Little Andaman

Let’s be honest about Indian food in Europe. Most of the time, you’re looking at a menu that’s been sanded down for the local palate—a beige sea of heavy cream, sugar, and enough food coloring to paint a house. It’s the culinary equivalent of a participation trophy. But then you walk into Little Andaman on Carrer de Muntaner, and the air smells different. It doesn’t smell like a generic spice mix; it smells like the sea, like toasted coconut, like curry leaves hitting hot oil with a violent hiss.

This isn’t your standard North Indian curry house. This is a love letter to the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, a place where the cuisine is dictated by the tides and the trade winds. The Anand family, who have been staples of the Barcelona Indian food scene for decades, decided to stop playing it safe and started showing people what coastal India actually tastes like. It’s a move that requires balls, especially in a city that sometimes thinks black pepper is an extreme sport.

The room itself avoids the usual kitsch. No gold-leaf elephants or sitar soundtracks on a loop. It’s turquoise, airy, and modern—the kind of place where you can actually see what you’re eating. And what you’re eating is a revelation. Start with the Prawn Moilee. It’s a dish that lives and dies by the quality of the coconut milk and the freshness of the ginger. Here, it’s a silky, golden bath of turmeric and tempered spices that makes you want to drink the bowl. Then there’s the sea bass wrapped in banana leaves, steamed until it’s just on the edge of falling apart, infused with a green chili and coriander chutney that wakes up parts of your brain you forgot you had.

If you’re the type who judges an Indian joint by its naan, you won’t be disappointed, but you’re missing the point. The real action is in the Appams and the Dosas—fermented rice pancakes that provide the perfect sour, crispy vehicle for the heavier stews. The lamb chops, charred and aggressive with spice, are a reminder that while the coast loves its fish, they know exactly what to do with a piece of meat and a tandoor.

Don’t sleep on the bar. Usually, 'Indian-inspired cocktails' means someone threw a cardamom pod into a gin and tonic and called it a day. Not here. The bartenders at Little Andaman are doing actual work. They’re using curry leaf-infused spirits, jaggery, and tamarind to create drinks that don't just sit next to the food but actively participate in the conversation. It’s one of the few places in Eixample where the cocktail program is as sophisticated as the kitchen.

Is it perfect? No. On a busy Friday night, the service can get a bit frantic, and the noise levels in the dining room can reach a dull roar that makes intimate conversation a challenge. It’s not a cheap eat, either. You’re paying Eixample prices for high-quality ingredients and a prime location. But for the chance to eat Indian food that hasn't been lobotomized for the masses? It’s a bargain. This is one of the best Indian restaurants in Barcelona because it respects the ingredients enough to let them be difficult, spicy, and unapologetically coastal.