Editor’s note: It’s Breakfast Week here at CB, and to kick off the series, we first head to a street corner in the heart of Shanghai that offers a remarkable variety of breakfast foods. Stay tuned all this week for more morning dispatches from other CB cities.
We’re all guilty of indulging in the complimentary hotel breakfast buffet a little too often while traveling. But in Shanghai, the widest array of street food is on full display in the morning hours, as young professionals and retirees alike gather at their favorite stands for a quick bite with friends or on their way to work.
Just north of Xiangyang Park on the northwest corner of Xiangyang Lu and Changle Lu, a strip of shabby storefronts offers a concentration of breakfast foods. Think of it as an authentic outdoor breakfast buffet. And the prices are so affordable, you don’t have to feel guilty about skipping the “included” hotel breakfast, either.
While a few of the vendors have their own sit-down areas, some specialties are eaten on the go, usually while walking the last stretch to the office. Pillowy oversized steamed buns (包子, bāozi) stuffed with a variety fillings make for handy, portable meals. While most of the morning snacks here can be easily selected by pointing, making even rudimentary language skills unnecessary, the variety of baozi on offer necessitates a bit of menu reading. The pork with greens (鲜肉菜包, xiān ròu cài bāo), black sesame (芝麻包, zhīma bāo) and mushrooms with greens (香菇菜包, xiānggū cài bāo) are popular, though there are more than ten to choose from.
Rounding the corner, you’ll see two variations of classic fried dumplings, guōtiē (锅贴) and shēngjiān bāo (生煎包). You generally must arrive before 9 a.m. to get the more popular shengjian bao, which sell out early. These puffy, pork-filled dumplings are wrapped up with a bit of pork aspic, which melts into a savory broth when cooked and needs some cooling before eating. Nibble off a hole in the top or side of the dumpling skin to let a bit of steam escape before carefully slurping out the hot soup.
Just as in every Chinese hotel buffet line, congee (粥, zhōu) is on offer here. Simple and healthy, the rice porridge here is pretty bland on its own. Spicy pickled radish is on hand to liven it up, but we recommend going to a specialty zhou shop to get full-flavored varieties. Skip the congee here and head instead to the stands with breads cooked in a tandoor or baked on a giant griddle. For some protein, get a tea egg (茶叶蛋, cháyè dàn), a hard-boiled egg with a slightly cracked shell that’s been simmered in a slow-cooker filled with tea, soy sauce, star anise and other spices. It’s a flavorful treat best eaten early in the morning to ensure that it isn’t rubbery and overcooked.
Also on hand are jiānbing (煎饼), originally from Shandong province and a fixture of Shanghai’s street food scene. An amazingly deft ayi (“auntie,” a term of respect for an older woman) spreads the millet-wheat batter into a thin, crepe-like layer on a circular griddle and adds an egg, along with cilantro, green onions, pickled mustard tubers and a sweet soybean paste – and some spicy dried chili paste (辣椒, làjiāo), if you like. Wrapped up like a burrito with a crispy wonton cracker in the middle, jianbing is the perfect combination of sweet, salty, savory and spicy in every bite.
Legend has it that jianbing was invented when an army during the Warring States period (475-221 BCE) lost their woks in a battle. The general had to figure out a way to feed his troops and hit upon the idea of using shields over an open fire – hence the circular griddle today. After fighting their way out of an ambush the next day, the well-nourished troops couldn’t help but credit the new dish at least partially for their success, and jianbing slowly won over stomachs around the country.
In addition to the steamed and fried goods on offer, there are two recent additions to the corner smorgasbord. One serves Fujian-style “thousand-mile fragrant dumplings” (千里香云吞,qiānlǐ xiāng yúntūn). These wontons, a southern specialty, are tiny little mouthfuls of pork veiled in ethereal skins that float on the savory broth like mist. The other shop turns out Lanzhou fresh-pulled noodles and features all the classic Uighur specialties, complete with picture menu.
Perhaps the most amazing aspect of this classic neighborhood street food corner is the fact that it lies in plain sight, and as yet remains untouched by the wrecking ball.
Published on January 13, 2014