Bar Brutal

From the street it's just noise leaking through a doorway in Born, the happy racket of somewhere with no space left in it. We squeezed to the bar, and here is the moment I keep: I asked for something that fizzes, and instead of reciting, the man poured himself a thimble of the same bottle, tasted it with me, pulled a face at the first and opened a second. Tasting with you, never at you. That's the house style, and the list backs it up, fearless bottles that funk and surprise. Charcuterie and a few sharp small plates do the supporting work without getting precious. No bookings, so arrive early or accept the wait. Loud and tight, elbows everywhere, and I keep going back, because few rooms in Barcelona give the vi this much joy.