If you saw me walking down the street you would be unaware of the fact that I am on a pilgrimage.
If you saw me in a cafe though you would understand.
I am on a quest, pilgrimage, spiritual journey to find the perfect lemon tart.
Yes. I am that shallow.
I have become just the teeniest bit obsessed with finding the lemon tart that will stop me in my tracks and have me declaring to the world that I’ve found IT.
But here’s the thing. I’m not entirely sure what I’m looking for. Is it a slice (or 2) of a large tart? Is it a small perky tart that you can pop in your mouth in one go? Is it a tart for one that you can cut with a fork dividing easily into bite sized portions?
I know what it’s not. It’s not a slice of mass produced tart with a high crust and an unnatural yellow colour with brown circles burned on top.
It’s not the one from the French bakery near the station. Though I thought it might be so I checked… thrice.
I think it should be soft. Slightly wobbly. Terribly tart to taste but with lasting sweet undertones that complement my black coffee. It probably doesn’t have candied lemon on top but I could work with that if necessary.
I don’t know what it is or what it looks like but I will continue to search.
Because I’m obsessed.
And possibly because it’s not about the tart at all.