I love butter tarts. What's not to love? Oooey-gooey, sticky goodness, with a flaky buttery shell and crunchy maple pecans (apologies to all the butter tart purists reading this). To me, butter tarts are perfect. But I'll only indulge on certain occasions. Like when it's been a particularly stressful day (rarely do I crave a butter tart on a good day).
There's something about a butter tart that demands my full attention. Maybe it's because the flaky crust will break apart and leave a long trail of crumbs, or the sticky filling will drip onto my shirt as I take that first bite. A butter tart is so rich, so complex to make and so difficult to eat, that it needs time and respect to properly enjoy.
By focusing solely on the butter tart in front of me, any worries or stress are temporarily shelved. It gives me a few minutes to re-focus and re-group and hopefully, gain a different perspective on whatever is bothering me. Butter tarts are sweet, calming and comforting. Butter tarts help soothe the soul, or at the very least, this blogger's soul.
Did I have a butter tart today? Yes. Do I plan to have a butter tart tomorrow? Absolutely not.
Crema Coffee Co. at Yonge/Bloor serves a mean butter tart.
Butter tart rating: satisfaction level, 10; guilt level, 7. Okay...maybe the guilt level is closer to a 4.
