Official Report: 'Svelt Lindsay' may be a myth.

It's been long enough...I shall now devote an entry to my favorite Taiwanese food item: the "handheld omelet".  Phonetically it's pronounced "chung yo bing" and once I managed to remember that Chinese phrase I knew I would have no chance of going hungry here.  Given my desire to use this Asian/mystery meat experience to morph into 'Svelt Lindsay' (a characterization that I failed to embrace fully in hearty Prague), the discovery of what I call "a handheld omelet" has become both a gift and a curse.

Here it is in all its glory:

 

 Allow me to expand on the above visual as the full delicious appeal is too glorious for photography (and the lighting in my apartment flatters nothing and no one); the outside is some sort of crepe/croissant-y situation.  Complete with green onions this shell is fried to perfection and beat with a spatula to create the ideal texture (note: I believe the beating to be unnecessary; I have an untested theory that it would be even more amazing if it was left in its non-abused form).  Given Taiwan's tendency to add egg to everything I originally embraced this because I couldn't communicate it any other way--but embrace it I did!  An egg is fried on the hot-skillet and the crepe/croissant-y shell is placed on top of it.

With just these two ingredients (shell and egg) I have been more than satisfied on many an occasion, but it is not yet a "handheld omelet".  In order to complete the final process one must add bacon and cheese...which, fortunately for me, are pronounced in Chinese very similar to the way they are in English.  Once the latter two ingredients are inserted into the center the treat is folded over--ready to be enjoyed with enthusiasm and a smile on the consumer's face.

This "omelet" is typically a breakfast food, but I went through an astonishing amount of time able only to consume it at the night market stand where it was originally discovered (lacking cheese and bacon).  Once the official (yet not as creative) title was successfully researched the boundaries of consumption expanded to include the morning (when it is meant to be eaten), with a break in the afternoon before the night market man set up camp.  And then one shop changed everything.  There is a seemingly rare, yet utterly delightful, 24-hour breakfast shop a mere ten minute walk from my apartment building.  Actually they have more than breakfast food, but breakfast is what I am currently most concerned with...and (the most important part) the owner speaks fluent English.  Originally this was rather discouraging, for I attempted to order my meal in Chinese and she responded in English.  I quickly realized what a gift this is; I can ask her what certain appealing items are called.  I have been working on my aspiring position as a regular with a focus only food can provide me.  The relationship looks promising.

I wonder if there is any country where the potential of a 'Svelt Lindsay' actually exists...