Jian (Bada) Bing!

For those who may not know, I recently obtained my driving permit at the ripe old age of 17 and a half. This means that I am always looking for opportunities to get behind the wheel. So when Jo suggested we check out a food cart recommended by her coworker and fellow foodie John, I was all too willing to get some driving in and sample something delicious and previously undiscovered to my tastebuds.

However, after 15 or so minutes of what was referred to as “argumentative driving”, Jo relieved me of my driving duties. While she and Doug claim that I am incapable of receiving constructive criticism, I cleverly pointed out that if she hadn’t been yelling at me to stop or slow down, I would not have yelled back. Newton’s Third Law or something like that. Nevertheless, I was relegated to the backseat while Doug took the wheel.

Eventually, we reached the Nob Hill Food Carts. It was absolutely packed. As soon as Oregonians see a hint of sunlight and the thermometer cracks 50, they flock outside in hordes, equipped with their flannels and Doc Martens. After weaving our way through the crowd, at last we found our destination, Bing Mi!, at the back of the cart pod.

Bing Mi! exclusively serves Jianbing, which is a traditional Chinese street food: essentially a crepe filled with egg, sauce, and whatever you have lying around. It hails from the north of China, and dates back nearly 2,000 years and comes with a legend to boot.

According to legends, jianbing was invented nearly 2,000 years ago during the Three Kingdoms period (220-280) when Zhuge Liang, Liu Bei’s chancellor in Shandong Province, was faced with feeding an army of soldiers who’d lost their woks. Zhuge Liang ordered the cooks to evenly mix water with wheat flour and spread the dough onto a copper-made griddle suspended over a fire. The dish lifted his soldiers’ morale and they fought their way out of an ambush. Since then, jianbing has been passed down through generations of families living in Shandong.

Source: https://www.theworldofchinese.com/2012/03/jianbing-a-guide-to-china%E2%80%99s-favorite-street-food/

I can’t speak to the validity of that legend, but I can speak to how the jianbing are made. Check out my view while I was ordering.

The menu was brimming with different options for fillings. After much deliberation, I decided on 4 wraps so as to get a varied sampling: one with roast duck and bacon, one with Chinese sausage and bacon, one with BBQ pork, and one with Spam. I had never had Spam before, but the dude working the register recommended it and I figured there’s a first time for everything.

A few minutes later, I was handed so much food I could barely hold it.

After carefully maneuvering back to our table, the five of us (shoutout to my cousin Autumn, visiting from Cali) dug in with reckless abandon. Though each jianbing was jam-packed with different fillings, they had a lot in common. They were all filled with egg (presumably cooked on the crepe-maker thing), wonton crackers (wonton wrappers deep fried to thin, crunchy perfection), and a generous shmear of hoisin sauce.

Jianbing is a symphony of flavors and textures. The egg is light and fluffy. The wonton crackers provide a crispy variety, and kind of remind me of matzah. There’s a cucumber here and there that’s cool and refreshing. The meat, whether it’s duck, BBQ pork, or Spam is rich, firm, and overflowing with umami. The drizzle of the sweet, viscous hoisin sauce brings it all together.

Because we had ordered 4 jianbing for 5 people, we just kinda passed them back and forth. Eventually, I lost track of what was what. But I particularly liked the one with Chinese sausage, as with the egg and bacon it reminded me of a Chinese breakfast burrito. Which makes sense, as jianbing is traditionally eaten for breakfast in the province of Shandong. The Spam was delicious, if a little too salty.

Quick side note about Spam: I think a lot of the disdain that comes from Spam has to do with its raw form.

But when fried or grilled, it becomes a completely different story. Spam is all over East Asian cuisine – it was brought by the American GIs stationed there from the 1940s onward. This is particularly seen in Korean and Hawaiian food. Anyway, all I am saying is give Spam a chance. It’s not half bad.

My first time having jianbing was a revelation. It reminded me of the “bomb pancake” I had in Taiwan, which makes sense. However, the “bomb pancake” just had egg and chili paste in it. These jianbing were above and beyond. One thing I cannot tell you about is the authenticity – I have no clue whether the jianbing from the Chinese mainland have bacon or Spam, but I can tell you that the ones with bacon and Spam were delicious. And the loose “savory crepe with a fried egg in it” template is a blank slate upon which vast culinary exploration can occur. Just off the top of my head, you could do a jianbing with pulled pork, or even pastrami.

Anyway, for my fellow Portlanders, please get yourself to Bing Mi! ASAP. And the rest of you, try to find jianbing as best you can. I promise it’s worth it.