Nix Tapas & Drinks

Carrer dels Escudellers is not for the faint of heart. It’s a narrow, sun-starved vein in the Gothic Quarter that smells of old stone, damp air, and the lingering ghosts of a thousand bad decisions. This is the part of Barcelona that hasn't been entirely scrubbed clean for the Instagram influencers, and thank God for that. In the middle of this beautiful, chaotic mess sits Nix Tapas & Drinks, a place that understands exactly what it needs to be: a dark, intimate refuge serving food that has no business being this good for these prices.

When you step inside, the noise of the street—the shouting, the clatter of delivery carts, the general hum of Ciutat Vella—fades into the background. You’re met with industrial-chic bones, warm lighting, and the rhythmic rattle of a cocktail shaker. It’s a small space, the kind where you might accidentally learn your neighbor’s life story if you stay for a second round of drinks. But you aren't here just for the atmosphere; you’re here because someone told you about the cannelloni.

Let’s talk about that cannelloni. In most places, it’s a heavy, forgotten afterthought. At Nix, it’s a revelation. Bathed in a truffle-infused bechamel that is unapologetically rich, it’s the kind of dish that makes you stop talking mid-sentence. It’s a protein-heavy, umami-laden gut punch that justifies the entire trip. Then there are the beef cheeks, braised in red wine until they surrender at the mere suggestion of a fork. They sit in a reduction so deep and dark it looks like ink but tastes like a week’s worth of slow-simmered patience.

The menu leans into Mediterranean fusion without falling into the trap of being 'clever' for the sake of it. The hummus is silk-smooth, topped with a drizzle of oil that actually tastes like olives, and the bruschettas provide the necessary crunch to cut through the richness of the heavier plates. Even the pulled pork sliders, a dish that has been beaten to death by every gastropub on the planet, feel vital here—smoky, tender, and served on bread that doesn't dissolve into a soggy mess.

The service is a far cry from the indifferent shrugs you’ll find on La Rambla. The staff here actually seem to enjoy the chaos. They’ll steer you toward a gin and tonic or a properly made Espresso Martini with the confidence of people who know their craft. It’s a cocktail bar that happens to serve elite food, or a restaurant that knows its way around a liquor cabinet. The distinction doesn't matter once the third plate hits the table.

Is it perfect? No. If you’re looking for white tablecloths and a quiet place to discuss your 401k, keep walking. It’s loud, it’s cramped, and if you don't have a reservation, you’re likely going to be standing on the sidewalk of Escudellers wondering where it all went wrong. But for those who want the real version of Barcelona—the one that’s a little bit dirty, a little bit loud, and entirely delicious—Nix is the spot. It’s honest food in a neighborhood that is increasingly losing its soul to the highest bidder. Grab a stool, order the cannelloni, and don't ask for the bill too early. You’ll want to linger in the dark for a while.