The house shaped like a pizza slice

There are houses that are born from a dream and others that are born from a problem. Can Pizzeta has a bit of a dream, but above all it has a lot of having to overcome real difficulties. In fact, it started with a geometry as real as it was impossible: a triangular plot, narrow and sloped, wedged between the street, a neighboring property, and a stream, on the edge of the Collserola Natural Park. The project did not disguise the constraints, but rather turned them into the very shape of the house. That's why it's triangular, almost like a slice of pizza. And that's why the name suits it so well.

But Can Pizzeta is not just a geometric singularity. It is also a family story. The house where Olga lives is one of the last homes designed by her father, the architect Jacint Raurell, before he retired. They built it together over four years, in a slow process, which they recall as full of doubts, decisions, and renunciations. They say that more than a professional commission, the project became a conversation between generations: the experienced gaze of the father and the climatic and vital concerns of the daughter trying to find a balance point.

Olga's premise was clear: she wanted a passive, efficient, and fully electrified home, built with materials as ecological as possible. The initial idea was to build it entirely of wood, but the context forced a rethink. The proximity of the stream, humidity, termites, and fire risk ultimately advised a concrete structure. And this is precisely one of the house's interesting ideas: sustainability is not presented as a moral quality, but as an honest exercise in adaptation. At Can Pizzeta, contradictions are not hidden. The concrete is left exposed in many places and coexists with natural materials and low environmental impact decisions. The enclosures are made of thermo-clay, the large windows have triple glazing, and the house is particularly well insulated. There are solar panels, an aerothermal heat pump, and an energy production that often exceeds the home's consumption. Inside, the linoleum flooring, unpainted lime mortar, exposed ceramic joists, and pine wood create a warm atmosphere that, moreover, fits the tight budget that was available.

The house, with just over 80 m2 of usable area, has two floors, but it appears larger than it actually is. The spatial strategy has a lot to do with this. A double-height interior walkway crosses the space and visually expands the house while connecting the different rooms. On both sides, large windows let the forest in. One of the windows frames a majestic oak tree that changes with the seasons as if it were a living painting. A living-dining room and kitchen in a common -triangular- space, two bedrooms, a study with forest views, a glazed space for yoga, and two terraces are the elements the house has. In addition, thanks to the slope of the land, there is a half-floor that serves as a porch, very welcome during the summer months. Outside, a small vegetable garden from which food can go directly from the earth to the table.

Without utopias

Can Pizzeta, in any case, also speaks of another reality: the difficulty of building today. Initially, the idea was for it to be a shared dwelling with friends, exploring more collective and accessible ways of living. Administrative complexity and financing difficulties ended up making the option unviable. This renunciation is also part of the house. And perhaps this is what makes Can Pizzeta so contemporary. It does not want to sell a utopia, but to explain with honesty what it means to build a dwelling today: tight budget, constant limitations and contradictions. The triangular shape, the materials, the energy efficiency and the contained dimensions are not arbitrary decisions, but concrete responses to an environmental and economic reality.

There is also, inevitably, an emotional dimension. Designing one's own daughter's house forces you, says Jacint Raurell, to go "with the handbrake on", because there is always the risk of wanting to put into it everything that other clients do not let you do. Perhaps this is what turns Can Pizzeta into something more than a singular house: it is a project built between father and daughter that speaks of climate and speaks of housing.