Clearly, the team behind Barna at the Hotel Giraffe has a nose for trends – or at least for how to put a fresh spin on an existing trend. While all things Spanish have been hot since Patria introduced us to ceviche a decade ago, Barna taps the energy of Spain’s most exciting city, Barcelona, in both its cuisine and its ambience. In fact, it could be argued that this place is more about the trendy Catalan scene than the food, but it’s too early to tell. For now, it’s one very popular bar scene with a small Spanish-American menu of tapas and not-too-expensive plates.

But first: the scene. A nightlife veteran and scion of the family that opened Dorrian’s Red Hand on the Upper East Side, Michael Dorrian is the trendster behind Barna, just as he was when he opened Il Posto back in 1988, followed by Rebar in South Beach, and then Rebar here (which he converted to Suite 16 two years ago), as well as the Falls in SoHo, and, most daring of all, a Dorrian’s on Jersey City’s waterfront. The word Barna, by the way, is apparently a slang term Barcelonans use to describe their city, sort of like our Big Apple.

The restaurant is located throughout the Hotel Giraffe. The main dining room is located underground, appointed with neutral limestone surfaces and mirrored, back-lit arches that wrap around the perimeter of the space. Bright, chartreuse banquettes line most of the dining room, contrasting with the mahogany floors. The formidable bar is decorated with a mosaic of colored glass and wood, and is made from underlit white glass and faux stone. Colored, recessed lights and speakers give the room the feel of a nightclub, which it more or less becomes the later it gets. In addition to Barna proper there’s an outdoor cafe plus a VIP roof deck and garden. For guests of the Hotel Giraffe, Barna does room service, too.

Chef John Kekalos (of Heartland Brewery, Dorrian’s, the Falls, and Bookbinders in Philadelphia) has created a menu that he describes as Spanish with a contemporary American feel. (He explained this to our table personally after we had asked our very nice but relatively clueless waiter a few too many questions about the dishes.) Mr. Kekalos’s menu is small and seemingly simple, riffing on the tapas trend as well as on family-style plate sharing as it’s done in Barcelona. I’d like to think that the chef is playing it safe while Barna finds its footing – as a nightclub, restaurant, or both – because the menu isn’t nearly as Spanish as it should be, given the “theme” that’s reinforced in so many of the details, including the spiel the waiters give when describing the menu concept. But I did find a few authentic surprises.

The front page of the menu lists items “for the table,” consisting of a choice of three dishes for $12, four for $15,or five for $19. These include a nice assortment of garlic- and chili marinated olives, which were also proffered as a giveaway when we sat down. Albondigas, or meatballs, were made with ground lamb and savory spices; they were crisp outside and tender within. Beautifully crisped croquetas made with pureed potatoes and jabugo, a cured ham from the south of Spain, were among the best of the small bites, though the ham could have been from anywhere. The most innovative of the lot was the wedge of watermelon wrapped with Serrrano ham and dry goat cheese; it’s similar to prosciutto and melon in concept, and would probably taste better (read: sweeter) when watermelon is in season here. Grilled shrimp glazed with a honey-caper sauce were overcooked and dry on two different plates, but the salt cod fritters with garlic parsley remoulade were perfect.

A list of eight starters includes the aforementioned overcooked shrimp ($12), dressed here in green chili and garlic sauce; however, the bed of greens they were served on was a taste of the old country at its best: red swiss chard and yellow raisins sauteed in fiery chili oil. The juxtaposition of sweet and hot, balanced by the bitter greens, was excellent. Grilled quail brushed with a sweet-and-sour glaze was tender and juicy, accompanied by a buttery fava-bean salad tossed with chunks of Iberian ham and sweet roasted peppers ($12). Clams steamed with garlic, thyme, red chilis, and chorizo ($14) were barely cooked, and a splash of wine wasn’t boiled off, rendering the broth bitter and alcoholic. The pulpo and potato salad ($11) suffered the opposite fate: The octopus was overcooked and rubbery. The pan-seared foie gras ($16) with sweet pears, leeks, and Sichuan peppers was delicious and expertly cooked, but hardly Spanish, save for a drizzle of Rioja reduction.

Main courses included a beautiful slab of grilled Arctic char ($23) that was regrettably overcooked. A prime-aged sirloin ($28), on the other hand, was grilled a perfect medium-rare and served with a fabulous mound of sauteed broccoli rabe splashed with reduced sherry vinegar. Paella “Barna,” ($22) made with saffron-colored rice, shrimp, chicken, mussels, chorizo, and peas, arrived as picture-perfect as a composed salad, which is probably how it was prepared: Each of the ingredients was delicious separately, and they were obviously cooked that way. The rice, though tasty, didn’t have a hint of cooked-in flavor. Not surprisingly, then, the all-American grilled pork chop ($27) with applesauce, smoked bacon, and the aforementioned fabulous wilted chard, was fork-tender and juicy.

Desserts (all $8) were hit-and-miss. An orange and vanilla flan with Calvados-caramel sauce was inexplicably flat. A “Spanish Donut” that seemed awfully bready sat in an odd pool of fresh fruit tossed with creme Anglaise. The ubiquitous Valrhona chocolate torte was served here with surprisingly flavorful cinnamon ice cream and toasted almonds. Finally, the fried sonos – Spanish for zeppole – were magnificent puffs of crisped dough tossed with cinnamon and sugar. They were addictive.

Barna at the Hotel Giraffe, 365 Park Avenue South, 212-532-8300, www.barnarestaurant.com.