Restaurant Insolent

Plaça del Sol is the beating, often rowdy heart of Gràcia. It’s a place where people sit on the stone ground drinking cheap beer, where children kick footballs against century-old walls, and where the air smells of rebellion and cheap tobacco. But at number 23, tucked into a corner that bridges the square and Carrer de Maspons, there is a different kind of energy. This is Restaurant Insolent, and it’s doing exactly what the name suggests: being bold, being a little bit defiant, and refusing to play by the tired rules of the Barcelona dining scene.

The project is the brainchild of four friends—Miquel García, Javier de la Casa, Pedro de la Casa, and Albert Teixidó. These aren't hobbyists. They are young, hungry professionals who decided that fine dining didn't need the suffocating weight of white tablecloths, hushed whispers, or waiters who look like they’re attending a funeral. They’ve created a space that feels like Gràcia—independent, slightly raw, and intensely focused on the craft. When you walk in, the first thing you notice is the open kitchen. There’s no wall between you and the sweat, the fire, and the precision. It’s honest. It’s theater without the pretense.

If you’re looking for the best modern Catalan Barcelona has to offer in 2025, this is your ground zero. The menu—or 'la carta' as the locals call it—is a tight, seasonal collection of dishes that respect the product but aren't afraid to mess with it. Take the croquetas, for instance. In a city drowning in mediocre fried béchamel, theirs stand out for their silkiness and depth. But the real heavy hitters are the rice dishes. The 'arroz de gamba roja' (red prawn rice) is a masterclass in extraction; it tastes like the very essence of the Mediterranean has been reduced, concentrated, and forced into every grain of rice. It’s a protein-heavy, umami-rich punch to the gut that reminds you why we bother eating out in the first place.

Then there is the xuixo. If you leave without eating the xuixo, you’ve failed the assignment. A xuixo is a classic pastry from Girona—deep-fried, sugar-coated, and filled with cream. At Insolent, they serve it with ratafia ice cream (a traditional Catalan herbal liqueur). It is a glorious, unapologetic caloric bomb. It’s the kind of dessert that makes you want to find the chef and shake his hand, or perhaps ask him for a place to nap. It’s become a cult favorite for a reason: it’s visceral, sweet, and perfectly executed.

The wine list is equally 'insolent,' leaning heavily into natural and local Catalan labels that actually have something to say. The service is informal but sharp. They know the menu, they know the wine, and they know that you’re probably there because you’re tired of the tourist traps on La Rambla. This is a restaurant in Gràcia for people who actually live in Barcelona, or at least want to eat like they do. It’s not cheap, but it’s fair. You’re paying for the technique, the ingredients, and the fact that four guys are working their asses off to give you something real.

Is it perfect? No. It can get loud when the square outside is in full swing, and the seating is intimate—which is a polite way of saying you’ll probably know what your neighbor is having for dinner. But that’s the point. It’s a living, breathing part of the neighborhood. It’s fine dining stripped of its ego and served up on a plate in one of the most vibrant barrios in the city. If you want a sanitized, quiet experience, go to a hotel lobby. If you want to feel the pulse of modern Barcelona, pull up a chair here.