High above the runway where history once roared, Cullinan Sky Mall is about to welcome a new kind of take-off. Fugazzi, a modern pizzeria-trattoria, is preparing to throw open its doors on the mall’s sky-lit third floor, promising Kai Tak a slice of Naples and a swirl of Rome without ever leaving the neighborhood. The name itself—Italian-American slang for “fake” or “phony”—is tongue-in-cheek: everything here is real, from the 24-hour cold-fermented dough to the San Marzano tomatoes still clinging to their volcanic soil perfume.
Step off the glass elevator and the first thing you notice is the aroma: blistered crust, garlic, and the faint caramel of fresh mozzarella hitting 480 °C. The oven is the star—a custom-tiled oven, hand-built in Naples, shipped piece by piece, and re-assembled like a puzzle here in Hong Kong. Around it, an open kitchen theater unfolds: pizzaiolos slap dough into perfect circles, pasta artisans feed bronze dies into slow-dried strands, and a lone nonna hand-rolls focaccia that smells like summer on the Ligurian coast.
The menu is tight, proud, and seasonal. Pizzas arrive uncut—Neapolitan tradition—soft in the center, leopard-spotted at the cornicione. Start with the signature classic “Diavolo”: fior di latte, spicy Calabrian salame piccante, and a drizzle of local wild-flower honey that bridges fire and sweet in one breath. The “Fugazzi Supreme” winks at New York, layering paper-thin pepperoni cups over vodka-blushed sauce and scamorza, then finishes with a shower of fresh oregano you can smell three tables away.
Fugazzi
Pasta is rolled fresh every ninety minutes in a temperature-controlled room that looks like a science lab designed by Fellini. Order the cacio e pepe and smell the aroma of Pecorino Romano, noodles tossed inside the hollowed crater until a glossy emulsion forms—no cream, no butter, just alchemy. Plentiful vegetarian options are also available.
Desserts stay playful. The “Tiramisu” arrives freshly prepared with an espresso-mascarpone fog drifting upward.
Fugazzi isn’t trying to be Little Italy; it’s Hong Kong’s own love letter to flour, water, and fermentation. When doors open in the first quarter of 2026, expect queues before the first pie even lands.