Pastel de Nata
(A Love Story)

Like a salmon following the current, you walk into the rich and busy food market. You’ve never seen such a sight, and you feel like you’ve been transported back in time when the only way of shopping for food was through these street fairs; you half expect the appearance of donkeys carrying all sorts of goods and ladies with white bonnets, weaved baskets and big skirts walking about. The music, played in a corner but projected all throughout the stand-filled streets, is American folk from the 50s and you wonder if you’re in the set of a movie. In fact, if it weren’t for all the bonjours uttered everywhere, you’d wonder if you’re in Paris at all. There is so much to see you don’t know where to rest your eyes and at the same time, you feel like you’re inside of an impressionist painting – all the bright colored fruits and vegetables and the swirls of people passing by create those colorful dots and optical illusions you’re so accustomed to see in those lively paintings you so like to observe. The smells of fresh baked bread, coffee, fish, clementines squashed on the floor and flowers of every shape and color impregnate the air; whiffs of each one coming and going, distorting all your senses. The market is buzzing with people ordering things, tasting things, smelling things, observing things, pigeons flying in and out and vendors trying to get your attention by claiming that they have the juiciest, reddest and cheapest box of strawberries in the whole market. You catch the attention of a fisherman who is swiftly taking out the spines of a large sea bass, performing it as a delicate art you’ve never seen before. His hands move like if they were part of a dance and yet he cuts with exact precision, taking out the whole spine in one go. You are in awe. In awe of the fisherman, the colors, the smells, the people, the music – you are in a trance. And then out of nowhere, Kevin, whom you just met, grabs your hand, pulls you aside and says, “Have a bite of this, it’s called Pastel de Nata.” He hands you a pastry that resembles a mini quiche except that the middle is a custard yellow, a little burned, with cinnamon sprinkled on top and the crust is crisp and crackly. Without hesitation, you bite into the pastry.

The whole world stops.

The birds stop flying mid air, the music ceases to exist, everyone is mute. There is no movement, no colors, no shapes, no sounds, no smells – all your attention is focused on the delicious, heavenly rich pastry and you are in love. As you swallow and open your eyes, the world goes back to normal, but you have changed forever. You look into Kevin’s green brown eyes, kiss him straight in the mouth and run away with his Pastel de Nata.

– Alana