Pastel de Truta: Truta means “trout” in Portuguese, and back in the old country, the name also appears to generally refer to a pocket pastry filled with minced fish. The PTPB offers a delicious shrimp rissole, proving that they’re not seafood averse, but for whatever reason their version of this pastry has shifted from savory to sweet, with a pie-like sweet potato filling. No one seems to know how this happened (not even the owners) but the results are delicious enough that I’m willing to accept the mystery.
Patinha de Veado: A “deer hoof,” although, unlike the previous case, the name here is a visual pun (you can see the resemblance) and signifies a sponge cake coated in coconut, with an egg custard filling. The version here was also dusted with cinnamon.
Bolha de Berlim - The Portuguese version of a Berliner pastry, aka Berliner Pfannkuchen, aka Krapfen, fundamentally a yeasty donut with no hole and some sort of fruit or custard filling contained within. Its presence at the Western tip of the European continent serves as another reminder of how easily sweet baked goods like these pass from one country to another, gaining new variations in the process. This version, in line with Portuguese adaptation, contains an egg-yolk-based filling, and was served sandwich style. Somehow it didn’t manage to make it into the group photo above.
Pasteis de Feijao de Torres Novas: Reportedly a 19th century confection from the city of Torres Novas, which provides half of the name (the first half means “bean pastry”). This cake has a similar shape to the more famous pastel de nata, which were no longer available by the time I arrived at the bakery, and which I wasn’t especially interested in, considering their wide availability, especially in Chinatowns, where they’re billed as egg tarts, a legacy of the Portuguese occupation of Macau. This cake, on the other hand, is a bit harder to find, and contains a nice mixture of beans, almonds, eggs and sugar, creating a hearty, nutty taste unlike any other pastry I’ve had. It’s a reminder of how essential old-school outposts like this bakery can be, and how often strange, uncommon delights are hiding just beneath our noses.