NANA restaurante - brasa // Charcoal Grill

If you’re looking for a white-tablecloth temple of gastronomy where waiters move like ghosts and the portions are designed for ants, keep walking. NANA restaurante - brasa is not that place. Located in the heart of El Clot, a neighborhood in Sant Martí that still feels like a village despite the encroaching glass towers of Glòries, NANA is about the primal relationship between fire, smoke, and high-quality ingredients. It sits right on the Plaça del Mercat, literally in the shadow of the Mercat del Clot, which tells you everything you need to know about where their produce comes from. This is one of the best charcoal grill Barcelona spots for people who actually live here.

The first thing that hits you when you cross the threshold isn't a hostess's rehearsed greeting; it’s the smell. It’s the scent of holm oak charcoal doing its work in a Josper oven, that beautiful, heavy-duty beast of a machine that bridges the gap between a grill and an oven. The interior is industrial but warm—exposed brick, dark wood, and a view of the kitchen where you can see the chefs wrestling with the heat. It’s a place that feels lived-in, buzzing with the kind of energy you only get when a restaurant is a genuine neighborhood anchor.

You’re here for the 'brasa.' Start with the pulpo a la brasa (grilled octopus). It’s a cliché in Barcelona, sure, but here it’s done with a level of respect that makes it feel new again—charred on the outside to a crisp, tender enough on the inside to give way without a fight, usually served over a silky potato foam that actually tastes like potato. If they have the grilled artichokes on the menu, don't think, just order them. They come out blackened at the tips, sweet and earthy, tasting of the earth and the fire.

Then there’s the rice. While the city is full of tourist-trap paellas that look like yellow plastic, NANA serves the real deal. Their arroz de montaña (mountain rice) is a masterclass in depth of flavor—rich, savory, and packed with the kind of 'socarrat' (that caramelized crust at the bottom of the pan) that people have been known to start family feuds over. It’s not just a meal; it’s a commitment. The meat, too, is handled with a light touch and heavy heat. Whether it’s the entraña (skirt steak) or a massive chuletón, it arrives with that unmistakable charcoal crust that you simply can’t replicate on a gas stove.

What makes NANA special isn't just the food, though. It’s the location. Sitting on the terrace on a Saturday afternoon, watching the locals haul their shopping bags out of the Mercat del Clot while kids kick a ball around the square, you realize this is the Barcelona that the guidebooks often miss. It’s unpretentious. It’s loud. It’s real. The service is efficient and professional, but they don't have time for your nonsense—they’re too busy making sure the next tray of rice doesn't overcook.

Is it perfect? No. It gets loud, the terrace can be a scramble to get into, and if you’re looking for a quiet, romantic whisper-fest, the clatter of plates and the roar of the square might ruin your vibe. But if you want to understand what Mediterranean grilling is supposed to be—simple, ingredient-driven, and kissed by fire—this is where you go. It’s an honest restaurant in an honest neighborhood, and in a city increasingly polished for the cameras, that’s worth its weight in gold.