Suprisingly, - and thankfully, since we were hovering immediately beside the ovens/baking area - the line moved fairly quickly. I was provided sufficient time to review the items on offer, then narrow down the most fitting pre-lunch treat. In under ten minutes, an order was placed for a full-sized Original "Freshly-Baked" Cheese Tart and single slice of the Premium Cheese Tart. The Matcha Cheese Tart required an approximate forty-minute wait, which was lengthier a time period that I anticipated on staying.
Comprised of several small tables, two sofas, and an elevated communal table, the seating area was dim and isolated from the rest of the shop. Many customers had opted to take their items to go, so plentiful spots remained for me to enjoy my purchase while charging my ancient smartphone.
As an avid lover of crème brûlée, I gleefully peeled away the parchment paper lining to reveal a substantial layer of caramelized sugar. The surface was sturdy and exhibited a rich copper hue; it was toffee-like in taste yet crispy like cheese shards.
As expected, the lineup length multipled with time. By noon, cheese tart-craving clients had found their position outside the establishment in a gradually growing group.
Instead of making separate trips to Kensington, then the Fashion District, I swung by Icha Tea for a quick pick-me-up.
I rushed over to Fresh Off The Boat afterwards, even though I had already failed to be punctual.
To my utter dismay, Sarah & Tom had sold out completely of the subunit's comeback EP, and the re-stocking date was still to be determined.
Patience was running thin as Pablo and Uniqlo purchases weighed me down with each second of standing. When he slid an unsealed cup from behind the counter to me, I could express my horror by questioning its packaging. A highly unapologetic reply escaped his lips: "It's because you ordered a Regular."
Well excuse me if I didn't want to fork over any more for your subpar service.
Never again, Cup O House, never again.
Pablo's Original Cheese Tart was finally unveiled once I had returned to the land of A/C. The $14.99 tart was slightly smaller than Uncle Tetsu's Original Cheesecake, though not secured nearly as well in its paper packaging. A fragment of its delicate centre had detached mid-transit, despite my desperate attempts to maintain the box at level.
A fruity, almost citrus-like jelly lined the tart's surface. It was an odd pairing, to say in the least.