Windsor

When the bill arrived I checked it twice, not from alarm but from mild disbelief that cooking this careful in the Dreta de l'Eixample costs what it does. Booking had been painless, the table held without fuss, and everything between those two moments was Catalan cooking of the dressed-up kind that never forgets where it comes from. The pride of the house is no single plate but the market itself: whatever the season sends arrives treated with respect and a little polish, classic technique underneath, nothing cluttering the top. Service moves calmly, the way a good dining room should breathe. This is where I come when I want to eat properly, senza spettacolo, and be looked after by people who understand why that matters. Every few months, a long lunch here puts the rest of the district in order.