Don't tell the tech bros, but I've found a new bar and restaurant in North Park that gets me better than the algorithms ever have.
Nómade Tapas and Records has an intimate vibe, decor styled around warm wood grains, and a soundtrack governed by individual music lovers. The restaurant’s discreet sound system means there are no blaring speakers harshing the vibe. Everyone can hear the music, yet nobody has to shout to be heard. It almost gives a second meaning to "listening bar" — I'm hard pressed to think of a better place to practice the lost art of conversation.
Vintage vinyl LPs fill shelves behind a long bar that's bracketed at one end by two turntables and a mixer. DJs might step in to provide fresh evening jams, but on a mellow weekend afternoon, Nómade's management may simply drop the needle on Side A of something classic from off the shelf, and let it play. Say, the Rupert Holmes album Partners in Crime, led off by Holmes' biggest hit, "Escape (The Piña Colada Song)." According to Wikipedia, the song was number one in two different decades, holding the spot in both December 1979 and January 1980.

Today, it's playing when the clock strikes 2 pm, a noteworthy time at Nómade, because that's when the morning menu gives way to tapas and mains. Before two, you'll find the likes of French toast, avocado toast, and breakfast burritos — a short but sweet list of familiar items, priced around $14-18 apiece. After two, things get interesting.
We know from its name that Nómade Tapas and Records is a tapas bar, serving up Spanish small plates along the lines of patatas bravas ($9), crispy fried croquetas ($9), and olives ($6). But it's likewise inspired by Japanese listening bars, and the menu shows that influence as well. I noticed a miso-based clam and noodle soup ($19) and a chicken katsu sando ($22), the sort made on milk bread with a trimmed-off crust — though here they use buttermilk bread.

As enchanted as I may have been by the ambiance and record collection, this chance for a culinary voyage spanning half the globe was what made me feel truly seen. Because while I might dig a few tapas here and there, the chance to satisfy cravings from multiple cuisines in one sitting is more likely to keep me coming back. Gotta vary the playlist.
There's nothing strictly Spanish or Japanese about the lineup, either. I spotted a chile poblano soup ($12), steak frites with tallow fries ($32), and a ribeye smash burger ($26). If I wanted something creative and refined, I could order the heirloom tomato carpaccio ($16). Something indulgent? I could try the sourdough pan tumaca with iberico ham ($20). And if I felt like straying from my comfort zone, there was always the matrimonio (sourdough topped by a schmear of cream cheese and anchovies, $14).

As I considered my options, I realized that it felt impossible to go wrong — I could truly just go with my gut. The only mistake I made was in coming alone; with such a strong assortment on offer, it was clear that the best thing would be to order one of everything and share.

Don't tell the tech bros, but I've found a new bar and restaurant in North Park that gets me better than the algorithms ever have.
Nómade Tapas and Records has an intimate vibe, decor styled around warm wood grains, and a soundtrack governed by individual music lovers. The restaurant’s discreet sound system means there are no blaring speakers harshing the vibe. Everyone can hear the music, yet nobody has to shout to be heard. It almost gives a second meaning to "listening bar" — I'm hard pressed to think of a better place to practice the lost art of conversation.
Vintage vinyl LPs fill shelves behind a long bar that's bracketed at one end by two turntables and a mixer. DJs might step in to provide fresh evening jams, but on a mellow weekend afternoon, Nómade's management may simply drop the needle on Side A of something classic from off the shelf, and let it play. Say, the Rupert Holmes album Partners in Crime, led off by Holmes' biggest hit, "Escape (The Piña Colada Song)." According to Wikipedia, the song was number one in two different decades, holding the spot in both December 1979 and January 1980.

Today, it's playing when the clock strikes 2 pm, a noteworthy time at Nómade, because that's when the morning menu gives way to tapas and mains. Before two, you'll find the likes of French toast, avocado toast, and breakfast burritos — a short but sweet list of familiar items, priced around $14-18 apiece. After two, things get interesting.
We know from its name that Nómade Tapas and Records is a tapas bar, serving up Spanish small plates along the lines of patatas bravas ($9), crispy fried croquetas ($9), and olives ($6). But it's likewise inspired by Japanese listening bars, and the menu shows that influence as well. I noticed a miso-based clam and noodle soup ($19) and a chicken katsu sando ($22), the sort made on milk bread with a trimmed-off crust — though here they use buttermilk bread.

As enchanted as I may have been by the ambiance and record collection, this chance for a culinary voyage spanning half the globe was what made me feel truly seen. Because while I might dig a few tapas here and there, the chance to satisfy cravings from multiple cuisines in one sitting is more likely to keep me coming back. Gotta vary the playlist.
There's nothing strictly Spanish or Japanese about the lineup, either. I spotted a chile poblano soup ($12), steak frites with tallow fries ($32), and a ribeye smash burger ($26). If I wanted something creative and refined, I could order the heirloom tomato carpaccio ($16). Something indulgent? I could try the sourdough pan tumaca with iberico ham ($20). And if I felt like straying from my comfort zone, there was always the matrimonio (sourdough topped by a schmear of cream cheese and anchovies, $14).

As I considered my options, I realized that it felt impossible to go wrong — I could truly just go with my gut. The only mistake I made was in coming alone; with such a strong assortment on offer, it was clear that the best thing would be to order one of everything and share.
