As a card-carrying sandwich fancier, there are few things make me quite as happy as being able to order the national sandwich of whatever country I happen to be in (except, maybe, that one time I accidentally ordered a roll filled with green entrails dipped in soup in Tuscany, but let's never speak of that again).

And in Portugal, there are three. Three! There's the bifana, a pork steak sauteed in garlic then stuffed into a roll, and the leitao assado – suckling pig, roasted until the skin is crisp and golden.

Today, though, at this newish Clovelly cafe with a distinctly Portuguese bent, we're talking about the prego – which means something like "nail" in English (the idea is it puts one in your appetite).

Here, they're busting theirs out on a firm, crusty roll which also has a minute steak sporting a sunnyside-up fried egg alongside a little jar of piquant house-made piri piri sauce to spice up at will. Oh, and a side of chips. Because no Portuguese meal would be complete without them.

This being the Eastern Beaches, though, means quinoa. I'm pretty sure it's illegal now to open a cafe without at least one type of ancient grain on offer. So here, you can tick that box pretty successfully with the quinoa and egg bowl mixing edamame, dried cranberries and a poached egg all together with – if you're game – a few rashers of crisp bacon. And actually, it's a pretty winning combination no matter what your persuasion.

In true Cloey style, well-groomed dogs and their well-groomed owners strut past the cafe, which juts out onto Clovelly Road, just down the road from the Frock Exchange (catnip for silvertails after mint condition vintage Marni, Stella and Saint Laurent).

Back this side of the credit card, the cafe's staffed by sweet young funsters in Daisy Dukes keen for you to have a nice time, whether that's keeping you caffeinated (they're using several types of single origin coffee here, including Single O for their milks) or bringing over another round of pasteis de nata.  

Meet the pastry borne of a revolution. After all of Portugal's convents and monasteries were shut down in 1834, the out-of-work clergy took to pastry to raise funds. The story goes, having a whole lot of yolks left over after using the egg whites to keep their habits in firm check, they started using the excess yolks to make the little custard tarts you can still buy today in Belem, sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar.        

So the version here isn't quite on par with pasteis de Belem, which really are 10 types of extraordinary, but they're still very, very good. Creamy custard, just set, is crusted in cinnamon and sugar, all resting in a light, flaky pastry cup with just the right amount of shortness. Viva a revolucao.

Bottom line Quinoa bowl ($18); Prego ($15); Portuguese custard tarts ($3.50)