The barman at La Bodega d’en Rafel always has a bottle of vermut and a glass at the ready. This spot also offers good cava, local wine, a well poured beer and traditional tapas, but we keep coming back because the people who work here make you feel that you belong – that there will be always a place for you at the bar.

In 1977, just two years after the death of Franco, the great Catalan gourmet Manuel Vázquez Montalbán published a book titled L’art de manjar en Catalunya (The Art of Eating in Catalonia). The book, as well as the prologue written by Montalbán’s mentor Néstor Luján, rang the alarm bells, claiming that authentic Catalan cuisine was in grave danger and on the brink of disappearance. As Montalbán saw it, the unique Catalan culinary identity has been reduced to a few ubiquitous dishes: pan a la Catalan (bread with tomato pulp and ham) and rabbit with aioli. This demise was due, in his opinion, to the frenzied pace of modern life, the lack of high-quality ingredients, the ignorance of both restaurateurs and tourists regarding what good cuisine, not to mention true Catalan cooking, looks and tastes like and, of course, the Franco regime’s efforts at suppressing regional identities.

The entryway of Espai Mescladís is jam-packed with people: neighbors, workers and visitors who come and go all day long, and waiters walking from the kitchen to the tables on the terrace. But there are also dozens of people staring out from black and white photos that cover the restaurant’s walls; some are alone, others in couples, families or groups, smiling and laughing. All the people pictured at one point emigrated to Barcelona, and whether they’re still living in the city or have moved elsewhere, their stories are always present at Espai Mescladís. The photos, taken by the photographer Joan Tomás, were originally part of an exhibition organized by the Mescladís Foundation, a multifaceted initiative that provides tangible and sustainable economic programs, particularly in the form of job training, for migrants and refugees in the city.

“We may find in the long run that tinned food is a deadlier weapon than the machine-gun,” wrote George Orwell. He knew quite a lot about poor diets, as he came to Catalonia in 1936 to fight against fascism during the Spanish Civil War. He joined the leftist political party and then a militia that fought on the Aragón front for six months, so it’s quite likely that he had tinned food at some point – but only on rare luckier days. In his war diary, Homage to Catalonia (1938), he wrote about craving food at the front as well as many other remarkable experiences that he endured in that period.

On January 6, bakeries throughout Barcelona are filled to the brim with tortell de reis (roscón de reyes in Spanish), or kings’ cake. Whoever finds the king figurine hidden inside the cake is declared king for the day and wears the gold paper crown that comes with the sweet treat.

This was an intense year for Barcelona, with a complex political situation stemming from Catalonia’s bid for independence from Spain. It was a storm that the culinary scene could not help but get caught up in. Bars and restaurants have always been a temple of leisure and pleasure, but we sometimes forget that they also serve as a space for people to connect and debate. And in the spirit of debate, food and drink constitute another form of expression, an indication of a restaurant’s cultural leanings. In Barcelona this year, we could taste the continued interest in developing and strengthening Catalan cuisine, often considered an extension of Catalan identity. But we also observed the food scene’s openness to other regional cultures and global influences.

Caga Tió, Tió de Nadal No cagues arengadas Que són saladas Caga torróns Que són més bons It’s not a carol, but it is likely the most popular song in Catalonia around Christmastime. Please pardon the profanity necessary in rendering a faithful translation: “Shit, Log, Christmas Log/Don’t shit herrings/Which are salty/Shit nougats/Which are better.” You might also hear Caga Tió/Avellanas i mató/Si no cagas be,/Et dare un cop de bastó. “Shit, Log/Hazelnuts and mató [curd cheese]/If you don’t shit well/I’ll hit you with a stick.”

A vendor weighs Marcona almonds that will be used to make turrón, a delicate type of soft nougat with ancient culinary roots. It is one of Spain’s most popular Christmas treats.

Bodega Bartolí opened in 1939 as a little bulk wine shop in Barcelona’s Sants neighborhood. Then everything changed for the bodega some 20 years later when a local client arrived with a stomachache. He asked a young Marina Dolz, who was minding the wine shop with her husband, if she could prepare some soup for him. It was the first dish she cooked there and, since then, Bodega Bartolí has moved far beyond simply being a wine store. At the time Bodega Bartolí opened, Sants was still an industrial quarter with several factories and thousands of workers. During the 1940s, the bodega sold both bulk wine to the neighbors and factory employees and barreja (a very traditional drink made of Muscat wine and anise liquor) to the wheelwrights passed by everyday.

It’s not too often that you find a restaurant in Barcelona where rock & roll, blues and jazz are some of the main ingredients. But that’s just the case at Bar Ramón, an iconic restaurant and tapas bar in Sant Antoni. Mediterranean grilled red prawns, patatas bravas, and xipirones (baby squids) a la Andaluza (coated in batter and fried) are carried from the kitchen to the table under the watchful eyes of Charlie Parker and Muddy Waters, who look down from posters on the wall. Also on the wall, sharing space with the standard FC Barcelona crest and a photo of a castell (Catalan human tower) in front of the old Sant Antoni Market, is Bo Diddley’s guitar.

In the little town of Santa Coloma de Farners, within the Catalan province of Girona, locals have been making the herb-infused liqueur known as ratafia for centuries, with each family passing down their own version of this unique libation from one generation to the next. In 1997, within the county’s official records, came a major food discovery – written recipes for three distinct styles of ratafia dating back to 1842, which are now recognized as the oldest of their kind in Catalonia. These handwritten lists of ingredients (along with other culinary notations, savory recipes and home remedies) were discovered in the old notebooks of Francesc Rosquellas, once the proprietor of a café/restaurant in Santa Coloma de Farners whose name had long since been forgotten.

These mushrooms were a sight for sore eyes on our culinary walk – they arrived a bit late to Catalonia this year because of the rains, but on the plus side, it looks like the warm weather has stretched out the season. We’re not complaining!

Bodega Neus, a tranquil, cozy spot on a narrow street in Gràcia, may look like a regular old bodega-restaurant. But this place, which is celebrating its centennial in 2017, merges two culinary traditions with deep roots in Barcelona: wine and seafood. In the beginning, Bodega Neus was a bulk wine-shop. Over the decades, it morphed into a bar and then a restaurant; during the course of it’s 100-year history, it was owned only by two families, both of which respected the spirit of the bodega and the traditional recipes that anchored the menu.

Saffron may be most commonly associated with Iran, currently the world’s largest producer of this costliest of spices, but it has a long and storied history across the Mediterranean, particularly in Spain. Once an important saffron producer and trading center, Catalonia has seen a resurgence in saffron cultivation in recent years. The spice, which comes from the Crocus sativus, a fall-flowering crocus, has a long history; ancient civilizations, including the Persians, Egyptians, Greeks, Romans and more, put saffron in all sorts of foods and drinks, and also used it for medicinal purposes and as a dye. The common belief is that saffron was introduced to the Iberian Peninsula by the Moors in the 9th or 10th century.

I used to joke that the only thing binding together Spain is the classic tortilla española, which in Catalonia we refer to as the tortilla de patatas – a neutral name. This potato omelet is one of the very few traditional dishes that is prepared the same way (and equally beloved) throughout Spain’s Autonomous Communities, the regions created after the Spanish Constitution of 1978, a necessary step towards creating a democratic country after the end of Franco’s dictatorship. The fact that this is one of the few dishes we all have in common highlights the significant regional differences of our traditional cuisine, despite our common Mediterranean culinary culture.