Restaurant Sintonia

Walking down Carrer del Rosselló, you’re in the thick of the Eixample grid—all wide boulevards, high-end boutiques, and the kind of frantic energy that makes you want to duck into the nearest dark corner with a stiff drink. Most hotel restaurants in this zip code are sterile, overpriced traps designed to separate tourists from their Euros with the promise of 'authentic' tapas. But Restaurant Sintonia is the exception that proves the rule. Tucked into the Gallery Hotel but breathing its own air, this is where Chef Pablo Tomás—a man who’s done hard time in the kitchens of El Bulli and Arzak—decided to stop playing with foams and start cooking food that hits you in the gut.

This isn't a place for the faint of heart or the calorie-conscious. You come here for the steak tartar. It’s a performance, sure, but it’s one rooted in craft. They wheel the cart over, and you watch as they hand-hack the beef, seasoning it to your specific level of masochism. But the real move—the one that’s all over the internet for a reason—is the smoked croissant. It sounds like a gimmick, the kind of thing a PR firm dreams up to get clicks. It isn’t. It’s a buttery, flaky, smoke-infused vessel for that raw, seasoned protein. It’s rich, it’s decadent, and it’s exactly what you want when you’re three Gin and Tonics deep into a long Barcelona night.

The space itself manages to be both cavernous and intimate. There’s a Scotch Bar that looks like it belongs in a mid-century noir film, all dark wood and low lighting, and then there’s the 'Patio de Manzana'—one of those interior courtyards that makes Eixample the only neighborhood worth living in. It’s a sanctuary from the noise of the city, a place where you can actually hear yourself think while you tear into a plate of braised beef cannelloni. Those cannelloni are a nod to Catalan tradition, smothered in a truffle cream that’s so thick it should probably be illegal. It’s the kind of dish that reminds you why people have been eating this way for centuries.

Tomás isn't trying to reinvent the wheel here; he’s just making the wheel better. The menu is a tightrope walk between high-end technique and no-nonsense Mediterranean flavors. You’ll find rice dishes that have that perfect, slightly burnt crust on the bottom—the socarrat—and grilled octopus that hasn't been tortured into submission. It’s honest cooking from a guy who knows all the tricks but chooses not to use them unless they actually make the food taste better.

Is it expensive? Yeah, it’s not a bodega. You’re paying for the pedigree, the location, and the fact that someone is hand-cutting your dinner at your table. The service is professional, bordering on stiff, but they know their way around the wine list. If you’re looking for a cheap eat in Barcelona, keep walking. But if you want a meal that feels like a reward for surviving the crowds at La Pedrera, this is your spot. It’s a place for grown-ups who still like to get their hands a little greasy. Just don't skip the tartar. If you do, you’ve missed the entire point of being here.