El Pimpi

El Pimpi keeps the wine barrels its visitors have signed, Paloma Picasso among them, and sells a small roll filled with pringá, the meat pulled out of a cocido.

Why go

Pepe Cobos and Paco Campos came to Málaga from Córdoba to run a wine cellar, and in 1971 they bought the house on Calle Granada where a bar called El Pimpi already stood.5 1 A pimpi was the man who met the ships coming into Málaga port and walked the crews and passengers into the city.3 The terrace faces the Alcazaba and the Roman theatre, and behind it the house opens into a run of salons and courtyards, several with a bar of their own, as if they were a tavern in themselves.4

Cobos and Campos rebuilt the kitchen in 2004. They took every wine off the list and replaced it with a Málaga wine, and they went to local produce, to the point of farming their own: any fruit or vegetable you see on your plate when you visit this house comes directly from the market gardens of the Guadalhorce Valley.1 Antonio Banderas opened the salon that carries his name on Holy Wednesday in 2016 and has been part of the shareholding since 2017.3

The poet Gloria Fuertes started her Friday literary gatherings here in 1971, and Málaga University has kept a classroom in the building ever since.5 Go at lunch, take the terrace, and if you only have room for one thing, make it the city's own cold dishes.

Order this / avoid

Order: the montadito de pringá, the dish this bar is known for.3
Order: the city's own cold dishes: ajoblanco (cold almond and garlic soup), porra antequerana (a thick cold cream of tomato and bread), boquerones al limón (fresh anchovies cured in lemon) and ensalada malagueña (potato, orange, salt cod and black olives).4
Order: the fritura (the mixed fried-fish plate), and the jamón de castañas, ham from pigs finished on chestnuts in the Valle del Genal.4 1
Order: the rabo de toro, the braised oxtail.4
Drink: a glass of sweet dark Málaga Virgen moscatel at the end, which is how Lisa Johnson finished her lunch here.2

What locals & experts say

Condé Nast Traveller (2023): Lisa Johnson, the one writer who has described a meal here: Lunch is a steady stream of traditional tapas, including pil pil prawn croquettes and giant clams, followed by a digestif of sweet, dark Málaga Virgen wine. On the room: With a labyrinth of dining rooms, photographs of celebrity guests and wine barrels signed by Paloma Picasso and the like, it's a great place for people-watching, locals as well as tourists.2
Gastronosfera (2021): Arantxa López on what the 2004 rebuild was for: what it offers in food and culture has evolved, going from being a tourist icon to becoming the house of the malagueños.1
Academia Gastronómica de Málaga (2021): on how the fried fish is meant to come out: using quality fish, clean oil at the right temperature, and precise cooking times so it comes out at its point, that is, juicy inside and with a subtle, crisp coating.4
The house: its own slogan, which the academy prints as the summary of the place: El Pimpi is Málaga.4

Good to know

Timing: I haven't found printed opening hours or a price list for it, so check before you plan a late dinner around it.
Price: Gastronosfera calls the prices very affordable, and the Academia Gastronómica de Málaga marks it low to medium on price.1 4 That is cheaper than a terrace on this street looks.
The rooms: the named salons take bookings of different sizes, from four to nine people in the Salón Paco de la Torre up to thirty-two in the Salón Paco Campos.3
Next door: La Sole del Pimpi, a Japanese restaurant the same owners opened next door in 2016, with sushi and tiraditos and a view of the Roman theatre.1
Where: Calle Granada 62, in the historic centre, below the Alcazaba.2

Verdict

could-visit — A bodega below the Alcazaba with a terrace facing the Roman theatre and a run of rooms behind it, several with a bar of their own. Pepe Cobos and Paco Campos bought it in 1971; in 2004 they rebuilt the kitchen, replaced every wine on the list with a Málaga wine and started growing fruit and vegetables in the Guadalhorce. Order the montadito de pringá and finish on a glass of sweet dark Málaga Virgen. The cooking has never been reviewed by anybody worth citing, which is the only reason it sits here.