115 Best Restaurants in Madrid, Spain

Textbook-perfect paella in...Latina? Madrid is a notoriously disappointing city when it comes to the rice dishes popular on the Mediterranean coast, but Aynaelda slam-dunks with its sizzling paellas flavored with heady aromatics and concentrated stock. Be sure to scrape up the socarrat, that swoon-worthy layer of crisp rice that sticks to the bottom of the pan. Avoid Sunday lunch as there's usually a waitlist.

A 19th-century bodega (wine vendor), with barrel tables and dusty gewgaws hanging from the walls, Bodega de la Ardosa is a welcome anachronism in modern Malasaña and a tourist magnet for good reason. The bar's claim to fame—and the dish Madrileños make special trips for—is its award-winning tortilla española, or Spanish omelet, always warm with a runny center. The fried ortiguillas (sea anemones) dunked in lemony aioli are the menu's sleeper hit.

If you can't make it to the windmill-dotted planes of Don Quixote's La Mancha, you can at least get a taste of that region's flavorful, rib-sticking cuisine at this beloved neighborhood bar within walking distance from the Matadero. Beyond the Manchegan classics—atascaburras (potato-bacalao mash), machacón (mashed fresh tomato-pepper salad), and asadillo (cumin-scented roasted red peppers)—there's a long ever-changing list of Spanish craft beers. 

Never has an open kitchen in Madrid been so mesmerizing: at Cadaqués, black-clad cooks tend to rows of paella pans sizzling over pluming orange wood embers and flip Flintstones-worthy steaks and whole fish licked by open flame. It feels like the type of rustic experience you'd encounter at the Mediterranean seaside, but Cadaqués sits squarely on Jorge Juan, Madrid's poshest street. Achieving that transportive vibe was no small feat: the chef spent months fishing and cooking with seafaring communities along the coast prior to writing the menu, which features all sorts of pristine shellfish and raw-bar dishes in addition to the standout rice and grilled meat and fish preparations.

Casa Dani is a legendary bar in Mercado de la Paz whose tortilla de patata (potato omelet) is easily the best in town, and perhaps the country (if first place in the National Spanish Omelet Championship of 2019 is any indication). Each hefty wedge is packed with caramelized onions and served hot and slightly runny. Adventurous eaters should opt for the con callos version, topped with spicy tripe. The €13 prix fixe, which hinges on market ingredients, is a great lunch deal if you're not in a rush (prepare for long lines to be seated).

Carabanchel's best-known bar, Los Minutejos, is synonymous with distressingly inhalable griddled sandwiches of crispy pig ear doused in fiery brava sauce. Tamer tapas are available for the squeamish. To drink? An ice-cold Mahou, of course.

This gourmet shop (est. 1931) doubles as a cozy bar where you can sample most of the stuff on the shelves, including canned asparagus, charcuterie, anchovies, and a varied well-priced selection of Spanish cheeses and wines. It also serves good inexpensive breakfasts.

Approximate a vacation to northern Spain by dining at this true-blue Asturian restaurant (or at the more casual sidrería in the bar area), where that region's unsung comfort-food dishes—such as fabada (pork-and-bean stew), Cabrales cheese, and cachopo (cheese-stuffed beef cutlets)—take center stage. The obligatory tipple is sidra, bone-dry Asturian cider that's aerated using a battery-powered gadget designed for this task.

Whether you pull up a stool at at the marble bar or sit down for a soup-to-nuts feast in the azulejo-lined dining room, you're in for some of Madrid's finest traditional tapas with a twist here. Madrileños come from far and wide to share heaped plates of ensaladilla rusa, a house specialty, as well as textbook-perfect croquetas and hefty steaks served with sherry gravy and house-cut fries. Vermouth (on tap) is the nonnegotiable aperitif, and there are always several Spanish wines to try by the glass.

Whether you approve of bullfighting or not, the culinary excellence of Casa Salvador—a checkered-tablecloth, taurine-themed restaurant that opened in 1941—isn't up for debate. Sit down to generous servings of featherlight fried hake, hearty oxtail stew, and other stodgy (in the best way) Spanish classics, all served by hale old-school waiters clad in white jackets.

Crackly fried pig ear, fat wedges of tortilla de patata (potato omelet), and garlicky rabbit al ajillo are a few of the many old-school standbys that have kept this cubbyhole bar in business since 1934.

One of the buzziest restaurants in Madrid, this modern seafood mecca—with sleek wooden tables and floor-to-ceiling windows—serves rare delicacies from the country's top fishing fleets. On the ever-changing menu, you might find quisquillas de Motril (sweet white shrimp with bright blue roe), precious little elvers, or Basque lobster stew—all accompanied by wines selected by Sergio Otero, of DiverXO fame.

This low-ceiling dining room filled with plush armchairs, starched white tablecloths, and colorful bouquets is a welcoming spot to feast on refined Asturian dishes like sea urchin gratin, morels stuffed with truffled foie gras, pheasant with braised green beans, and suckling lamb confit. Weather permitting, you can request a patio table to watch Madrid's one percent parade down Calle de Jorge Juan. For power lunches and special-occasion meals, El Paraguas delivers every time.

Expertly pulled espressos, natural wines, and unexpectedly outstanding food—think velvety scrambled eggs, flavorful quiches, and homemade cakes and pastries—have made this café on Plaza del Biombo an instant hit with locals and expats, many of whom treat the roomy communal table like a coworking space (just be considerate and order more than a coffee if you plan on staying awhile).

This cheery yellow-tiled café serving Middle Eastern-inflected sandwiches and pastries is packed from breakfast to lunch, when neighborhood-dwellers show up for falafel, shakshuka, and spinach pie. At 8:30 pm, Golda morphs into "Golfa," its boozier late-night alter ego serving tapas and natural wine. 

This tony gastro bar serves newfangled tapas that are well worth their higher-than-usual price tag. Spring for the tempura soft-shell crab bao with chive mayonnaise, garlicky artichoke flatbread, or any other tapa del día, but whatever you do, order the famous tortilla de patata, irresistible with its molten core and handfuls of caramelized onions. The dulce de leche "volcano," cooled off by a scoop of banana ice cream, may be Madrid's most craveable dessert. 

La Catapa's tapas are classic but never old hat, inventive but never pretentious. The burst-in-your-mouth croquetas (croquettes) and garlicky razor clams may lure the crowds, but the hidden gems are in the vegetable section: it's hard to decide between the artichoke menestra with crisped jamón (dry-cured ham), ultra-creamy salmorejo (gazpacho's richer, more garlicky sibling), and umami-packed seared mushrooms. Be sure to ask about daily specials.

In the heart of the tourist fray but blissfully under the radar, this teensy lunch-only restaurant with an old tin bar serves all the Asturian favorites, from fabada (bean stew) to cachopo (ham-and-cheese-stuffed cutlets) to creamy rice pudding. Asturian cider is the requisite beverage.

To get a literal taste of Lavapiés's vibrant West African community, step into this family-run Senegalese hole-in-the-wall that serves the neighborhood's best mafé (meat-and-peanut stew), samousas (spicy meat-filled turnovers), and thieboudienne (Senegal's national dish, made with fish and vegetables)—at exceptionally affordable prices.

This laid-back Andalusian barroom, one of three locations (the others are in Retiro and Chamberí), embodies the joyful spirit of that sunny region. Let the cheerful waitstaff guide you through the extensive menu, which includes fried seafood, unconventional croquetas (flecked with garlicky shrimp, for instance), and heftier shareables like creamy oxtail rice and seared Barbate tuna loin. The ensaladilla rusa (tuna-and-potato salad) is one of Madrid's best. In summer, outdoor seating is in high demand.

Madrileños pour in from far and wide for Esther's famous patatas bravas, fried potato wedges cloaked in vinegary paprika-laced chili sauce. A menu brimming with snails, fried lamb intestines, pork rinds, and Castilian blood sausage confirms that you're in el Madrid profundo. Breakfast is also served.

From the owners of Hola Coffee, Madrid's preeminent third-wave coffee shop, comes this über-trendy roomier outpost two blocks from Gran Vía. Beyond the single-origin espressos and other classics made from roasted-in-house beans, there are warming chai lattes, shrubs, and (seasonal) cold brew. Misión quietly makes some of the best pastries in town—try the house-made croissants or zippy lemon–poppy seed cake—in the abutting Misión Bakehouse. There are plenty of plant-based options on the breakfast and lunch menu as well.  Tables are for coffee-sipping and dining only, so if you brought your laptop, sit at the high-top communal table or on the wooden "bleachers." 

Duck into this cozy hole-in-the-wall and be treated like family—Ana, the owner, recites the nightly menu to each table and flits around with a smile until the last guest saunters out. Barrera's famous patatas revolconas (paprika-spiced mashed potatoes topped with crispy pork belly), are always on offer; they might be followed by roast suckling lamb, wine-braised meatballs, or seared dayboat fish depending on the night. Inquire about prices when ordering to avoid sticker shock.

Fire is the secret ingredient at Roostiq, where pizzas sizzle and puff in a wood-burning oven and meat, fish, and vegetables char until tender over white-hot embers. Even the cheesecake is of the Basque "burnt" variety, brown and caramel-y on the outside and gooey within. The open-hearth technology may be older than the hills, but the buffed concrete walls, zany ceramic plates, and sturdy wooden and marble tables are unmistakably cutting-edge.

Settle into an unhurried feast at Sacha, a cozy bistro with soul-satisfying food and hand-selected wines, and you might never want to leave—especially if you strike up a conversation with chef Sacha himself, who's quite the storyteller. The cuisine is regional Spanish—think butifarra sausages with sautéed mushrooms or razor clams with black garlic emulsion—with just enough imagination to make you wonder why the restaurant isn't better known.

Roast duck carved tableside, truffled pâté en croûte, flambéed Grand Marnier soufflé—Saddle does old-school opulence exceptionally well. Multi-course meals unfold in the anachronistically corporate-chic dining room (think LED backlighting and mid-century modern accents), and feature rare seasonal delicacies including de lágrima (tear-shaped) baby peas and buttery new potatoes flown in from the Canary Islands. Cheese, butter, and cocktail carts rove from table to table and encyclopedic wine stewards go above and beyond, regaling you with curious anecdotes about each individual bottle.

Plan on a siesta after dining at this phenomenal down-home restaurant that hasn't changed a lick since opening a half-century ago. Whether you're in the boisterous downstairs bar or cozy upstairs dining room with cloth napkins and popcorn walls, you'll be blown away by Sylkar's lovingly prepared specialties including creamy ham croquettes, braised squid in ink sauce, battered hake, and the best tortilla española in Madrid for those in the runnier-the-better camp. If the torrijas (custardy Spanish "French" toast) aren't sold out by the time you order dessert, don't miss them. The 9:30 am opening time makes Sylkar a fine spot for breakfast as well.

The old-fashioned azulejo (glazed tile) walls, painted red facade, and squat wooden barstools might fool you into thinking this newcomer is any old tavern, but behind the swinging door, cooks are busy plating novel takes on tapas that you didn't know needed improving. Take the crispy pig ear, doused in the usual spicy brava sauce—it gets an unorthodox hit of freshness from tarragon-packed mojo verde. Then there are the stuffed mussels called tigres, amped up with defiantly non-Spanish amounts of chiles, and a bounty of seasonal tapas that always impress.

This cozy tiled bar will teleport you to the coastal Andalusian city of the same name with briny olives, bone-dry Manzanilla sherries, and shatteringly crisp tortillitas de camarón (shrimp fritters).