LISBON — Call me a pastry huntress. Sounds rough, doesn’t it? While I wholeheartedly welcome the task, I do have to be mindful of fakes, inedible mouthfuls, and, of course, copious calories. To manage the latter, I walk miles every day on my quest, always in sturdy sneakers, to offset those extra (and empty) calories.
Rest assured, I have the requisite experience to deal with such matters of flour, eggs, butter, and sugar. Ten years ago, I crisscrossed Paris, happily devouring cream puffs and eclairs, the “it” pastry at the time in the City of Light. Two years ago, also in Paris, I attended the international Salon du Chocolat and ran around the city sampling chocolate bonbons, bars, and other confections. This time, Lisbon was my destination. My mission was to find the best of the Portuguese capital’s famous pastry: pastel de nata.
Lisbon is a large and welcoming city with churches, monasteries, palaces, and fortresses, some dating back to the 11th century. It is the city of seven hills, although it feels like more because almost everywhere you turn there seems to be a hill or flight of stairs. As far as the food goes, seafood is the star, including fresh, salted, and tinned varieties, as well as pork, soups like caldo verde, and various rice dishes, all of which can be paired with excellent and very affordable Portuguese wines.
If you, like me, have a sweet tooth, there is no more lofty goal than the delectable and ubiquitous pastel de nata (pronounced pash-tell de nah-ta; plural are pasteis de nata). These little tarts are composed of a rich, eggy custard surrounded by a crisp, flaky crust. Because the tarts cook in a very hot oven, the custard becomes spotted dark brown on top.
In addition to sampling “nata” around the city, I took a pastel de nata baking class. (There are many classes offered on the subject, but the one I took was at Homecooking Lisbon through Viator.) Not surprising, the custard is a fairly straightforward mixture of egg yolks, milk, sugar, cornstarch and/or flour for thickening, and flavorings, such as lemon, vanilla, and/or cinnamon. The sweetener takes the form of a liquid, a simple syrup made from sugar and water. Our teacher, Carolina Gomes, said that even though nata means cream in Portuguese there is no cream in the recipe, just whole milk. (Although there may be recipes that call for cream.)
The dough is the trickier part of the equation. It’s a laminated dough, just as for croissants and puff pastry, to create many, many layers that separate and crisp during baking. In our class, we worked with a simple flour and water (and pinch of salt) dough, rolled it out into a four-leaf clover shape, and placed a thin slab of … gasp! … margarine in the center. While many pastel de nata recipes contain butter, Gomes assured us that margarine is often used. One of the reasons is that margarine is made from vegetable oils and may have a lower water content than butter unless the butter has a high 80 to 90 percent butterfat. Cost is likely a factor for some bakers choosing margarine.
After the dough is folded over the margarine (or butter), it’s rolled out again and repeated a few times, so the fat is captured between multiple, super-thin layers of dough. It’s then rolled up into a tight jelly roll and sliced into ½-inch-wide spirals. These are pressed into small metal molds, using your thumbs, to fully line the insides of the cups. The cups are placed on a baking sheet and the custard is poured into each pastry-lined cup almost to the top. The tarts bake in a very hot oven (500 degrees Fahrenheit or higher) for about 10 minutes or until the custard is browned and the crust is dark golden.
The custards I sampled at most pastelarias tasted faintly of vanilla (some tasted ever-so-slightly rummy). The texture can range from thick to gooey. The best shops make their tarts all throughout the day, so at any time there can be batches of hot-from-the-oven, warm, and room-temperature pastries. You shouldn’t eat them cold. Nor hot, which will burn the roof of your mouth. I prefer room temperature to very slightly warm nata. I like the custard creamy and velvety and slightly thick, but not too firm, and definitely not cloyingly gooey.
While the custard may vary from place to place, there is only one way the pastry should be. The crust must be deep golden brown and you should see the many layers of dough (like phyllo and mille-feuille pastries) along the tart edge. It should be very crisp, shattering into flakes when you take a bite. Turn the nata over and you should see the swirl of pastry layers on the bottom. The bottom should be crisp too. If it’s soft or soggy it means the tart was sitting around too long or possibly undercooked.
Before I share my favorites, here’s a little history of the famous tarts: Portugal has a long and extensive pastry tradition, much of which was created in monasteries and convents. Egg whites were used for starching clothes, particularly nuns’ habits, which meant there were a lot of egg yolks left over. Once sugar became widely available, the yolks were used to make custards and other sweets. Pastries like pasteis de nata were sold to make money for the convents and monasteries, and raising funds became especially important after the liberal revolution in 1820. The recipe was later sold and the tarts were produced on a much larger scale at Antiga Confeitaria de Belem, established in 1837, now simply called Pasteis de Belem. (It is said that the shop makes 20,000 tarts per day, and almost double that in the summer.) Other Portuguese bakeries started making their own versions, but only those from the original bakery, with its recipe a closely guarded secret, can be called “Pasteis de Belem.”
So off I went, armed with a list of a dozen pastelarias and a goal to tackle two to three pastries a day. In the end, I liked most of the nata I tried, but some were slightly better than others to my taste. (Prices range from 1.3 to 1.55 euros — less than $2 — for one tart.)
My favorites were the nata at Manteigaria and Fabrica de Nata. The “original” pastries at Pasteis de Belem (rua de Belem, 84) were also very good but the shop had the longest lines and a process like an assembly line. Without tasting the tarts side-by-side and at exactly the same temperatures, it’s difficult to compare them. The nata at Pastelaria Versailles (Av. da Republica 15A) looked slightly different from the others; they were a bit taller with a slightly smaller circumference and the custard thicker and firmer. (You can stop at Pastelaria Versailles if you’re heading north to the excellent Calouste Gulbenkian Museum, but I found it was not the most friendly place to outsiders.)
Manteigaria has eight “factories” in Lisbon; popular locations include rua Augusta, 195-197, rua do Loreto 2, and at the bustling Time Out Market (Ave 24 de Julho). On its website, Manteigaria states that, “Butter is such a fundamental ingredient in our pastel de nata,” hence the name of its business, as butter is manteiga in Portuguese. (We can assume Manteigaria uses butter and not margarine in its dough.)
Fabrica da Nata, with locations at rua Augusta 275A and Praça dos Restauradores, 62-68, has a glass wall in the front of its stores so you can see bakers assemble the pastries and watch pans of brown-spotted nata coming from the oven. Confeitaria Nacional is a charming, almost two-centuries-old cafe at Praca da Figueira 18B, with seating inside and on a patio on the square.
While not an exhaustive list, other bakeries worth visiting if you’re in their locales include two centrally located cafes on rua Garrett, Pastelaria Benard (104) and Castro (38); Pastelaria Cristal (rua de Buenos Aires 11); Pastelaria Santo Antonio (rua do Milagre de Santa Antonio 10); and Pastelaria Aloma (Largo do Calhariz 3). Note that you’ll see custard tarts at all kinds of cafes, but they’re not all made in-house. Save your nata eating for the true pastelarias.
In most cases, you’ll find a shaker of cinnamon and sometimes one with powdered sugar on the counter or delivered with your nata. A sprinkling of cinnamon adds a pleasant nuance I recommend you try. There’s no need for more sugar.
If you’re heading to Lisbon anytime soon — but there’s no rush, because these pastries have been around for 200 years and they’re not going anywhere — lace up those comfy shoes and seek out the city’s best pasteis de nata. If you climb a few hills on your way, you can treat yourself to more than one.
Lisa Zwirn can be reached at lzwirn9093@gmail.com
Lisa Zwirn can be reached at lzwirn9093@gmail.com.