Rekons

The intersection of Carrer del Comte d'Urgell and Manso is a place where the real Barcelona still puts up a fight. It’s a crossroads of rattling buses, old men clutching newspapers, and the unmistakable scent of toasted flour and rendered fat wafting from a corner spot that refuses to be anything other than what it is. This is Rekons. It’s an Argentinian outpost in the heart of the Sant Antoni neighborhood, and if you’re looking for white tablecloths and fawning service, you’ve wandered into the wrong movie.

Originally an old-school 'Granja'—one of those traditional Catalan dairy shops—Rekons kept the name and the soul but swapped the milk for malbec and the pastries for some of the best empanadas in Barcelona. The vibe is industrial-shabby: high ceilings, worn wooden tables, and a frantic energy that suggests everyone inside is either in the middle of a heated debate or about to start one. It’s loud, it’s crowded, and the staff moves with the kind of weary efficiency that comes from serving a thousand pockets of dough a day to a hungry, demanding public.

Let’s talk about the empanadas, or what some confused reviewers call 'dumplings.' These aren't delicate little things. They are sturdy, golden-brown crescents with perfectly crimped edges—the 'repulgue'—that hold back a tide of flavor. The Carne Picante is the benchmark. It’s a punchy, spicy mix of beef that actually tastes like beef, not some mystery mash. Then there’s the Humita, a sweet and savory corn filling that’s a direct line to the streets of Buenos Aires. They offer dozens of varieties, from the traditional onion and cheese to more adventurous fillings like pumpkin and goat cheese or spicy chicken. You grab a pencil, mark your choices on a paper slip, and wait for the magic to happen.

But Rekons isn't just a one-trick pony. While the empanadas are the draw, the kitchen turns out surprisingly soulful salads and bocadillos that put the soggy sandwiches of La Rambla to shame. The 'Rekons' salad is a mountain of greens, seeds, and goodness that makes you feel slightly less guilty about the three empanadas you just inhaled. And then there’s the vermouth. In this part of town, vermouth isn't just a drink; it’s a religion. Served cold with an olive and a slice of orange, it’s the only way to navigate a Sunday afternoon on their terrace.

The terrace is, quite frankly, a battlefield. Securing a table on the sidewalk is a feat of timing and luck. It’s the ultimate vantage point for watching the neighborhood evolve. You’ll see the old-timers who remember when this was a dairy shop sitting next to the new wave of Sant Antoni hipsters, all of them united by the simple, visceral pleasure of eating with their hands.

Is it perfect? No. The service can be brusque when the rush hits. You might have to wait for a table while breathing in bus exhaust. The interior can get hot enough to make you question your life choices. But that’s the point. Rekons is honest. It’s a place that understands that good food doesn't need to be dressed up in lace and lies. It’s about the crunch of the crust, the heat of the filling, and the cold bite of the wine. It’s a reminder that in a city increasingly polished for tourists, there are still corners where the grease is real and the soul is intact. If you want the best Argentinian restaurant in Eixample without the pretension, pull up a chair and get your hands dirty.