It’s important to always have something to look forward to.
Like a month from now, when you finally get to unveil your Inception Turkey (turducken inside of a turducken, served by an actual turkey).
But first things first. Let’s talk about what you’ll be looking forward to tonight.
Hint: it’s wine. So much wine.
And maybe a little lobster risotto...
Welcome to Barcelona Wine Bar, a dark and sexy conclave of Spanish tapas, fat tempranillos by the glass and chance encounters of the late-night kind in the heart of Inman Park, soft-opening (very) quietly tonight.
This is one of those come-hither-looking spots. Like some convivial watering hole you’d stumble across somewhere in the Spanish countryside (okay, a really modern countryside)—dark floor-to-ceiling wood everywhere, light fixtures made of heavy steel, black-and-white portraits of busy-looking foreign people.
You’ll come here with a group (pre- and/or postgame scenarios should both serve you well) and carve out some space in the giant bar area to your left. Get some charcuterie going. Maybe a little Oxtail Marmita and some Drunken Goat (that’s goat’s milk soaked in red wine). It’s tapas, do your thing.
And speaking of your thing, there’s basically an encyclopedia of wines at your disposal. Mostly Spanish numbers—tempranillos, cavas, garnacha. Not to mention a formidable bourbon list and cocktails like the Hot Dahlia with roasted-jalapeño-infused tequila, cilantro and lime.
It’s getting cold out, you’ll need that.
Like a month from now, when you finally get to unveil your Inception Turkey (turducken inside of a turducken, served by an actual turkey).
But first things first. Let’s talk about what you’ll be looking forward to tonight.
Hint: it’s wine. So much wine.
And maybe a little lobster risotto...
Welcome to Barcelona Wine Bar, a dark and sexy conclave of Spanish tapas, fat tempranillos by the glass and chance encounters of the late-night kind in the heart of Inman Park, soft-opening (very) quietly tonight.
This is one of those come-hither-looking spots. Like some convivial watering hole you’d stumble across somewhere in the Spanish countryside (okay, a really modern countryside)—dark floor-to-ceiling wood everywhere, light fixtures made of heavy steel, black-and-white portraits of busy-looking foreign people.
You’ll come here with a group (pre- and/or postgame scenarios should both serve you well) and carve out some space in the giant bar area to your left. Get some charcuterie going. Maybe a little Oxtail Marmita and some Drunken Goat (that’s goat’s milk soaked in red wine). It’s tapas, do your thing.
And speaking of your thing, there’s basically an encyclopedia of wines at your disposal. Mostly Spanish numbers—tempranillos, cavas, garnacha. Not to mention a formidable bourbon list and cocktails like the Hot Dahlia with roasted-jalapeño-infused tequila, cilantro and lime.
It’s getting cold out, you’ll need that.
