Sabanna Barcelona

Step off the sun-bleached, tourist-choked pavement of Plaça de Catalunya and duck into Carrer de Jovellanos. You’re looking for Sabanna. It’s a relief, frankly. In a neighborhood where most menus are printed in six languages and accompanied by faded photos of frozen paella, this place feels like a dark, cool sanctuary for people who actually like to eat and drink without the theater of the 'authentic Spanish experience' being shoved down their throats.

The vibe is industrial-chic, but don't let that corporate-sounding label scare you off. It’s moody, dim, and stripped back—the kind of room that looks better after two drinks and a long day of navigating the human tide of the Rambla. It’s a cocktail bar that happens to serve serious food, or maybe a restaurant that understands a proper drink is the only way to start a meal. Either way, the priorities are straight.

Let’s talk about the cannelloni. In this part of the world, cannelloni is a litmus test. It’s a Catalan Sunday staple that too many places treat as an afterthought. At Sabanna, the duck cannelloni is the star of the show. It’s rich, gamey, and draped in a bechamel that’s been handled with actual respect. It’s the kind of dish that makes you lean back and realize that fusion doesn't have to be a dirty word. They play with Mediterranean roots but aren't afraid to throw a punch with Asian influences—think bao buns that don't suck and tuna tartare that tastes like the sea, not a refrigerator.

The croquettes—another benchmark—arrive with that essential crunch-to-ooze ratio. The truffle version is a crowd-pleaser for a reason; it’s unapologetically aromatic and heavy on the umami. Then there’s the octopus, charred just enough on the plancha to give it some backbone, served over a potato parmentier that’s smoother than a silk suit. It’s honest cooking. No foams, no dry ice, no bullshit. Just good ingredients treated with enough heat and seasoning to make them interesting.

But you’re here for the drinks too. The bar program at Sabanna isn't just an afterthought to wash down the tapas. These are balanced, thoughtful cocktails that lean into the 'garnish' culture without becoming a salad in a glass. Whether you’re after a sharp, citrusy refresher to cut through the humidity or something dark and stirred to end the night, the bartenders here know the mechanics. They aren't just pouring; they’re craftspeople working in a space that feels like a local secret, even though it’s sitting right in the belly of the beast.

The service? It’s Barcelona. It’s professional, occasionally brisk, but ultimately human. They aren't going to hover over you or fake a smile for a tip, and that’s exactly how it should be. You’re here to eat, drink, and talk over the low hum of the room. It’s a place for a date that you actually like, or a solo seat at the bar where you can watch the staff work the shakers like they mean it.

Is it the cheapest meal in the city? No. But for the quality of the output and the proximity to the center, it’s a steal. It’s one of those rare spots in Ciutat Vella where you don't feel like a mark. You’re just a person in a dark room with a cold drink and a plate of very good food. In this city, that’s a win every single time.