Even more reviews of restaurants that my five friends reading this blog will most likely never eat at.
Mosquito
Barrio: La Ribera
Address: Carrer de Carders, 46
Price Range: Fairly Cheap
The duck. The motherfucking duck. Whoooooweeee. The most flavorful crispy skin ever (actual fact, not hyperbole). Yet somehow the meat is melts in your mouth. This is the kind of succulent duck that Poppy was afraid of.
The dumplings are also ridiculous. A small selection of good draft beers and a massive collection of bottled beer.
The only downside is that it made me think of Joe Shanghai’s for the first time in three months and then I got homesick for NYC. But if you’ve never been to Joe Shanghai’s, your life sucks a little more than mine, and you’ll enjoy Mosquito slightly more than me.
Moritz Brewery
Barrio: Sant Antoni
Address: Ronda de Sant Antoni
Price Range: Fairly cheap
This place is silly. The staff wears terribly weird outfits that appear to be taken from a gamesmaker in Panem (topical reference!!!). The entire establishment would fit right in at Desert Ridge (Scottsdale reference!!!) as it’s massive even by Arizona standards and by BCN standards it borders on the size of VY Canis Majoris (red hypergiant reference!!!).
Barrio: El Gotico
Address: Baixada Viladecols, 3
Price Range: Reasonable
This is my fancy place. It's a traditional Catalan restaurant built inside walls from the Roman Empire. Their salmon-and-guacamole salad caused me to reconsider my entire existence on Earth. Their coques (Catalan square pizza thing) are also delicious and they have an apple tartin dessert that completes the whole meal.
On top of all that the the husband-and-wife that own and run the place are incredibly nice and even though I've been there just a few times, they always remember my name. All stupid jokes and exaggerations aside, this is the best place I've eaten at in Barcelona.
Barrio: El Gotico
Address: Baixada Viladecols, 3
Price Range: Super cheap
This place serves up massive tasty sandwiches for 3 euros and change. It also serves up the paradox that is how even though sometimes the language barrier frustrates me, I still hate hearing English. Then I get upset at myself for getting upset with study-abroad kids who frequent this place. Then I lose my mind a bit more. Then I bite into their sandwich and all is well again.
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