Jiānbǐng

At dawn, jiānbǐng (pronounced “JEN-bing”) vendors set up on corners and sidewalks across Chinese cities. They arrive on motorbikes, ready to prepare the country’s favorite street breakfast. Their vehicles are laden with hundreds of eggs, packed in cardboard trays that have been perilously stacked and tied together. They bring select ingredients, a cash box, and circular grills that reflect the dish’s origin story. Legend says that during the Three Kingdoms period (220–280 CE), soldiers who lost their woks would use their shields to cook batter over a fire.

As each modern warrior of the urban breakfast shift begins crisping his first pancake, a line forms. Hungry patrons watch a batter of mung bean and other flours spread across the hot griddle. There’s no rushing a jiānbǐng. Each wrap is made to order, ensuring a hot, fresh bite every time. While the crepe-like dough cooks, vendors layer on a beaten egg, followed by a smattering of cilantro, green onion, and fermented vegetables. Then, they smear on hoisin sauce, fermented bean curd, and chili, which provide pops of sweet, savory, and spicy flavor.

Most often, customers order the crispy crepe wrapped around a thin cracker called báocuì, but chicken and hot dogs also star as centerpieces. The finished product is folded over several times and hides pockets of filling in every bite.

By 10 a.m., after the last of the morning commuters have been handed their custom breakfast, vendors vanish. At 5 a.m. the following day, the grills appear again, along with a queue of patient, dedicated fans. In recent years, visitors and Chinese ex-patriots have opened casual jiānbǐng eateries in Western territories, primarily in shopping centers and occasionally as specialty restaurants. Since becoming more widely available, the dish has gained even more fans. Even though jiānbǐng disappears by noon every day in China, this ancient street food isn’t going anywhere.