Restobar MOS

Restobar MOS sits on a corner of the long road that runs down through Son Serra de Marina towards the sea. The double name is not a pose: kitchen and bar carry equal weight here. The house describes its own line as Mediterranean, fresh and international — dishes meant for sharing, built on seasonal produce, with influences from further afield. Son Serra de Marina is a place without hotel complexes and without a promenade, a grid of holiday houses between dunes and sea. There is barely any passing trade; people who eat here chose the detour. That makes it all the more striking how far the menu at MOS reaches: from patatas bravas the house way and Padrón peppers through a salmon tiradito with charred pineapple, fried corn and mandarin to tuna tartare in an avocado roll, plantain patacones filled with beef with guacamole and pico de gallo, and a vegetable kakiage with tahini soy, shichimi togarashi and wasabi mayonnaise. The kitchen at Restobar MOS With selected fish dishes you choose the treatment yourself: either a garlic and parsley dressing or oil with garlic and chilli, Donostiarra style. The menu runs to John Dory tacos with a salsa of charred vegetables and pickled cabbage, grilled salmon with a beurre blanc of cherry tomato and fresh herbs, tuna tataki with wakame salad and wasabi mayonnaise, a red snapper fillet and the catch of the day. For meat the kitchen works with Black Angus: the tenderloin and the Argentinian entrecôte both come with a rosemary brown butter, alongside Iberian pork pluma with a seasonal fruit sauce and a burger with avocado cream, Maasdam, jalapeños and crisp fried onions. Grilled kefta skewers with tzatziki and pickled vegetables carry the same line further. Vegetarian cooking gets a section of its own: falafel tacos with guacamole, a risotto with seasonal vegetables and homemade ravioli stuffed with roasted pumpkin, burratina, tomato pesto, basil and pistachios. Individual dishes can be adapted to dietary requirements — ask the staff, who will also tell you about allergens. For small guests there is a short menu of their own. One habit runs through the card: what is fried is coated in chickpea flour, in the mixed fritura of squid rings, baby squid, prawns and John Dory fillet as much as in the prawns in the Thai-inspired mango salad with carrot, cucumber and peanuts. Arroz a la llauna: rice from the flat pan If MOS has a dish to be measured by, it is this rice. It is baked in a flat metal pan in the oven, seasoned in a Mediterranean way and served with a light crust; it is meant for sharing, from two people upwards. Three versions are on offer: with grilled Iberian pork pluma, as a seafood version with prawns, scallops and baby squid, or black with squid and garlic aioli. The house says of its llaunas that they must never be missing at MOS; for the pluma version it describes dry rice cooked patiently, with roasted red peppers alongside. Terrace, bar and evenings at MOS The house has a dining room and two terraces with plenty of shade; on one of them a fountain runs, which on a warm evening does more than it sounds. The sea is in sight from here, though you are not sitting on the beach itself — the walk down is short. Parking is easy enough to find in the side streets. The bar is not an appendix to the restaurant. Alongside classics such as the mojito there are house mixes in MOS style and alcohol-free drinks on the list, and the wine selection makes a point of including Mallorcan bottles. The sweet end is worth staying for: pistachio soufflé with coconut ice cream, a chocolate and sweet potato brownie with candied peanuts, an almond crème brûlée, tiramisu with a coconut note, grilled pineapple with mascarpone cream and rosemary syrup, or an affogato with almond ice cream. The house describes the tone of its service as family: guests should feel less like a table booking and more like visitors. In a village this size that is not a phrase but the condition for someone coming back the following summer.