Four Corners

Barcelona is a city that usually demands its pizza thin, charred, and eaten with a certain Mediterranean restraint. But tucked into the ground floor of The Hoxton in Poblenou, Four Corners is staging a quiet, grease-slicked revolution. They aren’t interested in Neapolitan orthodoxy or wood-fired subtlety. They are serving Detroit-style pizza—thick, rectangular slabs of dough that have more in common with a structural sponge than a cracker, topped with a defiance that would make a purist weep.

Walking into the space, you’re hit with that curated, high-design energy that defines the Sant Martí tech hub. It’s a mix of digital nomads nursing laptops and locals who’ve realized that sometimes, you just need a meal that weighs as much as a small child. The atmosphere is buzzing, bordering on chaotic during the peak hours, with an open kitchen that pumps out the scent of bubbling mozzarella and spicy pepperoni. There’s a terrace for the sun-worshippers, but the real action is inside, near the bar, where you can watch the alchemy of the 'frico'—that glorious, burnt-cheese crust that forms the perimeter of every pie.

Let’s talk about that crust. It is the soul of the operation. It’s crunchy on the outside, airy in the middle, and reinforced by a wall of caramelized cheese that provides a salty, structural snap. If you’re here, you’re ordering the Mortadella pizza. It’s a decadent, slightly ridiculous mountain of thinly sliced meat, pistachio pesto, and stracciatella that feels like a fever dream of Italian-American excess. Or go for the 'Red Top'—the classic Detroit move where the sauce is striped across the top of the cheese, ensuring the dough stays light while the tomato punch hits you straight in the cortex.

Don't ignore the sides, though your cardiologist might suggest otherwise. The meatballs are dense, honest, and swimming in a marinara that actually tastes like tomatoes grown in soil, not a tin. They serve them with a side of focaccia that is essentially a vehicle for mopping up every last drop of red sauce. It’s the kind of food that demands you put your phone down and get your hands dirty.

The truth? It’s heavy. This isn't a light pre-theater snack; it’s a commitment. You will leave feeling like you’ve swallowed a delicious brick, and you’ll probably need a long walk toward the Bogatell beach to contemplate your life choices. The service can be 'hotel-casual'—meaning it’s friendly but sometimes loses the plot when the house is full. And yes, it’s located in a trendy hotel, which means you’re paying a bit of a 'cool tax' on the drinks.

But in a neighborhood like Poblenou, which is rapidly transforming from industrial wasteland to tech-bro utopia, Four Corners feels like a necessary anchor of caloric indulgence. It’s one of the best pizza spots in Barcelona for anyone who has grown tired of the paper-thin slices found elsewhere. It’s honest, it’s loud, and it’s exactly what you want when the sun goes down and the beer starts flowing. Is it authentic Italian? Who cares. It’s authentic Detroit, and in this corner of the Mediterranean, that’s a rare and beautiful thing.