A Beijing–Tianjin dinner rush gives a clue to a modern Chinese retail phenomenon. At midday outside a flagship Bigge Pizza in central Tianjin, students and families queued for hours, screens showing dozens of parties ahead; in the dim light of mobile phones they waited for the single ticket that would buy a seat in a crowded, noisy dining room. That zeal is what has propelled Bigge, a northern-born self‑service pizza chain, toward a planned Hong Kong listing.
Bigge’s momentum shows up in the numbers. Revenues rose from RMB 944m in 2023 to RMB 1.147bn in 2024, and climbed to RMB 1.389bn in the first three quarters of 2025 — a year‑on‑year jump of over 66% that already eclipses the prior year’s full results. The chain now claims the top domestic GMV position among pizza restaurants and is positioning itself as China’s first publicly traded pizza buffet concept.
The product proposition is simple and calibrated to a youthful, value‑hungry market. For RMB79.9 customers get access to a self‑service spread that includes a dozen-plus pizza flavours alongside endless pasta, fried chicken, skewers, soups and desserts. Compared with sit‑down Western casual chains that push per‑person bills over RMB100, and even limited‑time Pizza Hut buffets once priced at RMB158, Bigge’s offer reads as abundant and low‑risk for students and young urbanites.
What distinguishes Bigge from older buffet brands is how it sources ideas and polices quality. New flavours and formats are crowdsourced through customer voting, tasting events and social‑media feedback; hit items such as a durian pizza emerged directly from online customers. The chain deliberately trims choice to about 130 SKUs, refreshes roughly 30% of items each year and retires losers through a “last‑place elimination” system, which reduces waste and keeps the menu dynamic.
Marketing is equally targeted and surgical. Steep weekday and late‑night discounts — weekday meals for RMB49.99 and deep late‑night cuts to RMB39.9 — convert students into steady weekday customers, turning slow time into core business. Students reciprocate by developing “hidden hacks,” filming challenge videos and creating the viral content that fuels free advertising and a cult‑like brand community the chain calls “Bi‑men” devotees.
Bigge’s appeal is not limited to students. The chain has become a refuge for solitary workers who treat the buffet as a comfortable, unhurried workspace and low‑stress social environment. On many weekdays the dining room splits between raucous groups replenishing calories and quiet corners of lone patrons watching shows on tablets, creating a hybrid social and emotional utility that extends beyond simple food service.
Ambition and constraints collide in Bigge’s expansion plan. Founder Zhao Zhiqiang has set a target of 1,000 stores by 2028, requiring an annual rollout some 1.5–1.8 times faster than the company’s recent pace. The chain is heavily concentrated in northern China; southern provinces, where tastes favour lighter, smaller portions and delivery, remain dominated by incumbents such as Zunbao Pizza and Salia, which have already locked in scale and price expectations.
Those incumbents point to deeper risks. About 80% of Bigge’s outlets are self‑operated, each typically more than 500 sqm and requiring RMB1.3–1.8m of investment — a heavy‑asset model that constrains rapid roll‑out and contributes to financial strain. The company reported an asset‑liability ratio of 93% as of Q3 2025, which, combined with intense competition in the south and the wider fragility of buffet formats, makes the path to national scale capital‑intensive and operationally tricky.
Bigge’s entry onto the public markets will be a test of whether a very localized, youth‑driven dining fad can be converted into a durable, profitable national brand. If it manages to adapt its format to regional tastes, shrink store footprints and improve capital efficiency, it could validate a new, experiential low‑price segment of China’s foodservice market. Failure to reconcile heavy upfront costs, regional consumer differences and big rivals would leave Bigge an instructive example of how rapid viral popularity does not automatically translate into sustainable scale.