Barrafina

Barrafina Adelaide Street makes a virtue of the queue. There are no bookings, so the evening begins with waiting, aperitifs and the mild social theatre of watching a counter slowly come free. Once seated, the format is direct and intimate: food arrives as it comes, the chefs work in full view and the room keeps moving at a pace that feels more like a Spanish bar than a conventional restaurant. The chefs and managers are witty, charming and charismatic enough to make the lack of a table feel like part of the experience.

The menu is a huge pick-and-mix of tapas, and the best approach is to let the meal gather momentum. A stuffed courgette flower with goat’s cheese was amazing; rabbit shoulder, artichoke alioli, queen scallop ceviche, pork ribs, Iberico pig shoulder, suckling pig, lamb kidneys and portobello carpaccio all joined the table in quick succession. Not every plate needs equal attention. The pleasure is in the variety, the heat of the counter and the way one good idea makes the next order feel inevitable.

Flan, sorbet and rhubarb fool brought the meal to a sweet close, while the Spanish wine list kept the pace action-packed without becoming heavy. Barrafina is not a place for a slow, highly private dinner; it is a place to join the rhythm, order generously and trust the kitchen. The counter creates an unusual intimacy between guest and team, and the energy is a large part of the value. At 40, this is Spanish tapas dining with enough skill, personality and momentum to make the queue feel like a fair exchange.