Scapar

Small complaint first: twelve seats means booking takes actual planning, and with Sundays and Mondays dark, your window shrinks fast. Worth the calendar math, though. The counter crowd up in Sarrià-Sant Gervasi is its own show — a hush of people who came to pay attention, phones mostly away, everyone tracking Koichi Kuwabara's hands as each piece arrives one at a time. No influencer energy, no birthday-party volume, just twelve strangers silently agreeing that the fish deserves this much seriousness. That kind of room changes how you eat; I slowed down without being told to. The omakase moves at its own measured pace by design, and on those terms it's very good. This isn't a weekly night out for me, more a few-times-a-year reset, but when I want Barcelona to go quiet for two hours, this counter is where I head.