It’s a searing hot, noisy Saturday lunchtime at Mercado de Olivar. Chefs whirl like choreographed dancers, performing behind counters cooled by sheets of ice that are rapidly shrinking. Scallops sizzle in a plume of steam before running the gauntlet from hotplate to my plate, presented in a delicate pair of shells slick with garlicky olive oil. After two sweet mouthfuls, I’m ready for the next act.
Despite its Balearic setting, much loved for its beach resorts, the Majorcan capital’s dining scene can hold its own against any city in mainland Spain. This is largely thanks to its thriving local population. The Balearic Islands are home to around 1.3 million year-round residents and Palma accounts for almost a third of that. Tourism has brought wealth and spurred migration: lured by the city’s balmy climate, easy-access beaches, handsome plazas and arts legacy (it’s the former home of Spanish painter Joan Miró, for one), it’s now ranked as Spain’s fifth most expensive city to live in.
Palma’s rise in fortunes is reflected in the extraordinary breadth of its restaurant scene, but amid all the
