After about 3 hours of walking around Lisbon, I found my second (and third!) nata of the day.
After my exploratory wandering, where – strangely enough – I found some kind of hipster motorbike convention, and a park named 6 Abril, which I like to believe (egotistically) was named after me.
There was also the ‘charming’ man – I can only assume he was a bit of a misogynist, or talking on an invisible phone – who chanted a snake-like ‘cim, cim, cim’ while crossing into my path.
Chique de Belém II was a welcome rest bite for my tired legs. I ordered a nata, a coffee, and took a seat to whittle away the few minutes before the train back to Cascais.
I’ll temper my exuberance for their natas by saying that any sugary caffeiney hit would have gone down well at that moment. Nonetheless I thought Chique de Belém’s nata were so good that I had not one, but two. This pushed my pastry count to a dangerously artery clogging THREE buttery packages. I loved it; I will make no apologies. A weight watcher I am not.
The pastry was not so crisp as Pastelaria Orion’s, but the nata was so much tastier, butterier, and squishily warm, that it was a wee bite of eggy ambrosia.
I very much recommend Chique de Belém II and it’s ordinary shabbiness – it’s nowhere near as polished as Pastéis de Belém down the road – only added to its ‘hidden gem’ sort of charm.