Izakaya Barcelona Gastro & Sushi (antiguo GENSÕ)

Sant Andreu is not the Barcelona you see on postcards. It doesn’t care about your Instagram feed or your desire for a 'curated experience.' It’s a neighborhood that feels like a village, where people actually live, work, and—most importantly—eat without the shadow of a cruise ship looming over them. This is where you find Izakaya Barcelona Gastro & Sushi, a place that used to be called GENSÕ but has since leaned harder into its identity as a neighborhood sanctuary for those who want their raw fish served with a side of soul.

Walking into this spot on Carrer de Biscaia, you realize immediately that it isn’t trying to be a Zen temple. It’s an izakaya in the truest sense: a place to drink, to linger, and to eat food that punches you in the mouth. The lighting is low, the vibe is thick with the chatter of locals, and the air smells like soy, seared fat, and ambition. It’s the kind of room where you can feel the heat from the kitchen and the collective sigh of relief from people who’ve just finished a long shift.

The menu is what they call 'Japanized Western,' which is usually a phrase that makes me want to run for the hills. But here, it works because they aren't just slapping miso on a burger and calling it a day. They are doing something far more interesting. Take the rabo de toro—Spanish oxtail, braised until it’s a weeping, gelatinous mess of pure flavor—and then tucked into a bao or a gyoza. It’s a collision of cultures that makes perfect sense once it hits your tongue. It’s heavy, it’s rich, and it’s exactly what you want with a cold beer.

Then there’s the sushi. In a city flooded with mediocre, refrigerated rice and tired salmon, Izakaya Barcelona actually puts in the work. The rolls are creative without being gimmicky, and the fish has that clean, oceanic snap that tells you someone behind the counter actually gives a damn. And yeah, they serve Pad Thai. Purists might scoff, but when you see it landing on almost every table, you realize that in a neighborhood joint like this, the only rule that matters is whether it tastes good. And it does. It’s got that funk, that heat, and that messy joy that defines great street food.

Is it perfect? No. The service can be frantic when the house is full, and if you’re looking for a quiet, white-tablecloth evening, you’ve come to the wrong part of town. It’s loud, it’s cramped, and you might have to wait for a table even on a Tuesday. But that’s the price of admission for authenticity. You’re here for the food and the friction of a room full of people enjoying themselves.

If you’re staying in the Gothic Quarter and think Sant Andreu is too far to travel for dinner, stay where you are. Enjoy your frozen croquettes and your watered-down sangria. But if you want to see where the real city eats—where the fusion isn't a marketing gimmick but a way of life—get on the L1 metro and head north. Look for the glow on Carrer de Biscaia. Order the oxtail, get a bottle of something cold, and remind yourself why you started traveling in the first place. It wasn't for the landmarks; it was for moments like this, in rooms like this, eating food that makes you feel alive.