Day 77 : On-my-way-home made bread

Just around the block from our apartment complex is this corner. Often, unless the police drive them out, there are several venders selling various foods. I've written about them before, and probably will again and again because they are just so much a part of Chengdu and the identity of the streets.

(Have to post in the morning because of another internet sort of night last night . . . just sayin.)


But this lady, and her bread, are my favorite.

Four almost four years, whenever I've see her, I've stop. She greets me every time with a smile and wave. And every time I smile, wave back, and explain how I like the bread - bu yao lajiao, bu yao MSG (I've never learned how to say this so I just wave my my hand over it saying, "bu, bu, bu, bu." She gets it).

I love this bread. 

She rolls it out, sprinkles on salt and some oil, then sticks to the inside walls of the stove. When baked, she pulls it out with some long tweezer looking things, stuffs it into a plastic bag, and "Zai Jien!" 

It costs 3RMB (about fifty cents), and tastes like heaven baked in a street-side oven.