Inside the mind of Daniele Cason, the chef bringing pizza omakase to Hong Kong
For most of us, pizza is a dish of comfort: molten mozzarella, charred crust, perhaps a splash of tomato sauce and a scattering of basil. For Daniele Cason, however, it is a language, one that speaks of childhood in Rome, years of discipline in acclaimed kitchens and an unexpected reinvention in Tokyo, where he transformed the humble pie into an omakase experience.
Now, after winning a devoted following in Japan, Cason is preparing to open a permanent outpost of his celebrated Pizza Bar in Hong Kong. The move signals not only a homecoming of sorts to Asia’s culinary capital, but also a new chapter in the evolving story of what pizza can be.
In our interview, the chef traces his unlikely journey, from writing letters to celebrated German chef Heinz Beck at 17, to discovering the rigours of Japanese shokunin culture, to dreaming up pizzas topped with everything from San Daniele ham to Hokkaido uni.
The heart of every pizza: Cason’s dough, kept airy, crisp and alive with every batch
A drizzle of extra virgin olive oil, treated with reverence in every sequence
You’ve turned something as humble and universal as pizza into an omakase experience. What was the original spark that led you down this path?It all goes back to Rome, when I was a kid. Pizza was everywhere; it was part of life, not luxury. But when I started working in kitchens, I wanted to see how far I could take it. At 17, I wrote letter after letter to Heinz Beck until finally he said, “Okay, come in.” That was the real start. From there, I went to London, then Cairo, and eventually Tokyo, because I’d always dreamed of working in Japan. And that’s where the idea of a pizza counter, done like omakase, really began.
Your toppings can veer from San Daniele ham to Hokkaido uni in a single evening. How do you design each sequence of pizzas?I think about it like a menu. I usually start with two tomato-based pizzas, something familiar—like a handshake. Then I move into the signatures, and after that, the more creative ones. It has to feel like a journey, step by step.
Be honest, what’s the most ridiculous topping someone has ever asked you to put on a pizza?(He laughs) Pineapple, of course! Always pineapple. Instead, I made petit fours with passionfruit from a moringa farm—the flavour was like peach and pineapple. It worked.
Pizza has changed a lot in recent years. How do you see that evolution?Pizza used to belong only to pizzaiolos, but now chefs are bringing in different techniques, different ingredients. For me, it’s about taking something everybody knows and saying: It can be more. It can still be fun, but elevate
Cason at the counter, putting the finishing touches on a pizza
Italy trained you, but Tokyo shaped you. What did Japan teach you that Italy couldn’t?Shokunin culture [or the Japanese term for a master craftsperson who devotes their life to perfecting their art]. The respect for ingredients, the attention to seasonality, and the simplicity. In Italy, you learn flavour and heritage; in Japan, you learn reverence.
Who are your culinary heroes?Oh, many. Juanma [or chef Juan Manuel Barriento] in Washington DC, Jordi Roca in Spain, Gaggan in Bangkok, and Noma in Copenhagen. Inspiration doesn’t only come from pizza. It comes from people who push, who reinvent.
You’ve once said the dough is alive. Does it still surprise you after all these years?Always. Every bag of flour is different. I ask the mill, ‘Where is this batch from? What blend?’ In Tokyo, I worked with three blends at once. The dough never behaves the same way twice. It keeps you humble.
Where do you eat when you’re not behind the counter in Tokyo?Japanese food, always. Kaiseki Komuro is incredible, Sushi Sawada too. And when I’m off-duty? A simple oyakodon, a donburi. Even at home, I cook Japanese.
Cason’s pizzino is a layered focaccia-style pizza with mascarpone, black olives and shaved black truffle
The chef’s favourite: a simple marinara lifted by Sicilian capers
After some hugely popular pop-ups in Hong Kong, you will be opening something more permanent next year. What excites you most about this next chapter?The guests. I want to see how Hong Kong reacts, how they feel about this kind of pizza. And building the restaurant from scratch—that’s exciting for me.
Will Hong Kong be a replica of Tokyo, or something new?Not a copy. I want to bring in more seafood. Abalone, for example. Hong Kong has its own flavour culture, and I want to respect that. I’ve eaten at places like The Chairman and Wing, and they’ve inspired me.
Finally, what does the perfect pizza mean to you?It starts with the dough. The person making it, the weather, the sensibility of the hands. Then the ingredients should always be the best. For me, pizza should be airy, crispy and light. My favourite is still the marinara with Sicilian capers. One bite tells a whole story.
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