional' Spanish joints nearby are begging for customers. It’s honest food at an honest price, a rare commodity in the heart of Ciutat Vella.

If you aren't a carnivore, the falafel here will make you reconsider your life choices. These aren't those dry, sandy pucks you find in supermarket aisles. These are vibrant, herb-flecked spheres of chickpea magic, fried to a dark mahogany crunch on the outside while remaining moist and neon-green on the inside. They are the gold standard for cheap eats in Barcelona, providing a protein-packed punch that can sustain you through a long night of wandering the Gothic Quarter or dodging pickpockets on the main drag.

The atmosphere is pure, unadulterated chaos. It’s cramped, the fluorescent lights are unforgiving, and you’ll likely be elbow-to-elbow with a backpacker from Melbourne and a local shopkeeper who just wants his lunch. But that’s the point. There is no pretension here. You come for the food, you eat it with your hands, and you leave satisfied. It is a halal food sanctuary near La Rambla that refuses to compromise its flavors for the bland palates of the cruise ship crowds.

Is it perfect? No. The service is brisk, bordering on indifferent. The seating is a game of musical chairs where nobody ever wins. But in a city that is increasingly being hollowed out by global franchises and sanitized tourist experiences, Hummus and Company feels like a piece of the real world. It’s a reminder that good food doesn't need a view or a wine list. It just needs a hot grill, a sharp knife, and someone who knows exactly what they’re doing with a handful of chickpeas and a dream of the Levant. If you’re looking for Lebanese food in Ciutat Vella that doesn't break the bank, this is your spot. Just don't expect a tablecloth.