KF.... Ski. Fried chicken at 2,123 metres: KFC’s Dolomites debut sparks row over the future of mountain dining

KFC is preparing to open restaurants on the ski slopes of Cortina d’Ampezzo and Madonna di Campiglio on 5 December, taking its fried-chicken buckets into two of Italy’s best-known mountain destinations—and provoking a dispute that has already reached the threat of legal action.

The outlets, developed in partnership with mountain-hospitality group Super G, will operate at 2,123 metres in Cortina’s Faloria Mountain Club and at 1,700 metres in Madonna di Campiglio’s Piana di Nambino area. Both are scheduled to remain open until the end of the 2026/27 ski season.

Italian reporting describes the openings as the first quick-service chain restaurants located directly on the country’s ski slopes. Their significance is not that skiers have never encountered a burger or a quick lunch in the mountains, but that an international fast-food brand is becoming part of the slope-side hospitality offer.

For KFC, the venture is an opportunity to reach customers in an unexpected setting. For its critics, it raises a question of identity: how far can mountain hospitality change before it loses the characteristics that make the destination distinctive?

Two restaurants, two high-profile settings

The Cortina restaurant will sit within the Faloria Mountain Club, a venue with a terrace and large windows overlooking the ski area. Super G has managed the renovated mountain venue since last winter, according to local reporting.

In Madonna di Campiglio, the outlet will be situated in Piana di Nambino, beside the Meraviglioso Campiglio après-ski venue. Both locations therefore place KFC alongside an existing hospitality model built around food, music and socialising, rather than simply introducing the chain into an isolated traditional refuge.

KFC will manage the two restaurants directly. The reported menu includes familiar products such as crispy chicken, spicy wings, sandwiches, sides and buckets, with the company presenting the format as a combination of quick service and food prepared on site.

The distinction between the commercial model and the mountain setting helps explain the strength of the reaction. These are not anonymous urban outlets transplanted into resort centres: they are planned for locations where the view, altitude and surroundings form a substantial part of the visitor experience.

Faloria shareholder threatens legal action

The most forceful opposition has come from Alberico Zardini, identified in reporting as a majority shareholder in Faloria SpA, the company managing the mountain’s infrastructure. He says he has written to the company’s leadership warning that he will pursue legal action unless the project is stopped.

“The mere idea is disgraceful,” Zardini told Il Messaggero. “It’s absurd and shameful to imagine a fast-food joint in the most beautiful spot in Cortina.”

He also questioned the compatibility of fried-chicken service with the positioning of the Faloria Mountain Club, where a luxury lodge is due to open on an upper floor. “I am 100% against it and will not just sit back and watch,” he said.

His intervention turns the story into more than a general argument between visitors who like or dislike fast food. It reveals disagreement among people with a direct commercial interest in the mountain.

However, a threatened legal challenge is not the same as an injunction or a cancellation. The available reporting does not establish that a court has blocked either restaurant, and 5 December remains the announced opening date.

KFC wants to move beyond its usual audience

The company makes little attempt to disguise the publicity value of serving fried chicken above the pistes.

Marzia Farè, chief marketing officer of KFC Italia, says the project reflects a desire to keep surprising customers and to reach places where they would not expect to find the brand. She describes the target audience as extending beyond its established Generation Z customers to young families and mountain enthusiasts.

“We strongly wanted this project because it perfectly represents the way we imagine the evolution of KFC: continuing to surprise, reaching places where no one would expect to find us, and doing so without giving up what makes us unique,” she told Brand News.

The choice of partner is important. Super G’s mountain venues already bring a contemporary entertainment-led approach to hospitality. In that context, KFC is entering a setting that has itself moved beyond the familiar image of a quiet hut serving a traditional lunch.

The commercial logic is therefore relatively clear: a recognisable food brand meets established mountain destinations with an international audience. Whether customers welcome that combination is the question the winter season will test.

Food becomes a proxy for a wider cultural argument

Oscar Farinetti, founder of Eataly, has become one of the prominent voices opposing the move. His objection is not primarily about KFC’s competence as a business, but about its relationship with the setting.

“I can’t say they’re not good at what they do,” he said in an interview reported by Il Sole 24 Ore. His criticism was that the product had nothing to do with local history and culture.

Farinetti also directed his argument at consumers, suggesting Italians should better understand and value their own culinary traditions. In comments reported by the Guardian, he contrasted fried chicken with a slice of salami and a glass of wine.

Mountain-environment campaigners and regional politicians have expressed similar concerns. Luigi Casanova of Mountain Wilderness lamented what he described as the end of the era of polenta and luganega sausage, while Trentino provincial councillor Paola Demagri criticised mountain identity being “sold out to Kentucky chicken”.

The language is emphatic, but the underlying issue is recognisable: whether resort development adds to local character or gradually replaces it with products that can be found almost anywhere.

These objections should nevertheless remain attributed opinions. The opening of two KFC restaurants does not, by itself, demonstrate that traditional mountain cooking is disappearing across the Dolomites.

Not everyone sees fried chicken as the principal threat

Other mountain voices have been more restrained. Cristian Ferrari, president of the Società Alpinisti Tridentini, questioned whether the controversy was receiving attention proportionate to its importance.

“We have nothing against fried chicken, but are we sure this is the issue we should be most worried about?” he said.

That response introduces a useful distinction between protecting a destination’s character and treating every unfamiliar commercial arrival as an existential threat.

It also complicates any simple account of “locals versus KFC”. The reporting reveals several different positions: outright opposition, concern about cultural change, a commercial argument for broadening choice, and scepticism that this particular development deserves such prominence.

The affordability argument remains unproven

One potential attraction is the prospect of a familiar, relatively accessible meal in resorts associated with expensive holidays. The Guardian identifies budget-conscious skiers as a likely audience, particularly against the backdrop of rising ski-pass costs.

But an important piece of evidence is missing: the mountain restaurants’ prices have not been disclosed in the available reporting. It is therefore premature to state that the outlets will necessarily provide a cheaper lunch than neighbouring venues, or that urban KFC prices will apply at altitude.

Affordability could become part of the story once menus are published. Until then, it is a plausible commercial proposition rather than an established benefit.

Nor is familiarity the same as universality. Some visitors may welcome knowing exactly what they can order between runs; others may regard trying regional food as an essential part of travelling to the Italian mountains. The restaurants will be testing those preferences in a particularly visible setting.

A debate about what resorts are becoming

The strongest feature of the controversy is that neither location is being presented simply as a place to eat. Both are part of a broader mountain-hospitality offer in which views, entertainment, architecture and social experiences carry commercial value.

KFC’s arrival makes that evolution conspicuous. A global logo is easier to argue about than a gradual change in menus, prices or the atmosphere of a mountain restaurant.

The partnership also exposes a tension within premium resort development. The same destination can market exclusivity, local authenticity and international accessibility, but those ambitions do not always sit comfortably together. Zardini’s objection to combining a KFC with a luxury lodge illustrates that conflict particularly clearly.

There are practical questions still unanswered, too. The available announcements do not provide detailed information about staffing, packaging and waste arrangements, supply logistics or the outlets’ environmental performance. Without those details, it is not possible to turn concerns about commercialisation into a substantiated assessment of environmental impact.

December will turn the argument into a customer decision

The next milestones are whether the Cortina opposition develops into formal legal proceedings, whether either project changes, and what menus and prices appear before the scheduled opening. Both restaurants are still planned to begin serving customers on 5 December.

For now, the dispute has given KFC precisely the element of surprise it says it wanted. It has also prompted a more consequential discussion about what visitors expect from an Italian mountain lunch: local food, a quick and predictable meal, a premium social setting—or room for all three.

This winter, that debate will move from newspaper columns to the slopes. The decisive evidence will be what the restaurants deliver, what customers choose, and whether an international chain becomes an additional option or a symbol of a mountain experience changing beyond recognition.