Finally, after days of walking around Macau with my wife, two friends, and two toddlers, I find it. I’m down some random alley, Beco do Sal, at the aptly and logically named Portuguese Bakery. I might be surrounded by shop signs in Chinese, speakers of Chinese, and tourists from mainland China, but I feel like I’m back in Lisbon. I sprinkle some cinnamon and powdered sugar onto the caramelized spots and bite down. The crackling puff pastry flakes onto my lap, the warm custard hitting my taste buds with a rich creaminess. This isn’t the Macau of neon signs and slot machines; it’s where the city’s Portuguese soul is still baked fresh daily. The search for traditional Portuguese pastel de nata in Macau is worth it.
Two newly walking toddlers exploring Macau. (Photo by Tyson Peveto)
Traditional Pastel de Nata
But I live in China. I expect the expected from Macau, from the Chinese egg tarts. So why this hunt for a traditional pastel de nata? Let me explain.
For three years, from 2020 to 2023, my wife and I lived in Germany. On a trip to Portugal, I tasted my first pastel de nata. Falling in love instantly, I ate as many as I could. I quickly learned that almost every major city in Europe has little Portuguese diaspora shops selling traditional, homemade pastéis de nata. Those years in Europe were spent eating a pastel de nata (or two or three) on almost every trip we took.
When we first moved to Shanghai and started exploring our new home, I kept seeing what looked like pastéis de nata. My excitement would rise, I would run into whatever place it was (even a KFC or two), and I would buy one. Every time, I’m tricked by the caramelized spots visible through the glass warming cabinet as I walked down the street. Every time, I bit into the egg tart just to be crushed when I realized it wasn’t a pastel de nata.
Eating pastéis de nata around the world. (Photo by Tyson Peveto)
Portuguese Pastel de Nata Versus Chinese Egg Tarts
In China, egg tarts (or dàn tǎ) are overly eggy, super sweet, and are missing the flakiness of the pastel de nata. They just taste like a sweet scrambled egg. Which is fine if that’s what you’re expecting, but not so fine when you want the Portuguese custardy goodness. But why are there so many of these seemingly Portuguese egg tarts all over China?
It’s not directly tied to the Portuguese colonization of Macau, even though Portugal ruled the trading post-turned-colony from 1557 all the way until 1999, when sovereignty was transferred back to China. In the 1980s, Andrew Stow, a British pharmacist living in Macau, opened Lord Stow’s Bakery in the southern village of Coloane. Here he created the hybrid, Macau-style egg tart adapted for local palates that would slowly spread across China, ultimately reaching KFC by way of his ex-wife’s shop, Margaret’s Café e Nata, which sold the recipe to KFC China.
So when our group decided to visit Macau, I knew most of this history, and I knew I wasn’t looking for the modern adaptation but for the old-world original. I just wasn’t sure if I would find it.
The Parisian at night. (Photo by Tyson Peveto)
Cotai Strip: Chinese Las Vegas
Arriving in Macau, we head straight to our hotel on the Cotai Strip. This is the Chinese Las Vegas side of town: neon overload, replica Eiffel Tower and Big Ben, and synthetic indoor canals. We are staying at the Parisian, and its gold-plated (Versaillian?) hallways.
We walk into the perfumed atrium of the hotel to check in. And we explore the complex while slot machines chime endlessly in the background, before walking over to the Venetian, where fake blue skies are painted onto the ceilings and gondolas are rowed through Venice-wannabe canals on the third floor.
Taipa Village and Portuguese Pastel de Nata
The next morning, we finally leave the casino bubble for the humid air of tropical China. Our days are spent exploring Taipa Village and the historical Peninsula center on the mainland. These spots have everything you’d expect from a Portuguese colony: pastel-tinted facades, blue-and-white azulejo tilework, cobblestone streets (calçada portuguesa), and sprawling historic properties like the Mandarin’s House. We duck under drying laundry, follow the scent of pork chop buns, and watch as our barely-walking toddlers stumble on the cobblestones.
Taipa Village sign on azulejo tilework. (Photo by Tyson Peveto)
Portuguese Colonial History In Macau
It is jarring: nights of mega-resort glitz and days of 400-year-old colonial history sharing the same space. What is more reflective of Macau? The money-driven casinos built for Chinese tourists, or the imported culture built on the crimes of colonization? Obviously, both are present, and both make up what Macau is today. But it does make me question my own motives, searching for a product of European imperialism.
Search I do, because a traditional pastel de nata in Macau (or Portugal) is just too delicious not to. There are a few mishaps along the way: looking for shops that no longer exist, or ones that don’t carry pastéis de nata, or ones that claim to be traditional but still taste like KFC. I drag my wife and my friends around, pushing strollers not made for narrow, hilly backstreets, as we cross-reference Google Maps, Apple Maps, and Chinese navigation apps like Amap and Baidu.
Steep alley on Macau’s mainland peninsula. (Photo by Tyson Peveto)
We stop at Lord Stow’s, only to take a bite and recognize that familiar-egg-forward sweetness that I’m running from in mainland China. We walk past Margaret’s because I’m not making that mistake twice. I’m getting tired of seeing egg tarts in every window, knowing they’re not what I’m looking for. I’m fairly certain my group is getting tired of me, too.
Final Day: The Portuguese Bakery and Pastel de Nata in Macau
On our final day in Macau, deep in the backroads of the Peninsula, I finally stop at the Portuguese Bakery and find what I am looking for. The shop is tiny, maybe three tables. The sign has a few lights out, so we’re actually sitting in “Portug Bakery Coffee Shop”. But seeing them offer cinnamon and powdered sugar lets me know I’m in the right place. And that first bite transports me back to Lisbon, back to European cities, back to being covered in flaky crumbs and a slight dusting of cinnamon. Pastry perfection.
Pastel de Nata at Portuguese Bakery Coffee Shop. (Photo by Portuguese Bakery, Macau)
The next day we head to Portas do Cerco (the Barrier Gate). This is the historic 1870s Portuguese archway leading back into the mainland. Immediately, we’re walking through a modern, high-tech immigration hall. Immediately, my travel eSIM for Macau stops working. We’re being funneled alongside daily commuters into a glass-and-steel border terminal, separated by passport. After a quick conversation with border control, and a review of our visas, we emerge out the other side onto the broad, open plazas of Zhuhai Gongbei.
I spent days trying to map where Portuguese colonial influence ends and China begins, but here, the transition feels instantaneous and absolute. Walking out into Zhuhai, the cobblestones vanish, replaced by wide mainland avenues and the sleek terminal of the high-speed rail line. It feels even more pronounced as we step onto a brand-new bullet train bound for Guangzhou.
In a matter of hours, we have gone from drinking coffee and eating pastel de nata in European-style alleyways to barreling over 300 km/h deeper into the Chinese mainland, where history might be clearer but remains infinitely more complex.
Macau street (Photo by Tyson Peveto)
For More:
- On our site: We have many more articles to enjoy about foods from around the world.
- Visit Macau, Official Macau Tourism
-All photos by Tyson Peveto, except where credited.
