Pasteis de Belem
The old codger next to me pours his beer into a glass and warms it with his hands. I’m tempted to ask why, but I have a feeling that English is not his particular fancy.
The server is a grumpy bastard. He’s probably late 20′s, wearing the white shirt and blue apron uniform of this Lisbon institution. He frowns and clangs about the tables delivering mini tarts and cleaning off tables. I sit and wonder how many times he has done this exact routine today — or in his life for that matter.
The place is a little like Willy Wonka’s factory. Servers scurry about, and from my seat in the backroom, a lab like kitchen is visible where they must crank out thousands of these little Pasteis (egg-custard-tart-thing in English) per day.
My custard-tart-things arrive. I’ve elected to have port with them instead of a coffee. I look around and realize I’m not the only one — must be the economy.
I bite into little tart #1. It’s awesome. Warm and gooey inside — a fresh made egg custard. I’ll bet they kill a lot of chicken eggs every year.
Server guy continues to get his grump on cleaning up after sloppy patrons.
I bite into tart #2. It tastes exactly like tart #1.
He’s neglecting me. Am I supposed to pay on the way out? I swear he brought the bill to the other table. Maybe he’s punishing me for not speaking Portuguese. I frustratingly await my bill which eventually comes. I pay and leave the restaurant heading back out into the sunshine of the Belem area of Lisbon.
I would definitely go to Pasteis de Belem again as the area around this dessert emporium is incredible with it’s old architecture (despite the encroachment of a Starbucks Coffee house), and the long walkway along the sea is a place to lose yourself in thought for an afternoon.
The pasteis themselves were excellent, but I would likely come here, grab a box to go, and then sit somewhere in the park nibbling to my heart’s content.
