A Field Guide to San Sebastián's Pintxo Bars
Because navigating this town isn't as easy as it used to be
San Sebastián does things to people. They call it a pilgrimage. They get misty-eyed when they tell you about their time there snaffling pintxo after pintxo.
And they will almost certainly tell you the famous stat. You might already know it — that there are more Michelin stars per resident here than any other town in the world.
I am one of those people.
I’ve been coming to this small Basque city for six years. In that time I have eaten my fair share of tiny food on sticks. I have had a food epiphany (or was it a food coma?) whilst eating funky-flavoured dairy cow.
I adore San Sebastián. And I’ve been coming here long enough to be one of those irritating tourists who will tell you it used to be so much quieter.
It’s true. I’ve just spent three days in the town and whilst it was busy on my last visit (in 2022) this was another level. TikTokers throng the streets filming themselves eating cheesecake. Bars with queuing systems. And lots and lots of influencers in flowy dresses.
But I can’t tell you not to come. I can’t tell you it’s lost its soul. In many ways, San Sebastián is the same as it’s always been. The bars don’t change. The lifers serving you from behind the bar remain the same, as do many of the menus.
San Sebastián deserves your time and attention, even if navigating it isn’t as easy as it once was.
This is the third travel guide I’ve written. I write them slowly because I want to truly know a town before writing a guide. After six years, I feel I’m ready to tackle this one.
For each bar recommendation, I’ve included the pintxos worth ordering and the best wine on their by-the-glass list (at the time of writing).
The first two recommendations are free for everyone to read, the rest are for my wonderful cohort of paid subscribers.
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Tips for surviving (and thriving in) San Sebastián
First, visit out of season. This is not a town to visit in the busy summer months. Visit late January (after bars return from their post-Christmas break) through March, and October through early December.
Second, yes, there are plenty of amazing restaurants with wine lists that will make wine geeks like me cry. This guide is not for them because — deep breath — I have never eaten in a fancy San Sebastián restaurant.
I keep meaning to but the bars keep me too busy. It’s the way I like to eat and drink — a little here, a little there. One day I’ll save my money and go to Arzak or Rekondo but for now this guide is for pintxo bars only (with one casual-restaurant-with-great-wine-list recommendation thrown in).
If you’ve never heard of pintxos, they are the Basque version of tapas. Tiny bites of food, often skewered onto slices of baguette. Cold pintxos pile on the bartops around the town but the more interesting versions are usually the cooked-to-order dishes. You’ll find them scribbled on boards and you can order them from old-timers behind the bar.
San Sebastián is bar-hopping heaven. Eat one pintxo, drink a zurito (a small “hit” of beer) or a glass of wine and move on.
It will be busy. It will be chaotic. You may wonder if you’ll ever get your food. But these bars are well-oiled machines. Most of the staff will have been there for years. They know what they are doing and you will get served and they will not fuck up your order.
A pintxo crawl around San Sebastián
Ganbara calls
For: jamón croissants, crab tartlets and famous mushrooms.
You start at Ganbara. Not for any reason other than trying to beat the queues.
Whilst this used to be a pile-in-and-take-your-chances kind of bar, the sheer popularity of their surtido de setas — mixed mushroom plate with egg yolk — means this place now operates a strict queueing system.
It may feel like the antithesis of a pintxo bar, but queue you do, because the food at Ganbara is arguably the best in all the old-town bars.
Start with a mini jamón croissant. Flaky, layered, buttery and stuffed with the sort of jamón that melts at room temperature.
Follow that with a tarteleta de txangurro. A mini crab tart that tastes intensely of the sea.
Is the famous mushroom plate worth it? Yes. We’re talking wild mushrooms slowly cooked in lashings of butter and finished with an egg yolk.
To drink, Ganbara has a decent by-the-glass list. A glass of Suertes del Marques’ Vidonia hits all the right points but if your tastes run cheaper, Rafael Palacios’ Louro from the Galician region of Valdeorras works just as well.
Back home, I’ve got access to a beautiful mushroom stall at my local market so I recreate their famous dish with a small twist.
Slice ceps, chanterelles, and porcini, or whatever is in season. Slip an egg yolk into a bowl and cover with soy sauce. Leave to cure for 30 minutes whilst you fry the mushrooms with enough butter to scare your doctor. Arrange the mushrooms on a platter and carefully place the cured egg on top. Finish with flaky sea salt and chopped parsley.
The magic brocheta of Gandarias
For: Dairy cow and Sherry.
Around the corner is Gandarias, a large bar and restaurant. You’d be forgiven for assuming it’s a tourist trap. Tri-lingual menu boards. Plenty of tourists milling around looking lost.
But just because it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck doesn’t mean it is a duck. Gandarias has become famous for two good reasons.
The first is their brocheta de txuleta. Txuleta (or Txuleton) is the Basque country’s famous dairy cow. Flintstone-sized, t-bone steaks packed with funky flavour are cooked —often over coals —and served bleu. They are on almost every restaurant menu in these parts and can run into the hundreds of euros for a decent-sized one.
They are magical but they can be overfacing. Which is where Gandarias’ brocheta comes in.
The same steak is cut into chunks, skewered and flash-fried. It’s everything a Txuleton steak can be in one bite, filled with flavour and funk. Just without the cost or the food coma.
The second is a surprisingly excellent selection of Sherry by the glass. To wash down my brocheta, I opt for Bodegas Tradicion’s famous Fino — bone dry, salty and so concentrated it should be illegal.
My husband is on the Tio Pepe Fino en Rama. Both of us are very, very happy.
Old School Casa Urola
For: Mushroom tartlets
The same guy is behind the counter at Casa Urola every time I visit. He works the corner part of the bar and surveys his domain as he pours local Txakoli wine from up high, slinging cold pintxos and shouting hot orders to the kitchen.