Anatomy of a jian bing

If you live in Shanghai, and like yummy, filling, spicy things, especially when they are cheap, then this is your favorite breakfast.

It's called jian bing.  It's like a giant savory crepe.

You're welcome.

First comes the crepe batter.  Made, uh, like a crepe.

 Then comes an egg.  Broken on top and scrambled all around.  I've heard that you can ask for an additional egg if you have the appetite of a sumo wrestler or my brother Danny.

Generous sprinkles of cilantro and some diced, slightly-crunchy, lightly-pickled thing (maybe cilantro stems in rice vinegar? maybe some kind of really finely minced water chestnut scenario?  maybe some Chinese vegetable I've never heard of before?)

 This is also when she asks me skeptically if I want spicy chili flakes.  I say "dui" which means "yes," and she reluctantly puts like five chili flakes on there.  Then I point at the container of chilis and say "zhè ge" (pronounced Juh-guh, with an aggressive accent on the first syllable), which means "that" and point at my bing and say "là" which means spicy.  And then she shrugs and puts about a half teaspoon on my bing.  Chinese people think lǎowàis (foreigners) don't like spicy food, and it's an uphill battle to convince them otherwise.  

 Then you can ask to add potatoes (in the shredded, frozen hash brown format).  I told you, this is the best breakfast ever.  It doesn't have bacon, but egg + potato + spicy + starch is a great way to chase a long night out.  Adding potatoes costs an additional 1 quai.  It's the singe best way I know of to spend $0.16.  

 Then she runs a spatula underneath to loosen the bing from the crepe wheel.  There's enough simple starch in the batter that it gets a little bit lacy and crispy and lovely.  It's more delicate and crackly than a french crepe, likely because I don't think there's any egg in the jing batter.  

 Once folded in half, she smears a Chinese barbecue sauce on it.  It's somewhere between a black bean hoisin sauce and oyster sauce.  It's delicious.

 Then she adds a crisp wonton, does a speedy tri-fold (crunching up the wonton in the process), and makes a swift, stabby judo chop with the metal spatula to slice it into two pieces and slides your fresh, hot jian bing into a plastic bag.

The whole process takes about three minutes.  Which is likely faster than they could serve you an Egg McMuffin at McDonald's.  At at ¥4 ($0.65) for a bing, or a whole ¥5 ($0.81) if you add potatoes, it's also cheaper than an Egg McMuffin. 

I can happily eat half for breakfast and the second half for lunch.  It's one of the ten things I love most about living in China.  It's really that good.  

And now it sounds as if there is a jian bing food cart in Portland.  I haven't tried it yet, but if it's half as good and ten times as expensive as the lady on Wulumuqi Road, then you're in luck.

http://pdx.eater.com/2015/4/24/8493539/food-cart-reviews-bing-mi-portland-jian-bing

Happy eating.  

Hangover not required.

Shanghai Founder's Day - 10th Anniversary Shenanigans!

A post in pictures because I don't have time for many words.  Also in sort of random order and sort of reverse order because that's how they loaded into this post.  We're not winning any blogging awards here, people.

The beautiful pictures at the beginning are Shaun Sundholm's.  The less-well-art directed photos were taken by me and my other drunk co-workers.

We had breakfast, designed free (to us) Nike ID shoes, ran around Shanghai in capes to complete a scavenger hunt, had a concert on the roof, ate a big dinner while being entertained by belly dancers and guys with swords, and then the more vigilant/alcoholic amongst us made it to a karaoke after-party.  It was long and it was crazy and it was awesome.

 Sweet Cherie.

 These people are the best people.

Dan Wieden coming to WK Shanghai was like Justin Beiber showing up at a bat mitzvah.  He was a very good sport about it.

 Dan Wieden performing Daft Punk.  Like whoa.

Here's the list of scavenger hunt tasks.  It was my idea to have one of the tasks to be getting a WK-themed tattoo, as the Portland office did a few years ago.  I contacted a very reputable tattoo parlor to partner with so we could ensure out reckless coworkers would still get safe and quality tattoos.  No hep-C or shoddy tatto craftsmanship here, no siree!  When the tattoo parlor asked me how many people would get a tattoo, I said it was hard to predict, but I thought maybe 2-4 people.  After all, there are only 88 people in the whole office.  

19 people got tattoos that day.

I completely underestimated my coworkers.

I feel like I owe someone (or some people) an apology.  

That was insane.

 Dinner.  Accessorized.

Having fun with dinner. 

 Sleepy Yang.  (He's everyone's boss.)

 Talented David.  (He's everyone's favorite IT person.)

 Dancing Rob.  (He's a very gifted planner.  Not so much with the dancing.)

 Tattoo recipients unite.

 Individuals.

Failing so much harder.

Together.

 Multi-talented co-workers.

 Multi-generational singers.

 Oh snap.

 [heart]

 [swoon]

  Divas.

Wild and crazies.

 Hotties.

 I-don't-know-what-ies.

 Sillies.

 Loungies.

 Selfies.

 Selfies.

 MORE SELFIES.

(Yes, people in Shanghai really do have selfie sticks everywhere.)

 Lazy human pyramid.

 Marula getting head a tattoo.

(Sorry Mom and Dad!  Pretend you didn't read that.  Or better, pretend you don't even know what that means.)

 The work comes first?

No.

The work comes first.

 Lovely Linlin.

 The most relaxing spa treatments always involve an audience.

 This is our "team lunch."  We ran out of time and pretended to eat someone else's food out of the office fridge.

 After all the Chinese strangers who have asked to take pictures with me, it seems totally fair for me to take photos with random Chinese security guards.

WK talent in training.

 Susan Hoffman, where she belongs: at the top.

Breakfast. 

Also breakfast.

Happy Founder's Day, and Happy 10th Anniversary to WK Shanghai.

Good stuff happens here.