Our current top-three restaurants in Jerez
Choosing our favourite restaurant in Jerez. Hmmm. It’s like nominating a favourite child, when you know full well that one day he, she or they will crash your car or tell you they want to be an influencer.
It’s an absurd proposition because there are so many factors at play. A reader recently asked me this very question, i.e. which bars ‘can’t be missed’ when he visits Jerez, but it rather depends on whether you’re looking for gourmet food (in which case you should be looking at one of Jerez’s excellent top-end joints), or value for money, ambience, inside/outside seating, a menu in English, a fancy wine bar? Space for a group? Bar A might be on a noisy street but have the best chicharrones in town, while bar B has average tapas but sits in a pretty plaza. Do you like fish? Battered-and-deep-fried, or plain? Are you OK with eating a whole anchovy? Looking for a salad or the best eggplant? What’s your take on blood sausage? Snails?
But in the interests of fair play and not appearing to be a complete condescending penis, last night, in consultation with Jess, I settled on three bars that give us a particular kind of buzz whenever we visit. In fact, we happened to be sitting at one of them …
Raíces
I’m contradicting my own pattern of eat-think-repeat, but this place has made our list despite the fact that we’ve been here only four times; usually I wouldn’t dream of recommending somewhere without a significant pile of evidence. But this place has overtaken many of our other favourites because it’s blown us away each time and, for a place that has a very restaurant-y feel, is remarkably inexpensive.
It is not your typical Jerez bar. Inside looks rather fancy, and the outside tables (warmer months only) are on a footpath that is literally on the way to the train station, depending on where you start from. But the huge menu of mainly media-ración sized dishes covers all the bases, protein wise, plus the rice dishes are incredible. Unless you’re a really big eater you’ll surely find that ordering two dishes to share is enough for two people.
The photo above is of an off-the-card speciality, recommended to us by the waiter. It’s a brocheta (skewer) of prawns and monkfish, and some chunks of red and green pepper, and it was by far the best thing of its type we’ve ever had. Flame-kissed, each bite was perfection personified. It was served on a seemingly incongruous bed of the region’s superb potatoes, perfectly cooked, in a sweet jus – not something you’d expect underneath a seafood dish, but somehow a superb accompaniment. At €18 it was clearly a special treat – lots of the other media-raciones are considerably cheaper here.
On other visits we’ve had a piece of fish in a leek sauce, a rice dish with socarat (the crispy yummy bits of rice from the bottom of the pan) with pork cheeks on top, pork ribs, garlic prawns … and buggered if I can remember what else right now but sheesh, these guys can cook.
Ajé
Ajé sits alongside a stretch of locals’ bars next door to the house where Jerez’s favourite daughter Lola Flores grew up. Lola acted, danced and sang her way to fame throughout the mid 20th century and is immortalised in a statue in the centre of the street here.
That’s Lola centre screen, standing on a box. On the balcony of her house, behind, a flamenco trio popped up for an impromptu performance. Jess’s glass of amontillado is in the foreground.
Ajé is tiny. There’s room inside for maybe a dozen people, and outside there are a couple of two-seater tables and a four-seater high table, such is the space allowed by the narrow footpath here. Oddly for a restaurant, they don’t have much of a kitchen. The chef does much of his ‘cooking’ using a blow torch, adding a gentle cinder to white prawns or thinly sliced sea bass or other morsels that can otherwise be eaten sashimi style.
The dishes aren’t as simple as I’m making out. For every simply presented protein is an oomph of flavours to back it up, from a gentle kimchi accompanying the fish, to a pork-based oil in which to dip your Huelva prawns and a tuna sauce for your sliced mortadella.
There’s nothing like this place, flavour wise. The chef has a gift for creative combinations and isn’t afraid to set a blow torch to the rule book.
Matria
My guess is we’ve visited this place five times more often than any other restaurant in Jerez. It’s not the most elegant place to look at but the team here has created something truly special. A menu of staples like chicharrones, spiced carrot salad (a Jerez institution) and ajoblanco (white gazpacho) is supported by an ever-changing afuera la carta list of e.g. steak cooked with mushrooms and all manner of slow-cooked, fast-cooked and no-cooked delights. There’s a lentil dish served in a cup and topped with a potato mash that’s reminiscent of a shepherd’s pie. If you fancy something simple like a tapa of fried squid, this is the best in town.
You won’t believe that the prices here aren’t a misprint on the menu. For the cost of a meal at the humblest of old-man bars you get award-winning platos (literally – they were awarded a Repsol Solete in 2025). I suspect that these guys will skyrocket to fame soon and won’t want to hang out with us any more, so get in quick.
You can book online through Google Maps. Unless the weather is bad, choose the terrace.
Chicharrones presented in both Cádiz style (sliced) and Jerez style (chunky)
I still feel weird nominating standouts like this, in a city where, depending on your taste, there are about 100 other bars that could be here too. Check out my interactive map of the places we think you’ll like on this page.
