In another life, I will live above Tart, and never have to cook again. Or perhaps I can kidnap the chef and have her or him prepare me wonderful lunches every day. Meanwhile, I don’t know if mere words can do justice to the food here, particularly the tarts.
Oh, the tarts, the tarts...! Where do I begin? The crispy, buttery, lighter-than air pastry? The depth and generosity of the fillings? The fearless blast of taste in an age when flavourlessness is too often mistaken for
“healthy”? I never thought I’d say these words, but these tarts are better than my sister’s quiche - which as anyone who has tasted my sister’s quiche will tell you is impossible.
The salads are gorgeous too - and believe me, I hate most salads.
I’ve never had enough room left to try the sweets, which is probably just as well. And it’s also probably just as well I don’t live above the shop - I’d be the size of a hippo.
Thank you for making my sojourn in Clapham so enjoyable.
P.S. the staff are delightful and the atmosphere is charming too. I can’t believe someone actually gave this darling little jewel a one star review because the staff didn’t know enough about their gluten content. It just goes to show that there is no pleasing some people, and there is a bottomless well of meanness in some people’s hearts.
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