Ballin’ on a Brisket in Sai Kung: Rossi’s Pizza & Smoked Meats

At first, I had written several paragraphs on how brisket was at the heart of the American identity. Frankly, it was superfluous. I took a step back, looked at my scraggly Scorcese eyebrows in the mirror, and realized that brisket is a universal language and that there was no need to complicate great food with patriotism, geopolitics, and intersectional social justice. 

In Asia, you can find BBQ. Can you find great BBQ? Not often. And when you do, there’s a high probability that whatever restaurant it is, doesn’t serve brisket. There’s a labor of love and a high margin of error when it comes to smoking it, primarily due to space and time (sung like Mos Def in ‘Travelin’ Man’) requirements. 

Having lived in Hong Kong for over six years now (and experienced the city at various stages of its political decline), there has been very little in terms of reliable, high-quality BBQ. Sure, you can get a rack of ribs and some cornbread, and it feels familiar – but how often do you walk away actually (a) full, (b) satisfied, (c) not broke, and (d) feeling it was done proper justice? Rarely.  

But then I ate at Rossi’s Pizza and Smoked Meats in Sai Kung. And to quote my dawg T-Pain on Maino’s hit song, ‘All the Above’. Rossi’s checked off…All. The. Above. I always naively assumed that the apex of Western cuisine in Hong Kong was typically situated on Hong Kong Island (or in the likes of one of the five-star hotels in Tsim Sha Tsui). But this article is written to shatter that misconception and to cartoon Batman-slap myself back into reality. 

So here’s what I loved about Rossi’s Pizza and Smoked Meats out in Sai Kung and why it should definitely be on your radar not only for brisket but pizza as well. 

Rossi’s Pizza and Smoked Meats: a Brisket Family Affair (Sans Mary J. Blige)

Website, Address, & Details: https://www.facebook.com/simon.rossipizzas 

• Location: Shop 22, Ko Fu Building, 58-72 Fuk Man Rd, Sai Kung
• Price: $

Rossi’s originally caught my eye when conducting a one-eyed Google Maps scroll in bed the day before, just before I dropped my phone on my face and began my day with a slew of unrepeatable profanities that would make that one guy from Storage Wars blush. I really wasn’t sure what to make of it at first. Brisket in Sai Kung? Was a unicorn, chupacabra, and true love out there as well? It seemed preposterous. 

Then I remembered I had consumed something the prior week that caused me to spend an hour contemplating whether or not I had doomed myself to die of botulism and knew that it couldn’t be worse than that.  

Side note: I did also think I had contracted botulism several years before after I consumed a day-old bean and cheese burrito from Taco Bell. This was primarily brought on by a 10-minute YouTube video I had watched the prior night about a man who nearly died from eating gas station nachos. 

I ventured out to Rossi’s on a Friday to meet my old man for a bite and hang. It’s something of a regular routine that I am really enjoying and he would even reluctantly admit too. He’s a Sai Kung’er, having lived there for the last ten years, so I’ve heard more than my fair share about what it’s like to have exhausted one’s gastronomic options on the peninsula. 

He knew the bustling alley Rossi’s was tucked down well (between Fuk Man Road and King Man Street) and we wasted little time walking over from my red minibus steed. Upon entering, I was slightly caught off guard by just how cozy the shop was/is. While I’ve described previous shops as “cozy” but in a somewhat romanticized way, that’s not the case here. That’s not to knock it at all – Rossi’s is definitely just more of a takeaway spot. And after all, you’re there for the food, not the fixtures. 

However, I wanted to look my old man dead in the eye while regaling him with past tales of love, travel, and irritable bowel syndrome, and listening to him regale me with tales of my remarkable mathematical ineptitude as a child (and as an adult as well – I should clarify that it didn’t get any better as I aged). So, we grabbed a seat and I struck up a conversation with the owner, Simon, learning that it was a family affair: him, his wife, and daughter. 

Pale Ale Travel Note: One of my biggest gripes about living in Hong Kong is the general lack of affordable and quality Western food. However, Rossi’s has breathed some hope back into me. If you’re curious about what else I love and don’t love about the city, make sure to check out my post breaking down the pros and cons of living in Hong Kong. 

I’d Risk It For This Brisket (& Pizza Too)

My love for BBQ stems from an early age. I’m not quite sure why as I’m from New Hampshire but it quickly solidified itself as my favorite ‘cuisine’ (or cooking method?), so much so that I even took a vegetarian to a rib shack for a first date. There was no second date but I did engage in a tumultuous, sordid tryst with the restaurant’s pork ribs and baked beans for years to come. 

As I mentioned above, Hong Kong has always been devoid of American BBQ classics – especially beef brisket. While I’ve tried my luck more than a handful of times at Smoke & Barrel and several other self-anointed BBQ contenders across the Island, deep down I knew that I was fooling myself. It was familiar but familiarity doesn’t always translate to high-quality or repeatable grub.  

A Brisket Bap For Big Body

Catering to both local and international tastes, Rossi’s allows customers to order their brisket in one of several ways:

1. Sandwich/bap form, or as a 
2. Lunchbox (salad or rice). 

What first stood out to me (and was hard to miss) was the rotund, fluffy bun that was dusted with flour. Only in the course of research did I realize the menu actually referred to these as ‘baps’ (by the British) – large, round white bread rolls commonly stuffed with meat and sprinkled with flour. I also am now piecing together the slang that my one Aussie buddy used that I’m not sure is safe for the blog at the moment. 

With baps, the sprinkling of flour on top is typically done for aesthetics, functionality, or sometimes both. In this case, the bun was so fluffy and soft that I believe the light flour dusting may have been deliberate and in furtherance of preventing the roll from becoming overly sticky or tacky. 

After my first bite, I looked like I had found my way into a box of those powdered donuts you’d make your mom buy for you from the gas station as a kid. This was all well received though as the soft white bun retained a nice chewiness and ensured all of the juicy, tender brisket remained snuggly protected. 

Now, onto the taste of the actual brisket. I’m comparing this to the brisket that I’ve had the pleasure of eating in the U.S., what I consider to be the gold standard (and most widely accepted and known variation) when it comes to eating this bovine masterpiece.

First, this was one juicy mothertrucker. Based on just how much moisture the meat retained, I suspect that the brisket was tended to very carefully throughout the smoking process, with deliberate sprays of apple cider vinegar at regimented intervals (I could be wrong about this). 

This was a hydrated, moist brisket that pulled apart but was still able to retain shape and structural integrity – a brisket that was not divided against itself. An independent brisket (like Costanza in Seinfeld) that could have existed without a relationship with the BBQ sauce. 

The fact that the majority of the juice and flavor came from the trimmed meat rather than the fat (which there didn’t seem to be large concentrations of) is a testament to a controlled and thoughtful low and slow smoking process by Simon. It also speaks to the dry rub that was used, which if I remember correctly, was a standard Texas-style rub (salt, pepper, garlic powder, cayenne, paprika, and onion powder). The rub formed a nice little bark along the exterior of the meat and provided some textural contrast to the tender interior. 

I’m not entirely sure what type of wood chips and/or chunks were used for the smoke but if I was a betting man, it was applewood – which is a nice change up from the typical full-bodied smokiness you get from hickory (the most common type of wood chip/chunk used). Applewood is much milder and boasts a sweeter profile than hickory, with gentler smoke. 

The main reason I suspect it’s applewood is that the smokey flavor didn’t come through massively and instead worked judiciously in step with the tangy, sweeter BBQ sauce (of which there are six BBQ sauces to choose from). 

Pale Ale Travel Note: Brisket does trace its roots back to traditional Jewish cooking and was a popular cut amongst the Ashkenazi Jews. You might also know it as the primary cut used for making corned beef, which is then spiced and smoked and ultimately beef alchemy-ed into pastrami. 

I think I caught Simon off guard as after roughly 45 seconds, I was already finished with my rotund brisket sandwich, one that could reasonably stack up against a Chipotle burrito, and back for a second. That’s how delicious it was. 

My only regret is that I went there with a one-track mind and didn’t order the pulled pork. Something you can bet your bottom dollar I will do next time. With how well Simon handles(d) the brisket, which I personally find to be the toughest cut for smoke masters to…master, I’d be confident in any form of BBQ he serves (which I did see at one point ribs were in the equation).

A Creamy, Herby, Balanced Pizza That Can Go Toe-to-Toe With Anyone in Town

I Yakuza-chopped off one of my old man’s fingers as retribution for taking a slice before I got a proper picture.

Pesto is criminally underrated. Ricotta is also a sleeper in the cheese game. Mix in a slightly milky, tangy mozzarella and a sprig of pungent basil leaves on top and you have what might be my new favorite pizza combination. This wasn’t even what I ordered (my father did) but I found myself splitting the pizza with him. 

Rossi’s pesto and ricotta thin-crust pizza is freshly made and with high-quality dough that retains shape and doesn’t cave under the creaminess and/or wetness of both cheeses. There’s a silkiness to the pizza and its texture due to the congruous melding of fior di latte mozzarella (from Italy), a semi-soft mild cheese known for smoothness and elasticity, with the naturally creamy ricotta. 

This smoothness and creaminess contrasted nicely with the high heat (these bad boys are cooked in 90 seconds) crisp and mild leopard spotting (which points to hydrated dough that was cooked at the correct temperature), which provided further textural (and structural) depth.  

Overall, the pesto and ricotta pizza at Rossi’s eats extremely light (which points towards proper fermentation), making it the perfect pizza that you could toss back two of if you had a six-pack of Peronis and two Lord of the Rings movies on deck for the night.

Pale Ale Travel Note: Rossi’s Pizza & Smoked Meats was also named as the top newcomer to the pizza game in Hong Kong by an industrious and gastronomically concordant Instagram account I follow ‘Prof. Dr. Pizza’. I recommend giving him a follow/look as he has become a go-to for honest pizza recommendations in the city (having already done 600 pizza reviews in his Hong Kong tenure). 

Rossi’s Pizza & Smoked Meat: a Brisket Savior in a BBQ Wasteland

If you’re anything like me then you should probably do several laps around Sai Kung Pier to burn off all those baps you ate.

You can bet your bottom dollar that I’ll be returning to Rossi’s. And that’s for several reasons. 

First, I get to slap my old man around and show him that he just pulled landscaping duty and I don’t care that his fingers hurt (I hope for the sake of this reference that you’ve seen Happy Gilmore). 

Second, and most importantly, the brisket sandwich is emphatically the best brisket that I’ve eaten in Hong Kong. 

Third, the pizzas more than contend with the powerhouses of Hong Kong Island like Fiata, Little Napoli, and Falcone. 

Fourth and finally, Simon and family exude a warmth and excitement that can only be found at mom-and-pop shops – something that is extremely refreshing in this over-corporatized, often impersonal city. 

Simon and Co. made me realize that I don’t have to settle for mediocre brisket (or BBQ) in this beleaguered city. I deserve it. You deserve it. Sai Kung deserves it. Hong Kong deserves it. Now go get it. 

If you’ve been out to Rossi’s in Sai Kung or have another favorite spot for beef brisket or American BBQ in Hong Kong, I’d love to hear from you in the comments!

Eat well everyone,

Big Body