Mar i Terra Arenas

There’s something deeply weird, and perhaps a little poetic, about eating dinner in a place where bulls used to die for sport. Las Arenas was once a neo-Mudéjar bullring, a circular monument to blood and sand. Today, it’s a shopping mall. Usually, that’s a sentence that makes me want to reach for a stiff drink and a fast exit, but Mar i Terra Arenas is the exception that proves the rule. Located on the 'Cúpula'—the massive rooftop terrace—this place manages to transcend its zip code inside a consumerist temple.

You take the glass elevator up, leaving the Zara-scented air behind, and step out onto a 360-degree walkway where the wind whips off Montjuïc and the city is laid out like a glowing map. Mar i Terra isn't trying to be a Michelin-starred temple of molecular foam. It’s a Mediterranean grill that understands the assignment: give the people fire, salt, and a view that makes the wine taste better. The kitchen is anchored by a serious respect for the product, leaning heavily into the charcoal-grilled traditions that define the best Mediterranean restaurant Barcelona experiences for those who know where to look.

Let’s talk about the meat. The reviews mention the 'skirt steak'—the entraña—with a frequency that borders on the religious. It’s a cut for people who actually like the taste of beef, not some buttery, characterless filet. Here, it’s hit with high heat, seasoned with an aggressive hand, and served with the kind of char that speaks of a kitchen that isn't afraid of the flame. It’s juicy, iron-rich, and exactly what you want when you’re sitting above the chaotic swirl of traffic in Plaça d'Espanya. If you aren't in a carnivorous mood, the Arroz Negro (black rice) is a dark, briny deep-dive into the Mediterranean, stained with squid ink and served with a dollop of alioli that doesn't apologize for its garlic content.

The atmosphere is a strange, beautiful collision. You’ve got tourists who wandered up after seeing the Magic Fountain, locals who know the grill is consistent, and the occasional group taking 'shots'—a detail that pops up in the reviews like a neon sign. It’s lively, it’s loud, and it’s unpretentious. The service is fast—sometimes bordering on the brisk—but that’s the energy of the place. It’s a high-volume operation that somehow keeps its soul intact. You aren't here for a four-hour contemplative silence; you’re here for the buzz of a city in motion.

Is it a tourist trap? Look, any restaurant on top of a landmark mall near a major metro hub is going to have its share of cameras and backpacks. But the locals wouldn't keep coming back if the food was garbage. The price-to-quality ratio is surprisingly fair for the Eixample neighborhood, especially considering you’re paying for a front-row seat to one of the best sunsets in the city. When the lights of the MNAC museum flicker on across the plaza and the smell of grilled octopus hits the air, you stop caring that there’s a Fnac three floors below you. It’s honest food in a spectacular, if unlikely, setting. If you’re looking for restaurants near Plaça d'Espanya that offer more than just a soggy sandwich, this is your spot. Just make sure to grab a table on the terrace if the weather is even remotely cooperating. The interior is fine, but the soul of Mar i Terra is out there, under the sky, watching the world go by.