Kaona | Restaurante Coctelería Bar Vermuteria

Sants is the kind of neighborhood that tourists usually only see through the smeared window of a taxi on their way from the airport or the train station. It’s a real place, a working-class stronghold that hasn’t yet been completely hollowed out by the soul-crushing machinery of mass tourism. And in the middle of this grit and honesty sits Kaona, a place that refuses to be just one thing. It calls itself a Restaurante Coctelería Bar Vermuteria, which is a mouthful, but in practice, it’s a high-voltage neighborhood joint that knows exactly what it is: a place to drink well, eat with your hands, and forget that tomorrow morning exists.

Walking into Kaona feels like stepping out of the gray Barcelona pavement and into a tropical-industrial fever dream. There’s neon. There’s exposed brick. There’s a bar that looks like it’s seen some things. It’s not the quiet, reverent atmosphere of a Michelin-starred temple; it’s loud, it’s buzzing, and the air smells like lime juice, fried cheese, and ambition. This is a tapas bar in Sants-Montjuïc that actually gives a damn about the 'bar' part of the equation.

The menu is a roadmap of migration and fusion. You’ve got the Catalan staples, sure, but the real heart of the kitchen beats with a Latin rhythm. You are here for the tequeños. If you haven’t had a proper tequeño—a spear of salty, white cheese wrapped in dough and fried until it’s a golden, molten weapon of mass destruction—then you haven’t lived. At Kaona, they serve them with a dip that cuts through the fat and makes you want to order a second round before you’ve finished the first. It’s the ultimate bar food, the kind of thing Bourdain would have torn into while leaning against the zinc, washing it down with a cold beer or a stiff vermouth.

But don’t stop at the cheese. The burgers here, specifically the Kaona Burger, are serious business—no-nonsense, juicy, and served without the pretension of a 'gourmet' label. The bao buns, particularly the ones stuffed with slow-cooked carrillera (beef cheek), show a kitchen that knows how to handle a braise. It’s a messy, glorious collision of flavors that shouldn't work in a neighborhood vermuteria, but somehow, under the glow of the neon, it makes perfect sense. This is some of the best fusion tapas Barcelona has to offer in 2025, precisely because it doesn't feel like it's trying to win an award; it's just trying to feed you.

Then there are the cocktails. In a city where 'cocktail bar' often means a guy in a waistcoat charging you twenty euros for a drink that tastes like a perfume factory, Kaona is a relief. The bartenders here are fast, precise, and they don't skimp on the booze. Whether you’re looking for a classic Negroni to kick off the night or one of their signature tropical-leaning creations, the balance is there. It’s the kind of place where the music—often curated by a DJ who actually knows their vinyl—dictates the pace of your drinking.

Is it perfect? No. If you’re looking for a quiet, romantic corner to whisper sweet nothings, you’re in the wrong zip code. The service is friendly but can be frantic when the Sants locals descend en masse on a Friday night. It gets loud. You might have to shout to be heard over the bass. But that’s the point. Kaona is a reminder that the best nights out aren't spent in hushed galleries, but in crowded rooms with good people, strong drinks, and a plate of fried cheese. It’s honest, it’s raw, and it’s exactly what a neighborhood bar should be.