Robata

Enric Granados is the kind of street that makes you want to buy a linen suit and pretend you have a trust fund. It’s the Eixample’s leafy, pedestrian-friendly runway, lined with places designed to look good on camera. But Robata isn’t just another pretty face in the crowd. When you step inside, the first thing that hits you isn't the decor—though the dark, industrial-chic vibe is undeniably sexy—it’s the smell. It’s the primal, unmistakable scent of binchotan charcoal doing its dirty work.

This is a modern izakaya, but don't expect a quiet, zen-like temple where you have to whisper to your nigiri. Robata is loud, high-energy, and unapologetically busy. It’s the brainchild of Chef Fabiola Lairet, one of the few women in the world to hold the title of Sushi Chef. She’s managed to bridge the gap between the surgical precision of Japanese knife work and the smoky, soul-satisfying char of the robata grill. It’s a combination that shouldn’t work this well, but here we are.

The heart of the operation is the grill. You see the flames leaping up behind the counter, licking at skewers of meat and vegetables. The anticuchos are a nod to the Nikkei influence—Peruvian-style skewers that are charred on the outside, tender on the inside, and hit with enough spice to remind you you’re alive. The chicken skin is a masterclass in texture: crispy, salty, and dangerously addictive. It’s the kind of food that demands a cold beer and zero conversation until the plate is clean.

Then there’s the sushi. In a city where 'fusion' is often a polite word for 'messy,' Lairet’s rolls are remarkably disciplined. The 'Bad Boy' roll is a local legend for a reason, but the real test is the nigiri. The fish is pristine, the rice is at the correct temperature—a detail most places in Barcelona still fail at—and the seasoning is handled with a light touch. It’s authentic Japanese soul filtered through a sophisticated, urban lens. You aren't just eating best sushi in Barcelona; you're eating a vision of what modern Japanese food can be when it stops trying to please everyone and starts focusing on the ingredients.

But here’s the curveball: the cake. It sounds wrong to go to a high-end Japanese joint and talk about the dessert menu, but Robata’s cakes are a phenomenon in their own right. The 'Cakes by Fabiola' section of the menu is legendary. The lemon pie is a towering architectural feat of meringue and citrus, and the chocolate cake is a dense, dark, rich slab of pure indulgence. It’s a weird, wonderful pivot from the delicate flavors of raw fish, but by the time you’re three bites in, you won't care about the contradiction.

Is it perfect? No. If you’re looking for a budget-friendly 'cheap eats Barcelona' experience, you’re in the wrong neighborhood. The service can be frantic when the room is full—which is always—and you’ll likely be squeezed in close to your neighbors. But that’s part of the deal. You come here for the energy, the smoke, and the certainty that someone in the kitchen actually gives a damn about the char on your asparagus. It’s one of the best restaurants in Eixample because it refuses to be boring. It’s a place for a date you want to impress or a group of friends who don't mind shouting over the din of a successful Saturday night. Just make sure you book ahead, or you’ll be left on the sidewalk with the rest of the people looking in through the glass.