For some – not including anyone of Polish origin – going into Krakoviak is a giant WTF!? No clue in here, whatsoever. I mean, I can tell that beer is beer and that pickles are pickles (oooohhh pickles I’ve been missing you, my pretties), but who knows why the Polish, judging by the cans in the icebox, drink more tall boys than the rest of Europe. There are more varieties of mustard in this place than there are regions in Poland, I promise you.
The refrigerators that Barcelona’s much more numerous Pakistanis fill with beer and other safe options to keep us comfortable and paying jacked-up prices are filled with mystery meats you’d be hard pressed to identify in Krakoviak, most of it in tubular form. Kabanos, smokey snack sausages (25 cents each), are plopped next to other cured things labeled only with their price. It gives the impression this is a Polish shop for, um, Poles. Poc a poc, amic meu. Start your exploration with a smoked mackerel, a jar of the ogórki konserwowe and some horseradish sauce to spread on absolutely everything.
Where: C/ Sicilia, 326
When: Monday – Saturday: 10-22h // Sunday: 12-21h
Web: krakoviak.es
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