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.
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