The sign may say "hamburgers" but it's pretty clear,
upon walking into this place just outside Ft. Dodge, Iowa,
that the place is known for pie.
Everyone in the joint has a slice before them, and the pastry
cases are full with freshly baked specimens in glass pie pans.
Sour cream raisin with a meringue mountain topper for the
brave; cherry for the traditionalist; rhubarb for me.
Posting by cameraphone from the road back to Omaha.
2 comments:
Pie...I think of you when the subject turns to a lovely piece of pie.
I do love pie. :) I was thinking about you guys the other night -- particularly the night enyasi and I sniffed out that pie after the vagina monologues.
(eyeing the unknowing diner from across the street:)
"have you been there before? how do you know they have pie?"
"never. trust me. they have pie."
miss y'all. hope to get out that way to say hey soon.
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