Slice-Testing the Roman Pizza Hype at Hong Kong’s Alice Pizza

Located in the heart of Wan Chai (but the part less rife with sin and hedonism) and pronounced ‘Ah-lee-cheh’ (not ‘Al’is’), Alice Pizza is the answer to Hong Kong’s (surprising) Roman-style ‘in teglia’ pizza void. Somehow finding myself with more Italian friends than I ever realized I’d acquire in this lifetime, and sitting next to a certified Roman in my office, the buzz surrounding Alice Pizza is something I’ve hungrily watched them signal to one another via a variety of exuberant hand gestures for the last several months. 

I knew it was time I tried it so I could hit them with a double finger purse and “Mamma mia!’ to prove my relevance – as my daily ‘Buongiorno’s’ were slowly losing their linguistic luster. So I took to the viae and strata (“took to the streets”) to taste-test Alice for myself and see if this pan-baked, rectangular, thin-slice pizza pie hype was justified. I veni’ed, I vidi’ed, and I pizzi’ed, all in the name of finding my Calpurnia of the pizza world. 

Here’s what I found.

Website, Address, & Details: https://www.alicepizza.it/en/ 

• Address: 92 Queen’s Rd E, Wan Chai
• Price: $ – Prices start at HK$25 per 100g and go all the way up to HK$45 per 100g.

Pale Ale Travel Note: I should throw out that this is being written by someone who does still love his occasional Sunday ‘Pizza Hut’ cheese-stuffed crust with all the fixings, so know that I’m a weak, weak man with zero credentials to properly review pizza.

Al Taglio: Thin, Crispy, Pan Pizza Served by the Slice

If you’re anything like me (a bozo) and unfamiliar with what exactly traditional Roman pizza in teglia is, then this little primer is for you. I’ve Googled it in passing and realized that when quizzing one of my Italian fraters (brother) about Alice Pizza’s foray into Hong Kong and the Asia market, referring to it as ‘Rome’s answer to Detroit-style pizza’ was the equivalent of me denouncing the Pope or stating that “bunga bunga parties” didn’t actually seem THAT fun. 

However, I seem to be a gastronomic iconoclast with zero filter between my brain and tongue and regrettably let that comparison slip. After sitting me down and taking the floor in a fashion akin to Cicero before the senate, I learned that “No,” Roman teglia is not from the Italian 8-Mile. Sold ‘al taglio’ (by the slice), Roman pizza in teglia is a crispy, thin-crust pizza that is baked in a tray or pan (in teglia), sliced per the customer’s size preference, and sold by weight – allowing customers to try a wider range of toppings and flavors. 

Note: While also baked in a pan, Detroit-style pizza boasts a thick, chewy crust instead of an airy, light exterior like the Roman teglia. 

Its dough consists of a smaller-than-average amount of yeast, which results in a light, oxygen-rich end product that is known for elasticity, sturdiness, and digestibility. After rising for upwards of 24 hours, the dough is then stretched and rolled into a pan (or tray) and topped with various meats, vegetables, cheeses, and even fruits. The end product, an A4 sheet of cheese, sauce, and dough that could be folded into quarters and flown in a paper airplane race. I’m talkin’ thin-crust pizzas baby, not Mountain Dews (if anyone gets this reference, let me know in the comments). 

Pale Ale Travel Tip: I would be remiss not to mention the newest Italian restaurant that I just can’t get enough of – ‘Florence Trippa’. Located right on Caine Road, Florence Trippa is true to its name and serves up salty, savory, slow-simmered tripe sandwiches and thin-crust pizzas. Seriously, their lampredotto (tripe sandwich) has quickly become a top-five sandwich for this Big Body. You can read more about it in my post ‘Florence Trippa: Home of the Lampredotto’.

Roman Pizza Slicin’ & Dicin’ – But Mostly Slicin’

Having wrapped up a weekend of considerable bodily (and mental) abuse at Stazione Novella and 99 Bottles, I knew I needed to treat myself. To allow myself some wiggle room with my order, I walked straight from the gym (in Central) over to Wan Chai, head and feet dragging like Charlie Brown after foolishly believing Lucy couldn’t of course yank the football away in his run-up for the 100th time. After dodging a rogue Tesla that nearly clipped me at that illogical intersection near the JW Marriott, I finally made it. 

You’ll know you’ve arrived at Alice Pizza when you spot a gaggle of passersby with their noses pressed up against a glass window, peering at a technicolor layout of pan pizzas. Seeing the curious and hungry press their faces up against the outside glass reminded me a bit of that scene in Jurassic Park when, in the pouring rain, the Tyrannosaurus rex sniffs around the car, bumping the windows with its nose, where Richard Attenborough’s two grandchildren are trying to hide.

I joined an old Cantonese man to my left and pressed my rosy cheeks against the glass to view the ornate horizontal bouquets of dough, meat, and vedge. I wanted it all. 

Alice Pizza’s menu so that you can strategize before you step foot in the door.

I must have been in some sort of fugue state, potentially brought about by the canola oil emitted by the Model 3 that almost sent me to my ultimate “dance with the devil” (fantastic Immortal Technique song by the way) or the plumes of Zara red vanilla eau de toilette I could see and smell wafting over from Lockhart Road – as I had absolutely no idea what I was looking at pizza-wise and pointed to the first two that caught my eye. I was recommended the mortadella by my Roman desk mate and amateur pizza legionnaire. Somehow the fates smiled on me that day and the attentive Alice Pizza staff repeated back, “Alright, that will be one mortadella and one pepperoni.”

Mortadella pictured on the right, pepperoni pictured on the left.

Topped with a creamy, cold burrata, the mortadella sported a slightly porky and savory flavor – a nice contrast to the light, crunchy, warm undercarriage. Burrata (next to buffalo mozzarella) is one of my favorite cheeses due to its buttery, milky, and wet taste (and texture). This was hands down my favorite slice of the bunch as I generally found it to be the most balanced, with all flavors existing in far more of a symbiotic relationship rather than a parasitic (overpowering) one.

The standard pepperoni also more than passed muster and boasted a liberal distribution of crackling, non-greasy, salty, and slightly smoky pork discs. I could see with how thin the actual pizza framework is that if the pepperonis were overly greasy, any structural integrity required for a civilized bite would cease to exist. 

I had to take a picture to show just how thin this style of pizza actually is. 

I do have to give props to the deliberate preparation and what I imagine is precooking (and grease blotting) of the pepperoni before being transferred to its doughy steed.

The carbonara was also recommended as a “must-try” by several friends. To be honest, I didn’t even know what to look for when viewing the assorted pans out for display. The same woman who served me those first two slices was surprised to see me back within 3 minutes flat after paying and confidently declared that it was time for the carbonara. This was one salty bad boy. The saltiness was accentuated more than a bit by the naturally salty pork cheek topping and even by the runny, rich egg yolk – which seemed to take on a salty profile of its own after mixing with the other ingredients driving this slice. 

In my book, that’s a-ok. However, I could easily see those who want a bit more variety to each bite leaving unsatisfied. Unlike the mortadella, which yielded balanced, varying flavors, textures, and temperatures, the carbonara was a bit of a one-trick pony that I’m not sure I would (or could) continue with as my only slice.

Carbonara on the left, eggplant on the right.

Aesthetically, the vegan eggplant pizza caught my eye. At first, I thought it was some form of salted fish but was informed of my mistake while paying. I wouldn’t really consider this pizza as there’s no cheese or sauce and would instead label it as ‘baked eggplant on bread’. There was a natural sweetness brought out by the caramelization of the eggplant during the baking (or light smoking) process, however, it was still very mild and overall lacking a discernible flavor. 

There’s a little bit of chili olive oil on the eggplant but I can’t say that it particularly came through.

I think eggplant is a tricky one to let ride solo due to it containing something like 80 to 90% water, which I would have to acknowledge that the baked eggplant just felt like a slightly sweet, watery, mushy spread. I did throw on some chili flakes which kicked things up a notch and a slice of salty guanciale that had fallen off my carbonara slice. As a standalone slice though, this wouldn’t be a top choice for those who aren’t vegan or restricted dietarily in some other way.

I sat right near the bathroom as I had already consumed about 6 liters of water by this point in the day.

Based on the four different slices I tried at Alice Pizza, I would note that the crispness for each is definitely a higher variability than I’d prefer, which resulted in inconsistent bites and slices throughout. I think this really boils down to how long the pizza sits out before it’s reheated (and the level of reheating). The slices that sport an audible al dente crunch make Alice Pizza worth coming for. However, there may still be some timing and heating kinks to work out before the signature crunch is experienced across the board. 

Pale Ale Travel Note: One thing that I was a bit hesitant about was how you order your slices at Alice. There’s no real line when you enter and it doesn’t seem to be a particularly organized supply chain when ordering. However, each staff member moves with purpose and all my slices were selected and heated up within five minutes flat, so this may not be an actual issue – just more of something that had me a bit on edge. 

Finally, for all of those with a sweet tooth out there, Alice even serves up a warm, gooey, chocolatey Nutella thin-crust. If you’ve tried this, let me know in the comments. I’m more of a meat tooth rather than a sweet tooth so I generally do not grab dessert (unless it’s a special occasion).

What Was the Total Damage at Alice Pizza?

While the menu is priced in pizza per 100g, I’m not entirely sure of “the sizes” that their menu makes reference to. I just mentioned to the staff member that (while ordering in my fugue state) I’d like to try several types so I didn’t want a massive serving for each.

For my first round of mortadella and pepperoni (pictured above), I paid roughly HK$96 (USD 12.30). For the second round of their carbonara and eggplant, it was several dollars more and clocked in at HK$98 (USD 12.50). If I were a betting man and based on my pictures, I had 100g (or slightly more) of each flavor – so 400g to 500g of pizza in total.

I don’t normally eat lunch or late afternoon snacks due to intermittent fasting so I actually made Alice Pizza my only meal of the day (around 3 PM). I can confidently say that I didn’t go hungry and for the amount and quality of the slices, I’m satisfied with the price. 

Is Alice Pizza the Thin-Crust Answer We’ve All Been Waiting For in Hong Kong?

I’ve explicitly mentioned this on my ‘About Page’ but this is not a site where I’m keen on writing negative or less-than-savory reviews about any particular place or thing. In fact, if I don’t like a restaurant, I just won’t write about it. After all, who am I to anoint myself the arbiter of pizza truth? 

So, is Alice Pizza the thin-crust answer we’ve all been waiting for? For me, probably not. For you, that could be a different story and you won’t know until you try. As my high school physics teacher would say, “Some people take the bus to work, others wear their hats.” I don’t really understand this nonsensical saying but I interpret it to mean that everyone takes a different approach to life – and the same goes for pizza.

What I can tell you is that Alice Pizza is a formidable, quality pizza joint that has added some much-needed depth and variety to Hong Kong’s pizza scene. While I wouldn’t go out of my way to eat here again, I would gladfully stop by should I be in the neighborhood and need a quick snack to hold me over until the inevitable 12 beers of the night are consumed or a friend wants to tick it off their Hong Kong pizza bucket list. Almost every single Italian friend of mine has praised Alice Pizza to some degree and cited the nostalgia (keep in mind that this is a chain pizza spot in Italy), convenience, affordability, and baseline level of quality.  

I think an error on my end was not setting my expectations appropriately before I stepped foot in the shop. I mentally went in thinking that it may sport a similar vibe to my favorite pizza haunts (and powerhouses in the Hong Kong pizza game) like Fiata, Babacio, and Gustaci. However, Alice Pizza is far more of a pop-in and pop-out type of spot than a hunker down with several Aperol Spritzes, an appetizer or three, and a posy of cannolis. 

It’s a quality pizza chain to grab a slice on the go, a light snack before a night out, a gastronomic reprieve from a hectic day of exploring. It’s a casual Roman eatery that is known for takeaway. If I had initially (mentally) treated it as a quality pizza chain with just a single shop in Hong Kong rather than the “definitive answer” to Hong Kong’s somewhat monotonous pizza landscape then I may be singing a different tune. The point is, mea culpa. 

If you’ve eaten at Alice Pizza in Hong Kong (or Italy), I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. What did you like about it? Is it somewhere you’d go back again? Do you think the hype surrounding it is worth it? What’s your favorite pizza in all of Hong Kong and where should I check out next?

Eat well everyone,

Big Body