Hiro, Malasaña
Malasaña is the kind of neighbourhood where restaurants show up quietly and then suddenly everyone’s been three times. Hiro is one of those. Small space, tucked away, the sort of place that takes a second to clock from the street.
Inside it’s dim and compact, acogedor in the way that actually means something rather than just being a word on a website. A few tables, a bar, low light. You could easily come in for a glass of wine and find yourself still there two hours later without having made any particular decision about it.
The menu takes a minute. There are Japanese touches, Spanish ingredients, things that sit somewhere between the two and don’t really need to justify themselves. We stopped trying to work out the logic and just ordered what sounded good.
Masa fermentada with beef tartare, dashi carbonara and oscietra caviar arrived first, salty and rich and gone almost immediately. The pan chino frito came shortly after, confit chicken inside with a creamy escabeche sauce, and had a completely different mood: soft, warm, the kind of thing you eat slowly and then think about ordering again. Pichón later in the meal, served in its own jus with what was essentially tsukune, crisp potato skin and mint, big flavour but it didn’t sit heavy. Same could be said for the mollejas with beurre blanc and salsa criolla, which managed to be bold without tipping into excess.
The wine list runs towards small producers and natural bottles. We had an Albillo Real from the Sierra de Gredos that held its own well against the richer dishes.
By the end of the night the room had filled up and had that low warm hum you get in smaller Madrid places once everyone’s settled in. Hiro doesn’t seem particularly interested in explaining itself, which honestly makes it more appealing, it feels like a kitchen cooking what it wants to cook and trusting you to keep up. Worth knowing about, especially if you’re after somewhere small, unhurried, and good for a long evening with no fixed plan.
