Grá Irish Gastropub by foodjuicepassion

Grá is an Irish pub in the old centre of Santanyí where not a single dish comes from an animal. It sounds like a contradiction, and that is exactly where the appeal lies: Guinness on tap, dark wood, the tone of a village local — and behind it a kitchen that works entirely from plants. Grá is the Irish word for love. Andrea and Donal, the two hosts, do not mean anything sentimental by it but a position: they keep the house meat-free because they do not want to harm animals. It is still not meant to become a stock Irish pub. What they brought over from Ireland is the feeling of walking in, not the collection of props on the wall. The suffix by foodjuicepassion misleads a lot of people. There is no second company behind it and no collaboration — it is the pair's own house name. Under foodjuicepassion they ran a plant-based food delivery business before the pub, and the website, the contact address and the social media presence still run under that name today. Grá is the pub that grew out of that business. The kitchen at Grá: the pub canon without animals Andrea cooks, and her approach runs along two lines. One takes the Irish and British canon at its word and rebuilds it without animal ingredients — Sunday roast, fish and chips, cottage pie. The other reaches far beyond it: Thai noodle salad with mango, peanuts and edamame, quesadillas with chipotle beans and pineapple pico de gallo, tacos, a falafel bowl with harissa jam and za'atar flatbread, shakshuka. The smaller plates are where it gets genuinely idiosyncratic: buffalo-style cauliflower, avocado wedges in a panko crust, corn ribs cut lengthways from the cob with hoisin and togarashi, bao buns with crisp oyster mushroom and gochujang, and a watermelon cut like raw tuna and dressed with ponzu. The Grá burger carries coconut bacon, onion jam and rosemary potatoes. A large part of the card is gluten free as it stands, the rest is marked and can be switched over with only a couple of exceptions. Over all of it sits a line printed on the menu itself: everything is meant to be shared. The market decides what gets cooked Andrea goes to the Santanyí market every week and builds her dishes around whatever is there. She cooks intuitively and changes the card when the ingredients change — this is not a list carved in stone. Alongside the pub service there is a market brunch in the planted courtyard behind the house. As much as possible comes from the island and from organic growers; the two say openly that part of the point is to carry the small producers around them along with it. Who this works for Donal stands behind the bar and pulls the pints. Guinness is vegan, so the beer does not break with the concept — he himself does not eat vegan, and for exactly that reason he insists this kitchen gives away nothing on flavour. That is the best argument for the place: it is not out to convert anyone, it is out to taste good. Guests who otherwise never eat plant-based sit here next to people who spent a long time looking for an address in the south-east of the island that makes no compromises. The room matches. Dark wood, candles, sofas, plants hanging from the ceiling, and a small courtyard at the back with umbrellas and up-cycled furniture. The place is small and it fills up; booking ahead is not a bad idea.