NORI SUSHI Putxet

Let’s get one thing straight: you don’t come to Sarrià-Sant Gervasi to see the dancing fountains or to get your pocket picked on the Rambla. You come up here, away from the humid, sweat-soaked chaos of the center, because you want to see how the city actually breathes. You’re on Carrer de Ballester, a street that doesn't care if you're a tourist. And tucked into this residential quiet is NORI SUSHI Putxet, a place that understands that sushi isn't just about cold fish on rice—it’s about the visceral satisfaction of a well-executed idea.

Walking in, you realize quickly this isn't one of those minimalist temples of doom where you’re afraid to cough. It’s intimate, modern, and humming with the energy of people who live three blocks away and know exactly what they’re here for. There’s no pretension here, just a kitchen that knows how to handle a blowtorch and a knife. It’s the kind of spot where the lighting is just dim enough to make the world outside disappear, leaving you alone with your appetite and a bottle of dry white wine.

The menu is a roadmap of Japanese-Mediterranean-Nikkei collision, and the undisputed king of the hill is the foie gras. They don't just place it on the rice; they treat it with the respect a piece of fatty duck liver deserves. It’s torched until it’s screaming, caramelizing into a rich, decadent mess that coats the palate and makes you wonder why we ever eat anything else. It’s a protein rush, pure and simple. Then there’s the ceviche, a sharp, acidic counterpunch to the richness of the rolls, reminding you that the influence of Peru on the Japanese kitchen is one of the greatest things to happen to modern dining.

But here’s the real kicker, the thing that usually kills the vibe in most high-end sushi joints: the gluten-free situation. Usually, if you’re a celiac, you’re relegated to a sad bowl of edamame and a look of pity from the waiter. Not here. NORI SUSHI Putxet has become a legitimate pilgrimage site for the gluten-intolerant. They’ve figured out how to make the crunch, the sauces, and the complexity work without the wheat, and they do it so well you won’t even notice the difference. It’s an inclusive kind of excellence that’s rare in a city that often treats dietary restrictions as a personal insult to the chef.

You finish with the cheesecake. Forget the dry, crumbly nonsense you find in most cafes. This is a creamy, decadent sign-off that feels more like a reward for surviving the day than a mere dessert. It’s the kind of meal that leaves you feeling satisfied but not weighed down, ready to walk back down the hill toward the lights of the city.

Is it the cheapest sushi in Barcelona? No. Is it a three-Michelin-star silent meditation? Thankfully, no. It’s an honest, high-quality neighborhood joint that punches way above its weight class. If you’re tired of the tourist traps and the overpriced 'fusion' nonsense in the Gothic Quarter, take the trek up to Putxet. Sit down, order the foie gras uramaki, and remember why we travel in the first place: to find the places that the locals are trying to keep for themselves.