Smoked Room Madrid Review: Dani García’s Fire Omakase
Smoked Room Madrid is Dani García’s fire-first omakase: smoke as structure, not show. Despite the name, it isn’t a Japanese restaurant but modern Spanish cooking with Andalusian heart and a few quiet Japanese touches.
I arrived with high expectations and a quiet sense of good fortune to have the chance to sit at Smoked Room Madrid at last. A fire omakase by Dani García with two Michelin stars, hidden in plain sight inside Leña Madrid yet firmly part of his world. I wanted to see how the promise of smoke would carry a meal from first scent to last bite.
Location & Atmosphere
It sits below street level in the Hyatt Regency Hesperia Madrid. You enter through the same street entrance as Leña Madrid, then it slips into its own small cocoon. I remember this address from years ago, an outstanding dinner at Sanceloni when it held two stars. It was one of Madrid’s best restaurants. Unfortunately, it closed a few years ago.
Inside, the room is dark with small, focused pools of light. Black surfaces and clean lines give it the feel of an evening restaurant rather than a grand dining room, more like a discreet club with low voices, the soft thrum of the extraction and the glow of embers. Guests can sit at the communal counter, which is ideal for solo diners and couples, or at two tables for slightly larger groups. We were four, so we had one of the private tables. It felt almost like a small private dining room, although from there we could not watch the cooks at work. Service is precise but low-key, which suits the atmosphere.
Culinary Style or Distinctive Character
Smoked Room calls itself Fire Omakase. The word omakase feels a little zeitgeist, a bit of marketing. The meal itself thinks in Spanish. Andalusia runs through the pantry and the warmth of seasoning, a thread you also find in Marbella in my Skina Marbella review. There are Japanese touches in technique and product names, but this isn’t a Japanese restaurant at all. It reads as modern Spanish cooking after El Bulli, with smoke as a quiet through line rather than a trick
It also sits inside Dani García’s larger story. He is one of the few (with the right commercial partners) to turn serious talent into a wide, well-run group. His three-star restaurant in Marbella arrived quickly and, by his choice, closed soon after. I still remember a dinner there: in the kitchen, mid menu, he handed me a hamburger himself. Outrageous, a little subversive. A friendly wink that said, among all this craft, here is a bite of the real thing. Of the more than 50 three-star restaurants I have visited, this was the only one where a hamburger appeared as part of the tasting menu.
Smoked Room Madrid is a private chamber within Leña. The idea now lives in Smoked Room Dubai as well. As far as I know, these are the only Leña locations with a dedicated Smoked Room. The rest of the Leña family, starting with Leña Marbella, keeps the grill-house rhythm. Here, the fire moves slower. More deliberate. The heat is made to think.
Menu / The Dishes
Smoked Room Fire Omakase, November 2025.
Smoke threads the menu like a bass line. Present, restrained, shaping the edges of flavor rather than painting them black.

Brioche and white truffle butter
At the table, thin discs of white truffle sat under inverted wine glasses. The room picked up a light forest note. Our waitress whisked the butter with the truffle right in front of us. After mixing it was soft and creamy, fully scented. Warm, fine-crumbed brioche arrived next. The glasses, now lightly perfumed with truffle, were lifted and filled with Riesling. Not a gimmick. The pairing made sense, especially if you know how mature Riesling can echo truffle.

Shrimp from Motril and noisette butter
Quisquillas de Motril, served raw, had that almost custard texture that only perfect crustaceans carry. The nuttiness of the butter curved around their sweetness without swallowing it.

Smoked hamachi, roasted tomato essence and yuzu
A clean slice. Smoke as a veil. The tomato essence gave warmth and depth, yuzu a quick lift. The balance felt architectural.

Smoked sturgeon, nitro tomato, N25 caviar and horseradish
Dense, meaty sturgeon, gentle smoke. A cold rush from the tomato and caviar, then the fine heat of horseradish snapping the line taut again.

Sweet corn chawanmushi, roasted leek, king crab and smoked sea urchin
One of the best dishes. A silken custard with sweet-corn clarity. King crab for muscle and salinity. Fresh sea urchin placed on top, lightly smoked so the iodine and cream moved together. It tasted inevitable.

Aburi mackerel and dashi tomato
The fish was pressed and warmed just to the point. Tomato again, but this time a dashi-soaked murmur. A small, right-sized pause.

Charbroiled clams in Tosazu beurre blanc and fresh wasabi
Concha fina, large and firm, the kind of clam that keeps its snap even under direct heat. The Tosazu beurre blanc bridged vinegar and butter with ease. Fresh wasabi felt precise rather than loud, cleaning the finish without erasing the shellfish’s iodine.

Grilled sea cucumber, tripe jus and gochujang
Espardenyes, this rare Catalan delicacy, handled with real restraint. In Catalonia cooks grill the inner muscle of the sea cucumber quickly, letting it move from soft to springy, almost like a clean and lightly sautéed piece of tripe from the sea. In much of Chinese cooking the method is very different because the dried outer skin of the sea cucumber is rehydrated and slowly braised until gelatinous and ready to take on dense sauces. Here the kitchen follows the Catalan logic with speed, smoke and a firm bounce.
The tripe jus brought the dish into Madrid territory and acted as a refined reference to callos a la madrileña, the city’s classic stew of beef tripe, chorizo and morcilla. Reduced and concentrated, it gave the espardenyes a familiar depth without adding any weight. With a small touch of gochujang the plate felt like a contemporary interpretation of callos where land and sea connect through flavour instead of form. One of the best dishes of the night, even if the visual look does not do it justice.

Grilled lobster with rooster stew plin and yellow chilli pepper sauce
A surprising pairing that worked. The lobster was clean and sweet. The plin, filled with a rooster stew, brought an autumnal depth. Yellow chile sketched citrus and heat on top.

Itamemono lobster, shio-koji, maitake and fingerlime
A second reading of the lobster, this time savory and oxidative from the wok. Maitake for woodland chew, fingerlime for bright pop. The head followed, rich and sticky, an elegant nod to thrift and flavor.

Tuna cheek, pig tail jus and smoked N25 caviar
A powerful plate. The cheek cooked to that point where the fibers loosen but still hold. Pig tail jus brought glossy density, the smoked caviar echoed the room’s central idea.
You start to notice a pattern in the menu where seafood is paired with sauces drawn from land animals, and this dish makes the contrast especially clear.

Charcoal aged duck with red miso and whiskey
Another deep chord. The duck showed concentration from the charcoal treatment without bitterness. Red miso and a thread of whiskey pushed it toward a smoky sweetness, almost like long-braised beef in intensity, yet still duck in aroma. The only drawback was the meat itself, which lacked the flavour and texture you would expect from dry-aging and felt slightly disappointing.

Grilled tear peas and vanilla
A beautiful hinge between savory and sweet. Guisantes lágrima from Maresme, briefly warmed, tasting of chlorophyll and morning. The vanilla ice cream was young and fresh, and the peas made it taste clearer, not heavier. A small marvel.

Charcoal pumpkin and mandarin sorbet
Roasted pumpkin with toasted pumpkin seeds and a small quenelle of mandarin sorbet. It looked simple, but the mix worked well: warm, sweet pumpkin, a bit of crunch from the seeds and a clean citrus note from the sorbet that kept it from feeling heavy.

Chocolate, miso and smoke
A final, measured step. Bitter, saline, and gently smoky. Nothing to prove, just a clean landing.

Verdict
Smoked Room Madrid is a grown up restaurant. Evening energy, dim light, a room that expects you to listen. The cooking speaks softly but with intent, mostly fish and seafood, smoke as grammar rather than accent. It reminded me, at moments, of Doubek in Vienna, another fire-led kitchen, though the outcomes diverge in culture and cadence.
Within the Dani García universe, from Leña Marbella to Smoked Room Dubai, this address feels like the quiet heart. Andalusia is present in generosity and spice, Japan in touch and tool, Spain in the confidence to let product and ember do most of the talking. A coherent experience that rewards attention and, more simply, is a pleasure to eat.
Location: Madrid, Spain
Chef: Dani García
Michelin rating: ★★
Visited: November 2025
For a radically different take on Andalusian, seafood-first cooking, read my Aponiente by Ángel León review.
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