Sometimes we have to travel to find out what the fuss is all about. Maybe it's an historic site or a national park. It could be wildlife. Or a building. Or an experience. Sometimes it might be food. Or the people. Wherever you go in the world, there's always something that's the fuss. We went to Portugal for many reasons. But we figured while we were there, we may as well see what the fuss was all about with these pastel de nata things.
Yes, we planned on a lot of dessert eating in Portugal.
I've written about food a whole lot on this blog. Over the past eight and a half years, food has been a part of some of my best travel memories. My love of food has shown up in comprehensive (from my perspective, at least) posts about everything I wanted to eat in a specific city or country or region. It's also shone in very focused studies of a specific type of food like gelato or a single street hot dog. For Portugal, the only food I'm going to write about is the pastel de nata.
That's not to say that we didn't have other great meals and snacks while we were in country. I highly recommend the ubiquitous salt cod croquettes and sardines; the tuna and sardine paste on any sort of bread; the black pork cheeks; and (very specifically, here) the nut tarts on the breakfast buffet of the Vitória Stone Hotel in Évora. But the pastel de nata is the thing.
We didn't want to go halfway on this one so we did a lot of in field research on this one. Like 12-1/2 (plus one additional bite) full size and one mini in-field research. It may have been overkill, but when else are we going to be in Portugal. I can't chance another 49 years between visits.
Pastéis de nata at Confeitaria do Balhão, Porto. |
The origin of the pastry can be traced back to the monasteries and convents of Portugal. The story goes that egg whites used to be used to starch the nuns' habits, leaving the monks plenty of egg yolks to use up, which naturally led them to start using the yolks to make sweet treats for themselves and later to sell to raise money. I mean what else were they supposed to do with the yolks?
The source and timing of the origin of these pastries varies depending on which website on the internet that you read (I know, I know...always dangerous to read stuff on the internet and treat it as fact) but most seem to credit the Jerónimos Monastery in the Belém District of Lisbon with inventing these things sometime in the 18th century. Following the dissolution of the monasteries in Portugal in 1835, pastelerias (or whatever pastry shops were called in Portugal back then) started making the pastéis to replace what the monasteries could no longer crank out.
By the way, a singular pastry is called a pastel (pronounced pash-tel); more than one are pastéis (pronounced pash-taish). Quite frankly, one is not really enough. They typically are sold stacked with custard side together like a clamshell in sleeves of two or six. Go for the six.
Jerónimos Monastery, Belém, Lisbon. Where it all (allegedly) started. |
Finding a pastel de nata in Portugal is not a difficult task. They are almost literally everywhere, even on hotel breakfast buffets and in both airports we flew through. We certainly found it easier in Lisbon and Porto but pastelarias and confeiterias are plentiful in this country (the pastel de nata is not the only pastry available in Portugal by a long shot). You shouldn't have any issue finding them.
If there's one iconic place to get a pastel de nata, it's at Pastéis de Belém, which is on the block next to the Jerónimos Monastery. While there's some debate maybe about where and exactly when the original pastel de nata was invented, there seems to be little debate about where the first shop selling these things was established. It's here. In 1837. As evidence of how little debate there is about this fact, they don't even call the pastries pastel de nata. Here, they are pastel de Belém.
Based on everything we had read about Pastéis de Belém, we expected a long line here. We found none, perhaps because we got there before nine in the morning, and walked right in and ordered a few to go. They came in the characteristic six-sided cardboard sleeve with to-go packets of cinnamon and powdered sugar tucked into the flap that closes the sleeve. Time to find a park bench (also not a difficult task in Portugal) and eat.
In my opinion, if you are looking for a custard tart in Lisbon, you can't go wrong with Pastéis de Belém. The puff pastry was super crispy; the custard tasted about as custard-y as you could possibly want with the slightest hint of lemon; and it was warm with a smooth texture to the filling. Of all the pastéis we had while in Portugal, the crust of the pastéis we had here stands out as the most memorable. It probably attracts more tourists than any other place selling these things, but it delivers.
Our Pastéis de Belém experience in three pics. We tried these with and without cinnamon and sugar. |
To be perfectly frank, Pastéis de Belém checked all of the boxes (crispy crust, warm, slightly runny filling, sweet but not too sweet with a hint of lemon) for an ideal pastel, probably because they are focused on making and selling these things as THE core of their business, rather than making a dozen or way more different types of pastries. Although they do actually make other things.
There were honestly very few places that did check all the boxes. All too often we found ourselves eating cold pastries or non-crispy shells or scrambled-eggy looking fillings when biting into a pastel from whatever spot we happened to be in. Very few had all three of these things, although the taste was mostly right pretty much everywhere we went (it's not all about the taste). Most other pastéis came with at least one deficiency. Some came close and some (like the mini ones from our Évora hotel breakfast buffet; yes, the same one with the amazing nut tarts) fell way short.
As amazing as the Pastéis de Belém are, they were not our favorite in Portugal. That honor goes to Manteigaria.
The interior of Manteigaria at Rua do Loreto 2 in Lisbon. |
To be perfectly fair to Pastéis de Belém (and after all we needed to do a lot of research here...) we went back to Manteigaria for a second tasting to make sure they were better, and we agreed our first impression that they were the best was correct. But honestly. there's not much in it. And these two places separated themselves easily from the competition in every other spot we visited. It is definitely worth seeking both of these places out in Lisbon (and Porto, in the case of Manteigaria). I could eat a couple (or three) of these things for breakfast right now as I'm finalizing this post. From Manteigaria, of course, if I had my druthers.
Since I started writing this blog, we've had some amazing food in many corners of the globe, but I'm not sure we've ever had a cheaper and more fun quest for perfection in a food item anywhere in the world. These things are at worst just good and at best pure bliss to eat, with most of those that we ate tending to be toward the bliss end of the spectrum. They are incredibly cheap (if you pay more than €1,20 or so for a pastél anywhere other than an airport, you are overpaying significantly) and they can stand repeated and often eating, especially with all the hills in Lisbon and Porto. I'm confident I can work these things off super quickly. Or at least that's what I kept telling myself.
End of food blogging about Portugal for me. I don't know what else really needs to be said about the state of food in Portugal that can't be explained by a quest for the perfect pastel de nata.
"Pastel de nata, cream cake from Portugal". Breakfast buffet man-splaining in Évora. |
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