Boadas - Barcelona
- mcnamarashane
- Aug 26
- 4 min read
Updated: Oct 3
Founded in 1933, Boadas is a modest space with wood-paneled walls, faded photos, and a bar that’s been polished by decades of elbows and conversations. It’s small and intimate, barely enough room to turn around without brushing shoulders, but that’s part of its charm. Tucked just off Las Ramblas, this is the kind of place that survives the chaos of the outside world by sheer force of character, standing firm in its identity. You step into Boadas, and you’re not just in a bar, you’re in a piece of Barcelona’s history.

There’s no attempt at modernizing here, no attempt at catering to trends. Boadas doesn’t care about that. It knows what it is, and it doesn’t need to shout. The bar itself is simple, unadorned, and run by bartenders who wear tuxedos with the kind of unassuming dignity that makes you wonder why every bar doesn’t do it this way. They work with an ease that only comes from decades of practice, from a deep understanding that they’re not here to impress you with flair. They’re here to serve you a damn good drink. Boadas is a place that respects its customers and its craft, and it shows.
The bartenders at Boadas are magicians with shakers. While most places stir their martinis with almost religious devotion, Boadas has its own way. They throw their martinis, yes, throw them, and they do it with a flourish, a rhythmic, almost hypnotic motion that turns the drink into something unique, something you won’t find anywhere else. You could call it sacrilege in some circles, but here, it’s tradition. It’s how the founders did it, how they believed a martini should be made, with just the right amount of aeration and dilution to make the drink come alive.
The gin at Boadas is chosen with care, usually something classic like Tanqueray or Beefeater. Nothing overly fancy, nothing trying too hard. This isn’t a place for obscure brands or flashy labels; this is a place that values consistency, quality, and tradition. The gin is poured with a practiced hand, and the vermouth, usually Martini & Rossi dry, is added with a restrained elegance, just enough to give the drink depth without overwhelming it. Boadas understands that a good martini isn’t a gin martini or a vermouth martini. It’s a delicate balance, an interplay between flavors that requires respect.
The magic of Boadas’ martini lies in the throw. It’s not an aggressive shake, not a frenzy, but rather a gentle, rhythmic motion that the bartenders have perfected over the years. Throwing it this way introduces tiny air bubbles, giving the martini a lighter texture, a softness that contrasts beautifully with the cold, sharp taste of the gin. It’s a drink that feels full-bodied, as if each sip has a bit of air, a bit of space, allowing the flavors to breathe.
The end result is a martini that’s uniquely Boadas: cold, bracing, yet somehow with a smoothness that only the shake can bring. There’s a hint of cloudiness from the air that’s been incorporated, a faint opacity that adds to the drink’s mystery, its character. It’s not the crystal-clear martini you’d find in a more modern cocktail bar; it’s something rougher, something that feels like it’s been crafted for people who appreciate a little edge, a little imperfection. And that’s the beauty of it. A Boadas martini isn’t trying to be a pristine, flawless drink. It’s trying to be itself, unapologetically, confidently.
Garnished with a twist of lemon, peeled fresh with each order, the martini at Boadas has a brightness that cuts through the cold bite of the gin. The lemon isn’t there just for show; it’s an integral part of the drink, a fresh note that ties the whole experience together. The bartenders at Boadas know how to make a martini that’s both sharp and approachable, a drink that keeps you coming back for that perfect balance of chill and citrus, of bitter and smooth. If you prefer an olive, they’ll oblige, but they’ll give it to you with a knowing smile. At Boadas, they know the lemon twist is part of the ritual, part of what makes the martini here unforgettable.

The crowd here is eclectic, a mix of locals, longtime regulars, and the occasional traveler who’s lucky enough to have stumbled upon a gem. There’s no pretension, no need for Instagram-worthy moments; people are here to drink, to talk, to feel the weight of a bar that has seen it all. The energy is relaxed, timeless. You’re as likely to find an old man nursing his usual as you are a young couple, perhaps there for the first time, enchanted by the magic of Boadas.
As you drink, you look around and realize that Boadas doesn’t try to be anything other than what it is. It’s a bar that knows its history, that values its roots, and that stays true to its vision. It’s a place that serves its martinis with an air of confidence and calm, as if to say, “This is how it’s done.” You finish your drink, savoring that last sip, that final taste of gin and citrus and history, and you realize that this is what a bar should be. Not a place that’s polished and perfect but a place that’s real, a place that’s seen the world change and still stands firm, a beacon of tradition in a world that never stops moving.
Walking out of Boadas, the taste of that martini lingers, not just on your palate but in your memory. It’s a drink that feels like a conversation, a quiet exchange between you and the bar, a drink that leaves you feeling like you’ve experienced something real, something lasting. Because that’s what a Boadas martini is: more than a drink, more than a recipe. It’s a piece of Barcelona, a reminder that sometimes, the best things don’t change.
Website: Boadas


