Florence Trippa: Home of the Best Sandwich You’ve Never Heard of – The Lampredotto

Nestled a stone’s throw away from the iconic Mid-Levels escalators, somewhere between the Caine Road Japan Home Centre and the beginning of Old Bailey Street, you’ll find a salt and pepper-haired, mustachioed Italian man in his early 50s donning an (almost) luminescent white T, wielding a pizza peel with the might of the intrepid Vulcan (Hephaestus for those Hellenists out there), and flashing a warm, radiant smile that will melt your heart like creamy, well-rounded provolone over focaccia. His name is Claudio and his shop is ‘Florence Trippa’. 

At first glance, it’s easy to miss. Caught in the throes of banal headache, a hurried crowd of pedestrians, and a winding, imposing line of the Chinese restaurant adjacent, two red Florentine flag insignias sandwich black lettering in a nondescript fashion. “Pizza,” “Pasta,” “Panini, “Trippa.” You shake it out of your head. I mean, there are hundreds of pizza shops in the city. You know good Italian food, right? What’s so special about this new spot? Little did you know, you just made the biggest mistake of your month and you haven’t even throttled your first Joe Bananas’ Jägerbomb at 2 AM on Saturday.

On any given night (except Sundays), you’ll find him bobbing and weaving amongst a profusion of pots and pans in a small kitchen, fielding a barrage of takeaway calls and Deliveroo orders with an unflappable grace, carefully ladling slow-cooked vegetable broth over fluffy, freshly toasted buns and sliding thin crust pizzas out of the oven with the precision of a surgeon – a Florentine, gastronomical surgeon. He offers up earnest anecdotes on longevity, happiness, and health, greeting regulars by name and welcoming newcomers as if they were regulars, putting into digestible prose an answer to a question he’s sure to field at least dozens of times per day (for now), “What the heck is a lampredotto?”

And that’s where our story begins. But first, a little housekeeping.

Florence Trippa: a Neighborhood Florentine Tripe & Pizza Haunt

While the lampredotto is the star of the show, Florence Trippa’s thin-crust pizzas more than pass muster, sporting a crispy, undercarriage that yields a satisfying crunch (one that would make Portnoy blush), tangy sauce, and a wide array of toppings.

Website, Address, & Details:

• Address: 39 Caine Rd, Mid-Levels, Hong Kong

This cozy takeaway shop serves up a wide selection of thin crust pizzas (my favorite being the ‘Sausage & Broccoli Greens’ – pictured above assorted classic pastas, and of course, signature lampredotto sandwiches (more to come on this below). The single, small wooden counter with slightly creaky stools, puts you shoulder to shoulder with other like-minded Caine Road (and Mid Levels) residents and a fridge of takeaway lasagnas, San Pellegrinos, and salads, leaving you no choice but to strike up a quick conversation or “cheers” a paper cup of wine and/or beer with whoever walks through the door.  

Florence Trippa is a relatively new spot in the neighborhood, which means it is working out the operational kinks, still learning to navigate the hectic waters of the post-7 PM dinner rush. But I assure you that whatever hiccups arise on the ordering or pickup front are more than made up for in hospitality and taste.

One of the most humanizing aspects of Florence Trippa is that you encounter other customers when they are at (sometimes) their rawest. It’s not like the majority of the pizza restaurants in SoHo, where you find Hong Kong’s self-anointed social elites, in flashy, well-manicured going-out garb, with great pomp and circumstance, starting their night out. It’s more of a, “Hey that guy’s in sweatpants and so am I,” with a post-work thousand-yard-stare still loosening and transitioning to mellifluous relief rather than a frenzied exaltation.

It very much reminds me of the one family-run pizza shop (which also happened to be in the back of a gas station) in my small town of New Hampshire, where you’d order, crack open a Squamscott lemon-lime soda, be regaled with tales of the town by the matriarch of the operation, usher out the town drunk after they came in loaded off of too many Rolling Rocks, and catch up with other regulars stopping by for a chat, slice, or both. However, we’re not in Kansas anymore. They have lampredottos here.

Pale Ale Travel Tip: It’s the small things like a lampredotto from Florence Trippa that make this city my home and why I choose to stay/am mentally setting up shop here for as long as possible. For further reading on what else I love (and don’t love) about this city, make sure to check out my post explaining the pros and cons of living in Hong Kong.  

The Lampredotto: The Best Sandwich You Wish You Heard About, Yesterday

The lampredotto is a Florentine classic and the first of its kind in Hong Kong (as far as I know – as of the date of publication). Deriving its name from the Italian word for ‘lamprey eel’ (of which my little corner of the globe in New England is well known for having an abundance) due to its resemblance to this slippery, grotesque, and surprisingly delicious creature, lampredotto is the fourth (and final) stomach of the cow – the abomasum (which is comprised of both lean, dark meat and light, fatty meat). Now you are piecing together that ‘trippa’ is just Italian for ‘tripe’. 

After my first lampredotto, I immediately pulled up Google to search exactly how many calories are in each sandwich (roughly), as I knew I was in for possibly the healthiest relationship (emotionally, that is) I’ve had with anything in the last five years. 

If you couldn’t tell, some of these pictures are taken at different points, which just showcases how many times I’ve been to this restaurant since I returned to Hong Kong from Japan.

Strategically tucked between two toasted buns and topped with a dollop of Tuscan salsa verde (with an anchovy salty tickle) and chili oil, the lampredotto sandwich (aka lampredotto panini) is a salty, savory, slow-cooked, warm, saucy football of Florentine tradition. And it’s your new best friend. For those of you who don’t like tripe or are weirded out by it. What are you, in third grade, and want a cheese stick or pudding pop instead? Get out of here Travis and no JNCO jeans are not as cool in 2023 as they were in 1999.  

The multi-hour simmering of the tripe in an Italian onsen of oil, vegetable broth, and herbs and spices (rosemary and garlic) prevents any gaminess or chewiness you might typically associate with offal. Prepared correctly (which it is), the thinly sliced stomach is tender, imparted with a healthy deep, savory flavor and juice from the stew (which some patrons actually order sans tripe and and sans bread). 

The roll isn’t just toasted, it’s crusty. However, I urge you to shake any negative connotations you associate with the term ‘crusty’. The outsides, toasted to an almost slight char, forming a crunchy exterior and shell to optimally cradle the tender, thin, silky tripe and salty, anchovy and parsley-infused green sauce, and chili sauce (if so desired).

It’s simple, humble, and nourishing, presumably first created to make use of popularly discarded entrails and other parts of the bovine and provide sustenance at an affordable price – hence, its institutionalization as a street food staple and go-to for the Italian proletariat. Claudio doesn’t depart from tradition in his pursuit of bringing this beloved sandwich by Dante (that’s right, it’s said that Dante was a big proponent of the lampredotto) to Hong Kong, with a sandwich clocking in at just under HK$50. 

Pizzas and pasta also come in at a very reasonable HK$98 (for a Margherita) and HK$68 (for most pasta on the menu) respectively – and HK$58 for a signature trippa pasta.

Pale Ale Travel Tip: I would be remiss not to mention my other favorite pizza joint in all of Hong Kong – Fiata by Salvatore Fiatta (just down the street on Staunton Street). If you are looking for a hip spot to slug a few Aperols, stand and shoot the breeze with the people of Hong Kong, and throw back some homemade Italian favorites (my go-to’s are the A’ Salsiccia and Porchetta), then this is definitely your place. 

A Hidden Gem – But Not For Long

Florence Trippa is unlike any other restaurant I’ve encountered during my six-plus years in this city, a city where I completely wrote the idea off of a true neighborhood pizza joint with all the fixings – warmth, pride, and community. One that isn’t monopolized in the name of Napoleonic expansion to overthrow Pizza Hut, fork and knife buffoonery, or prohibitive lines that contradict the core of what makes good pizza (in my humble opinion) – accessibility. 

It’s just good, old-fashioned comfort food, served at an affordable price and most importantly, with warmth and humility. It’s a warmth that I haven’t found in many places during my Hong Kong tenure and is something that keeps me coming back (and will keep me coming back). I’m thankful for it, the wonderful team behind the labor, and the lampredotto.

If you’ve been to Florence Trippa, I’d love to hear from you in the comments. If you had this iconic Florentine street food, then let me know what you think about it or if you have any favorites on the menu. Next time you are in, crack a San Pellegrino, roll up your sleeves, and eat your lampredotto at the small counter (or get it to go and eat it in the darkness like me).

Eat well everyone,

Big Body