Enjoy patio relaxation, sangria, and succulent tapas with today's Groupon, which gets you $25 worth of tapas and drinks for just $10 at Catalonian eatery Chic from Barcelona. Renowned Barcelonan chef Tony Botella's secret rotisserie chicken recipe has crossed the Atlantic to get to 11909 Preston Rd. #1426 and into your belly. Honor the pilgrimage by making your own.
Chic from Barcelona's mouthwatering menu features an arsenal of tapas and entrees in a hip atmosphere, whether you dine in the sleek modernist dining room or on the popular covered patio. Pass around each Catalan favorite to share with your friends so that no one misses out on the manchego cheese, sweet sautéed piquillo peppers, or tapa de paella. At Chic from Barcelona, the chicken is cock of the walk, served with roasted apples and exploding with Old World flavor. Vegetarians and vegans can also nosh on a variety of tapas, salads, and vegetarian paella.
Pretend you live in the capital city of the Autonomous Community of Catalonia for an evening and make reservations for you and your Groupon-wielding friends.
- The Mediterranean-inspired menu is simply delicious. Chicken slathered in a “secret sauce” (think mild curry) and patted with aromatic herbs is the star here, paired nicely with side dishes such as roasted apples, rice steamed in garlic and olive oil, and piquillo peppers sautéed with parsley and garlic. – Nancy Nichols, D Magazine
- The patio Is covered so it was an oasis that day during the amazing rain storm, while we dined like queens protected in out little Spanish secret hideaway. (They have a full bar so perfect for a cocktail out or full evening too!) – Calgal4u2, Citysearch
- The food is great, good servers and good wine. It is casual but service is done to a T. The owners are friendly and Ii love the touches of the plates done by customers and on the wall... I highly recomend [sic] it for a wednesday night dinner with friends. – Brad C., Yelp
The Chic From Barcelona, Chapter 1: The Duel
“Zachariah,” he hissed lazily, as though spelling out my name in the venomous smoke he sucked from a reed-thin pipe. “How long has it been, 13 years?” “Month and a half,” I replied tersely, slipping through the beaded curtains to hang my fedora on the dusty Pachinko machine in the corner. “Barcelona,” I added. “Ah yes,” he smirked, his mind swept back on a cloud of opium-fueled nostalgia. “I suppose you are here to kill me then, yes? Like I killed your little bird?” Elizabeth. Elizabeth bobbing on her perch. Elizabeth pecking seed from the shredded newspaper at her feet. I felt my fist curl unconsciously. “Don’t you talk about her, Madrigal. Not ever.” A steel blade glinted from the sleeve of his kimono. Our dance had begun.