Hong Kong ‘egg’ tarts

There was an egg tart shop right across the ribbon of road from my bus stop. I would sit there, slouched after a long day at school, and jump up when the glorious scent of baking pastry wafted over on the warm afternoon breeze. Then came the eternal debate: would I have the time to dash across the street to buy one and still catch my bus? Layers of flaky, buttery pastry encased a custard just set enough not to flow out of the tart as you bit into it, but still yielding and velvety. These we