Spanish Summer: Eating My Way Through Barcelona y Las Islas Baleares

After spending my final semester of university working and studying in Paris, France — and subsequently traveling all throughout the European continent — I was adamant about going back. I didn’t want that time to be a blip that I looked back on for the rest of my life, and so I’ve spent every year since trying to figure out how and when I’d be able to return. Of course, the periods of COVID lockdowns and the resulting spans of unemployment made that post-grad dream feel further and further away — about five years further away, to be exact.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t let the time that passed get me down, especially when I saw so many other people Euro-summering their way through the Mediterranean. All that time at home did account for something, however. Apart from building a career for myself as a freelance writer and editor, I was actively daydreaming up a list of destinations to visit when, come the summer of 2025, my opportunity to visit Europe did finally strike. Given the appreciation for house music I had also blossomed in that time, there was really only one place I could start: Ibiza, Spain. 

With the party capital of the world as my focal point, my Euro-summer turned into what I’ve now coined as my Spanish summer: two weeks split between Ibiza and Mallorca, with stops in Barcelona and Lisbon, Portugal on the way back home. While I’m sure that, like most places in the world, much of the Europe I remembered from prior to 2020 is very different from today, one thing I can say for certain is that Spanish food is just as good as it’s always been, and will likely forever be — and I say that as a meat-eater turned vegetarian. 

Vivi’s Creamery 

My first full day in Ibiza was, quite possibly, the best day anywhere ever. I slept in just long enough to make the hotel breakfast, then I napped by the hotel pool before making my way into Ibiza Town for some shopping. But no best day anywhere ever would be credible without a gelato stop — and Vivi’s Creamery, located just down the path up to Dalt Vila, offered just that. 

Vivi’s sunny patio was full of people who seemed to be enjoying their day — and their gelato — equally as much as I was. A friendly interaction with a local walking their dog outside only affirmed my gut feeling that, not only could this be the best day anywhere ever, but I may just be about to have the best gelato ever. All I can say is that my pistachio cone did not disappoint. 

Vivi’s scoops up dozens of flavors every day and, fortunately for me, about half of those flavors are totally dairy free. I, of course, stuck with my personal favorite flavor: pistachio. But, my other options — including both peanut butter and chocolate sea salt, among others — were equally as tempting, and I couldn’t help but be a little bit jealous of my sister’s choice of passion fruit yogurt.

Amante

I’d love to tell you that I just stumbled upon Amante Ibiza, but that’s far from the case. Getting to this restaurant and beach club required exactly the opposite: A long, wondrous, and much too speedy taxi drive up, through, and down a mountain range to an area known as Cala Sol d’en Serra. Here, rugged cliffsides meet the Mediterranean sea — providing a panoramic view across it to the island of Fromentera. I seriously can’t tell you how relieved I was to get out of that car, not only because I had made it there alive, but because I was met with such a view. That, the fresh ocean air, the Dramamine I took along the way, and the beautiful meal I had ahead of me, all made the drive to Amante more than worth it. 

We arrived at Amante with a reservation set for 6 pm. This was the latest time in the day I could manage to secure, as the restaurant is a popular place for sunset seekers — and the perfect setting for a special occasion or romantic date night (should anyone of interest be reading this). The restaurant has multiple levels, each bringing you further down the cliff that the restaurant sits on, closer and closer to the shore. Our table was on the lowest, and we went straight in by ordering ourselves some pan alioli and a bowl of the green gazpacho pictured above. I followed that with the ras el hanout roasted cauliflower. While we skipped dessert, I did decidedly stick around after dinner to enjoy the views with a glass of rosé.

Aiyanna

If the day I had Vivi’s Creamery was the best day anywhere ever, the day I spent the afternoon eating at Aiyanna Ibiza has to be a close second. Amante’s more casual and colorful sister restaurant, Aiyanna, is located on the long, sandy, and relaxed cove surrounded by pristine water known as Cala Nova. Just a couple of miles — and a significantly less nausea-inducing taxi ride — north of Punta Arabí, it was a natural place to have lunch after shopping around the famous hippy market, and before taking a long nap in the sand. 

I must admit, our lunch at Aiyanna was a very long one — we sat down around 3 pm. and didn’t get up until about 5 pm. I am in no way suggesting the service was bad, but this was something my American mind had to learn to adjust to. There’s no rushing a meal in Spain — and especially not in Ibiza. If the water didn’t look so beautiful, and I wasn’t so anxious to go for a swim, I wouldn’t have minded what so ever. Fortunately, the time was filled with fresh food and even better sangria. 

Apart from the scenery, what drew me to Aiyanna was the chance to enjoy a vegetarian version of a well-known Spanish dish: its quinoa and chickpea croquettes, also known as “croquetas.” Crispy on the outside, and soft and savory on the inside, the quinoa and chickpea croquettes were the perfect appetizer leading up to my second serving of roasted cauliflower. Only, this one was different from the one I had at Amante — served with a super umami miso glaze and with crunchy cashews on the top.

Ca’s Patró March

Long before my trip to Mallorca, I had saved photos of Ca’s Patró March and the rocky cove it sits on. Located in the idyllic town of Deià, I got the impression that Ca’s Patro March was one of those celebrity-frequented, impossible to get a reservation at type of restaurants. So when I secured a table there for the night we landed on the island, I was feeling pretty confident in myself. Fast forward to the moment I got into the rental car and realized I would have to, quite literally, inch down a narrow, winding, and steep mountain road to get there — all of that confidence quickly faded away, and all only to find that there was absolutely nowhere to park.

After inching the car back up the road I had just inched it down, I decided to simply leave the car at the top of the cliff and make the way back to the restaurant on foot. This didn’t take more than 15 minutes, and I found some comfort when I saw that my sister and I weren’t the only people doing so. Once we laid our eyes on the view that is Cala Deià, the short trek and the stress were an old self’s problems. Surrounded by crystal clear waters, with several boats docked in the distance (the very ones I’m sure all those celebrities took to get to the restaurant), we couldn’t help but go for a swim in the rocky cove before we sat down to eat. 

Ca’s Patro March’s menu is full of simple dishes, all executed to perfection — or, at least, that’s how it looked based on everyone around me’s plates. Being vegetarian, the only thing I could actually eat was the salad and french fries, but that isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy them. My salad was delicious — featuring a combination of fresh and sun-dried tomatoes, pickled onions, herbs, and walnuts. However, if you asked me if I’d put myself through the stress of getting there again, I’d say not for the food. For the crystal clear water, a nice swim, a pre-packed sandwich, and an Aperol Spritz at the bar on the other side of the cove? Absolutely any day.

L’Ambigú

After a boat day out of Palma, my sister and I had our sights set on dinner at L’Ambigú. Walking distance from the famous Catedral-Basílica de Santa María, we were able to park and walk through some of the city’s old streets — stopping for an espresso and stepping into a couple of stores along the way. The walk led us to the Església de Santa Eulàlia, where we turned a corner to find L’Ambigú’s quaint outdoor terrace. Looking at it, I could tell it’d be just the grounded meal and scenery we needed after a day at sea. Our day at sea outfits, on the other hand, were not conducive to that scenery. The waitress respectfully let us know that we’d need to change before she could seat us. Fortunately, we weren’t short on nearby places to find a fresh outfit. 

Funnily enough, once we returned in our new clothes, we were immediately seated outside on the patio. We were almost sat inside of the restaurant before, which I now understand was in an effort to hide us due to what we were wearing. While you don’t by any means have to dress up for a meal at L’Ambigú, the damp shorts and bandeau top I had on wasn’t going to cut it. I completely understood. Besides, I had an excuse to buy a  new dress — and we got to sit at a table on the terrace, which is all I really wanted in the first place. By the time my ice cold Aperol spritz and the pan alioli were on the table, it was all a thing of the past. Then, after I finished my deliciously simple and comforting mushroom rigatoni, I’d honestly forgotten it had happened at all.

Restaurant Es Molí

Our third day in Mallorca took us to Santanyi — a picturesque town known for its terra cotta stone architecture and bustling weekly market. Driving through, I was blown away by the golden-hued buildings, all with doors and windowsills in different shades of green. The market happened to be that morning, so we took a stroll through and picked up a few things before getting back in the car and driving to S’Amador — a beautiful, sandy cove located within the Cala Mondrago nature preserve made complete by the presence of a beach bar, where I enjoyed a bag of Las Caseras and an Aperol spritz. Nevertheless, after a swim and a short nap, we both left hungry. So, we made our way back to the town for a meal at Restaurant Es Molí. 

Restaurant Es Molí is located inside of a 300-year old mill just inside of the Santyani ring road. The street is lined by the exact terra cotta stone buildings and green shutters that the Mallorcan village romanced me with. But, while the old mill certainly blends in with its charming surroundings, walking into Restaurant Es Molí felt like stepping into a new setting of the storybook of a town. The entrance is surrounded by tropical plants and tall palm trees, all shading over the front patio and leading you inside of the old mill. There, candlelit tables light the stone walls and arched ceilings that guide you through the dining room and out to the back terrace. With string lanterns and wild growing ivy above, we sat at a table there and started with our go-to: pan alioli and a glass of wine. 

After a very Spanish appetizer of bread, olives, freshly whipped garlic mayo and a couple of glasses of vino, I was very happy to discover the food at Restaurant Es Molí tasted just as classic as the scenery felt. My mushroom ravioli was flavorful and savory — even without the parmesan. The salad was summery and bright with the addition of freshly ripe mangos and avocado, while the toasted cashews gave it a nice warmth and necessary crunch.

Nacarat

If you do anything when you visit Mallorca, and especially if you stay in or around Palma, you should go to Soller. You can ride the historic tram straight from the city, all the way through the countryside and up to the north west coast. Soller itself is located in a lush valley lined with fruit trees and olive groves, and the main square is home to a local market that branches out into endless narrow streets — one of which led me to Nacarat. Serving local cuisine out of a rustic, family owned restaurant flanked by a sunny patio, Nacarat was just the place to sit down and get some traditional paella before hopping on another train down to the town’s port. 

Paella may famously be served with seafood, but a lot of people don’t know that the original — paella Valenciana — didn’t contain any fish, crustaceans, or sea creatures at all. Originating in the country’s rice producing region,and made using whatever was available locally, the dish adapted into many different variations as it gained popularity and spread to different parts of the country. So, having said that, nobody can tell me that vegetarian paella — also known as “paella verdura” — isn’t authentic paella. If they did, I’d just tell them about the meal my sister and I shared on that sunny afternoon in Soller. 

As you can see by the photo, the seasonal vegetable paella I ordered for lunch at Nacarat came out just as flavorful and saffron-hued as any seafood topped paella I’ve known. Not to mention, it paired perfectly with a glass of cava following the refreshing bowl of watermelon gazpacho I had as an appetizer.

Temple Natura

After nearly a week of eating nothing but tapas, my American taste buds were beginning to deceive me — I needed a burger in me, stat. Fortunately, I knew just where I could get one: Temple Natura. The vegan restaurant is located  in the heart of Palma’s historic district, and it has thousands of online reviews. Based on what I had read, it was a must visit restaurant for anyone who, like me, doesn’t partake in meat. Even so, I was surprised to find a beautiful garden patio full of people eating there. Either there are a lot more vegans in Mallorca than I expected, or the food at Temple Ventura is just that good. I’m willing to bet on the latter. 

Apart from the Mediterranean oasis that is the restaurant’s garden, Temple Natura also serves as a space for music, gathering, and, even more fittingly, yoga. Apparently, it’s much more than just a restaurant — and, from what I gathered from the host who told me it was my “lucky day” when he sat us, making a reservation is recommended. By his account, I should’ve felt blessed for being seated, let alone served — and by my own account, I was. When I saw that gigantic veggie burger dripping in alioli land on the table in front of me, all I could think was “god bless Spain.” The potatoes and spicy alioli served on the side were a crispy bonus. 

AMMA Gelato

Dessert is one meal that I’m almost always willing to partake in, particularly if we’re talking gelato. I had come to Spain with a list of vegan and vegan-friendly gelato shops to have handy, knowing that the craving could strike me any time and anywhere. But, even despite having such an array of options, I kept coming back to AMMA Gelato during my short stay in Barcelona. Located in a lively square known as Placa de Virreina, and with nothing but a small bench in front of it, the neighborhood serves as an extension to the tiny yet mighty gelato shop,. I found many locals there also lining up for a scoop. 

AMMA Gelato is unique not only because all of its flavors are 100% plant-based, but because the majority of them are made from local ingredients, inspired by the fruits and produce of the season. AMMA’s most famous flavor, however, is the pistachio — made using only those sourced directly from Italy. Known for bold flavors conducive to the soil around Mount Etna in Sicily, I can confirm that the terroir of Italy’s pistachios deliver even in gelato form. I also couldn’t help but indulge  in the tahini and raspberry flavors pictured above, which I enjoyed on the steps of the old church overlooking the square. 

NOMAD Coffee

Traveling anywhere in Europe, including Spain, isn’t necessarily restful. That’s especially true in a city like Barcelona, where cobblestone roads climb hundreds of feet and any corner could take you up another endless set of stairs. Not to mention the time difference and the mid-August heat — there wasn’t a day there where I wasn’t tired, which meant I was leaning even more on my caffeine dependence than I normally do. I’m talking at least three cortados a day, maybe four. While perhaps an authentic siesta may have been more fitting for my days in the Spanish city, a visit to NOMAD Coffee made an afternoon nap feel almost obsolete. 

NOMAD Coffee has two locations. The one I went to was in the Gothic Quarter, located directly in Passatge de Sert — a picturesque pathway lined by overgrown plants, artisanal stores, and aesthetic yoga studios. Basically, the ideal location for catching its prime clientele and people like me: too stubborn for a nap and looking for a place to sit down. NOMAD Coffee provided just that, and it did it while serving a mean cup of coffee in a way that felt experiential. Not only do you get to pick from its menu of globally purveyed beans, but you also get to sit front and center while you watch the baristas prepare it and everyone else’s. 

NOMAD Coffee is set up like a theatre, and the baristas are the stars (no, really, some are even compete in national competitions). Each of them stands behind a bar, without any big espresso machine blocking their view. Instead, all of the machinery is hidden under the counter, giving guests full visibility of their meticulous work. My drink — the infamously misunderstood, Italian-style shakerato — was made similarly to a cocktail. I sat and watched intently while the barista shook the ingredients together in a cocktail shaker before pouring it — frothy and strong — into a rocks style glass. I savored every last sip, lucky enough to have snagged a seat at the counter.

MYKA Greek

You’d think I’d had enough gelato, but MYKA is different. It’s froyo — AKA frozen yogurt, and it makes it even more different by opting for the traditionally thicker, tangier, and creamier Greek variety. Founded in Madrid in 2023, MYKA has expanded to 100 locations across nine countries in just two years, so it’s no wonder my sister was the one who came across it on TikTok. While not the original location, the MYKA shop in Barcelona is situated in the trendy El Born neighborhood, where its Greek decor fits naturally amongst the Gothic architecture. It also, naturally, almost always has a line going out the door. We seemed to have gotten lucky. 

Apart from the obvious advantage of not having to wait in line on the hot street, our good timing meant we had the entire MYKA shop to ourselves. Without the crowd, I had the chance to take in everything — which, being a tiny frozen yogurt shop, mostly consisted of toppings. From the array of toasted nuts to the crispy kadayif, and from the variety of preserved berries and fruits to the creamy nutella spread and the green pistachio cream, each displayed and served out of beautifully painted bowls — MYKA takes a familiar and somewhat over-done frozen treat and makes it totally new, and totally Greek.

Needless to say, I was looking forward to ordering. I was given a choice of two toppings with my small serving of apricot frozen yogurt — which was totally dairy-free, might I add. Overwhelmed, I ultimately chose three: preserved cherries, crispy kadayif, and a bit of that irresistibly green pistachio cream. Each one perfectly highlighted the tart and creamy Greek froyo. Now, I’m just waiting for the day a location opens in the States.

Xiringuito Escribá 

Knowing that the number of days I had left in Spain was only getting progressively smaller, it was imperative that I get another serving of paella. It was also imperative that I lay my eyes on the ocean, and get my toes into that famous Barcelona Beach sand. Xiringuito Escribá offered both — plus a pitcher of sangria. That’s all I really needed to know to get back on my feet and make the walk over from El Born. When I arrived, I was happy to see that the tables were full of locals who were there for the exact same reason I was: the paella. The only thing standing in my way was a 45 minute wait. But, that’s what the pitcher of sangria was for. 

From what I understand, 45 minutes is a rather reasonable time to wait on a large plate of paella. It’s also pretty typical for the server to limit your portions based on the size of your table — each paella serving two, as ours explained to us. That meant my sister would be sharing the vegetable variety with me once again. But, after our first one in Mallorca, she didn’t seem to be too bummed about it. I’m not one to complain, either. Besides, I had my sangria and my view. Before I knew it the server was walking towards our table with what could only be our order: the mushroom and asparagus paella. 

When the server made it to our table, he set the large plate down between us and lifted the lid. The steam escaped from the piping hot rice, and suddenly I found myself exactly where I wanted to be: sufficiently tipsy, on the beach, and eating paella. There’s truly no place I would’ve rather been, or anything else I’d rather be eating, on my last evening in Spain. Except maybe dancing the night away at Pacha in Ibiza.

Bar La Principal 

Waking up on my last morning in Spain, directly after my paella on the beach, I had my heart set on getting a traditional Spanish breakfast. That meant I’d be treating myself to what I’d only recently discovered as one of my favorite breakfast foods: Spanish tortilla. The thick, fluffy omelettes come in different varieties, but the classic is simply layered potatoes. Fried in olive oil, you get something of a crustless quiche — only lighter and, somehow, creamier. But, I didn’t want just any tortilla. Being my last day, I had to do my time in Spain justice by sending myself off with the best tortilla Barcelona had to offer. It was just that search on TikTok that brought my sister and I to Bar La Principal. 

Bar La Principal is a dark, pub-like eatery sat on the outskirts of the Gothic Quarter — serving as somewhat of a salvation for locals looking to escape the touristy streets nearby. How do I know that? In Barcelona, I could measure how locally-oriented any place was by the exact degree of rudeness I received from the people working. As soon as I stepped into Bar La Principal, the woman behind the bar rolled her eyes. Then, the girl who took my order then grew increasingly impatient with me when I — a first time customer without a menu – asked what they served. But, all that meant to me was that I was in the right place. I knew what I had come for anyways, and that’s exactly what I got. 

An espresso, one tortilla de patatas, a couple of pieces of pan con tomate, and my own personal bowl of Spanish olives — that was my order. In Spain, breakfast is exactly the way I like it: simple, but nevertheless unforgettable. Perhaps no dish encapsulated the two weeks I spent there better, and I was sent off just the way I had set out to be.