the quest continues

lolo A. went to friday mass at baclaran church faithfully until the day he fell ill from leukemia and was taken from us. he was not a devout catholic but he had made a pledge to his mother on her deathbed. he was a man of rituals and habits in every other way though...and one of the most endearing was the egg pie he would pick up for lola, sometimes just a slice, once in a while a whole box. for one so eccentric and dreamy, often absent minded, she worried how he would make it back home without falling asleep on the jeep; one time his wallet was stolen and he walked home, all the way to kamuning...but there was always the egg pie.
he must have had a standing account at that bakeshop. my lola never ate the pie (she was already watching her sugar intake). but lucky the grandchild who found it in the fridge. more often than not...me.
i've been trying to make this pie to duplicate this precious taste memory, and this is very close but...still not quite it. this one is very similar in taste and texture to "don taht," the mini custards served in dimsum houses...lolo's egg pie was firmer, yellower, with a distinctive brown top.

"old fashioned english custard tart" recipe from Delia Smith's "How to Cook." (the brown specks, freshly grated nutmeg). my favorite taste testers pronounced it good...back to the drawing board for me.
here's
the recipe...