Chasing the Perfect Pastel de Nata in Lisbon

On paper a pastel de nata is the simplest pastry in the world. Laminated dough, egg custard, a very hot oven, a dusting of cinnamon if you feel like it. In practice, a really good one is rare, and a great one is something you remember for days.

The pilgrimage starts at Pastéis de Belém, near the monastery, where the recipe has stayed inside the same family since 1837. The queue at the door looks brutal, but it moves fast, and the locals know to slip inside through the side entrance into the tiled rooms in the back. The tarts come out warm in batches, the pastry shatters when you bite it, and the custard is set just enough to wobble. After two of those, you already feel like you understand the city a little better.

Then comes the part where you compare. Walk the riverside back toward the centre and head to Manteigaria in Chiado, where you can stand at the counter and watch each tart leave the oven through a glass wall. The custard here is darker on top, almost burnt in spots, and the dough is a touch more buttery. Add a strong bica, that tiny espresso the city runs on, and a generous shake of cinnamon. Manteigaria also has stands inside the Time Out Market, which is handy if you cannot face another queue.

A quieter favourite, far from the tourist circuit, is Aloma in Campo de Ourique. It has won the national competition for best pastel de nata more than once, and the neighbourhood around it is one of the most pleasant in Lisbon, full of small bookshops and old grocery stores. Order one, eat it standing up at the counter like everyone else, and then go for a long walk along the tram 28 line to burn it off. You will probably stop for another somewhere on the way. That is allowed.