Amagat

If you want to know where all the chefs and in-the-know Parisians are eating, it’s down an unmarked, uneven cobblestoned alley in the 20th arrondissement at Amagat, which means “hidden” in Catalan. (Just walk alongside the graffiti-covered brick walls, swivel left at the end of the passage, and follow the rumba music.)

Order your tapas by picking what you want from the printed-out menu and handing it to your server. They may all come in succession, one after another, leaving little room on the marble countertop for your napkin. But there’s no pressure to eat fast and finish up tout de suite. Pour a glass from your pitcher of strawberry-rhubarb-cherry sangria and stay a while—the sommelier (who otherwise serves only Catalan wines) will take care of you. 

All the dishes are great, but the signature tennis ball-sized bomba Barceloneta is a standout. It’s a fun scene, and you’ll probably want to continue eating and drinking just to avoid leaving.