At Bar Gambara in the lively Parte Vieja (Old Quarter) of the Belle Epoque seaside town of San Sebastián, I'm standing with my nose literally pressed against the counter arrayed with incredible delicacies. There are rosy curls of dusky Ibérico ham sfuffed into mini croissants; buttery tartlerts of local spider crab called txangurro; slender spicy txistorra sausage in puff pastry; aromatic sautéed wild mushrooms. I could easily have lingered here all night sampling my way through each dish but half a dozen more bars await as I join local friends on the Basque version of a Spanish tapeo (a tapas spree).

In their Basque incarnation, tapas are called pintxos. The tapeo here is known as either a txikiteo or a poteo—after pote (a short wide glass into which Txakoli, a slightly petillant local white wine, is poured from arm's length, to aerate it). A drink, a nibble, a chat, then on to the next bar, comparing this anchovy canapé to that stuffed piquillo pepper on the way. Locals indulge in this ritual daily.

Classically pintxos were simple morsels: a wedge of potato tortilla, batter-fried hake, or a briny skewer of anchovies, olives, and guindilla chilies. Then in the 80s, inspired by San Sebastian's Michelinstarred chefs, local bar owners started updating their pintxos with boutique ingredients, decorating them like Fabergé eggs. This new cuisine had a name: alta cocina en miniatura. "Pintxos are a true culinary treasure; they are just as inventive as my food," insists the three-star local chef Juan Mari Arzak. He and I are at Aloña Berri, the bar in Barrio Gros that pioneered the concept of alta cocina en miniatura (miniature haute cuisine). Order a pintxos degustation here and you'll get food that belongs at a restaurant like French Laundry. For instance? A stunningly elegant napoleon of caramelized foie gras, mackerel, and roasted pepper decorated with pansies and glistening trout eggs.

Nearby, also in Gros, Bar Bergara is the cartier of canapé bars. So elaborate are its offerings, owner Patxi Bergara and his team take hours putting together the spectacular counter display. Sporting frilly chive garlands, grated egg sprinkles, and technicolor bell-pepper confetti, the pintxos preen from their Villeroy & Boch plates like lilliputian wedding cakes. Among the standouts is "anchovy lasagne," (a canapé of pisto and anchoas finished with aged balsamic vinegar); and the baguette rounds topped with smoked bacalao, Spanish Raf tomatoes, dates, and thyme—all accessorized with wisps of fried onion.

The trend continues with the new generation. Faced with economic realities, ambitious young local chefs who dream of big restaurants often end up opening pintxo bars where they serve miniature restaurant food—at bar prices. That's what you get at Cuchara de San Telmo, a Parte Vieja sensation that draws huge crowds with four-dollar marvels like caramelized foie gras ravioli, or luscious chilled crab soup dabbed with tomato compote. An olive's toss from Cuchara, the new A Fuego Negro ups the ante with mini plates of seared tuna belly ringed by spicy green dots of guindilla pepper mayonnaise and frothy soy "air." Or how about tartapple dice suspended in a bubbly Txakoli gelée?

To a tourist, the density of bars and the outrageous pintxos variety in Parte Vieja can seem positively dizzying. Locals, however, are strict, patronizing each bar for its own particular specialty. While Goiz-Argi is famous for bacony shrimp brochettes, the pint-sized Txepetxa is a shrine to fresh-anchovy dishes. If fried prawn rolls on parsley oil is a must-order at La Viña, at Bar Martínez everyone grabs the clever crab mousse and zucchini "charlottes." Oh, and did I mention the famous Jabugo ham served at the folksy La Cepa, and the array of egg tortillas at Borda Berri?

This explains why I often hit six bars a night—and that's before dinner! Only in San Sebastián.

Do Try this at Home
Admittedly the Basques leave the task of preparing their pintxos to the bars. But lacking one on your street corner, pintxos translate beautifully to entertaining at home on this side of the Atlantic. Unless you attempt alta cocina en miniatura, most classic morsels are so simple, they hardly require actual recipes. Serve 3-4 bites before a sit-down dinner, or make a fun jazzy meal of it by adding some hot items, such as albóndigas (meatballs), or pieces of white fish filet dipped in flour, dunked in a simple beaten egg batter, and fried in very hot olive oil.

Briny, spicy appetite-stimulating bites impaled on wooden skewers are among the most popular classic pintxos. The most iconic Basque skewer, called Gilda — supposedly after Rita Hayworth's "spicy" performance in film of the same name — alternates green olives, rolled-up anchovies, slender aromatic pickled guindilla chiles, and sometimes red bell pepper chunks on wooden toothpicks. Here are some other skewer suggestions:

• Chunk of Spanish canned tuna alternated between cocktail onions and cornichons
• Cubes of Manchego cheese, membrillo, and chunks of endive
• Cubed boiled potatoes, chorizo cubes; green olives; and roasted peppers
• Fresh fig quarters, rolled-up Serrano or Iberico ham slices, and chunks of radicchio.

Canapés — montaditos in Spanish — are another favorite and indispensable Basque bar staple, normally mounted on slices of baguette-style bread.

Among my favorites are:

• Boquerones and brown anchovies placed side by side on bread slices over roasted green and red pepper slices
• Toasted baguette rounds with mashed Cabrales cheese; diced apples and walnuts
• Grilled or seared morcilla sausage slices and a dab of good chunky applesauce
• Boquerones topped with salmon or trout eggs and minced chives
• Sliced jamon, piquillo peppers, and Idiazabal cheese passed under a broiler
• Wild mushrooms sautéed with garlic and diced jamon in plenty of olive oil.

Lending Basque counter displays their visual flair are platters of seafood marinated in a festive and simple-tomake vinaigrette brightened with bell pepper confetti. For this vinaigrette, whisk together ½ cup Spanish olive oil; 1/3 cup white wine vinegar; and 1/3 cup each finely diced green pepper; red pepper; and white onion. The vinaigrette is fantastic poured over tuna with sliced or boiled yellow potatoes and quartered hard-boiled eggs; steamed mussels on halfshells; skewers of poached or grilled shrimp; seared scallops; or boquerones.

Where would Basque pintxo spreads be without the scarletred pointy piquillo peppers adored for their silken flesh and sweet-tangy flavor? The piquillo possibilities are legion, whether stuffed, sliced, or sautéed. Some simple standouts include:

• Piquillo carpaccio: peppers split into halves, arranged on a plate, then drizzled with basil oil, reduced balsamic vinegar and a grating of Iziazábal or Manchego cheese
• Piquillos stuffed with a salad of canned Spanish tuna, finely diced carrots and celery, and a little mayonnaise
• Piquillos stuffed with salt cod brandade, dotted with béchamel and passed under a broiler
• Piquillos stuffed with mashed Spanish goat cheese, brushed with garlicky olive oil and baked for 10-15 minutes.

What to drink with the pintxos? Well, Txakoli is a natural, but a dry sherry, a light-bodied red Rioja, or a Galician Albariño are all terrific choices. Buen provecho!

Spain expert Anya von Bremzen is a contributing editor at Travel + Leisure magazine and writes regularly for Food & Wine. A recipient of two James Beard awards and multiple nominations, she is the author of five cookbooks. Her latest is The New Spanish Table (Workman Publishing).