Eat. Pie. Love.

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The other day we drove almost 2 hours to look at a used pool table. It was a piece of junk and we had to drive almost 2 hours back. Funny how that works. So when I saw a sign that said Pies! Pies! Pies! I knew we had to stop.

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At an adorable little store on a lovely 40 acre farm.

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Yes, a mother and her 15 year old home schooled daughter run the entire farm by themselves. Please note all work is done by horse and ox. Maine women are nothing if not capable.

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The store was filled with the fruits of their labor. Jams, jellies, relishes, honey, pies, wool, dried flowers, wreaths, maple syrup, soap… and yes. Everything was made by their own hands.

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And this wasn’t some run down ramshackle operation. It was lovely, well kept and clean.

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When my husband opened the upright freezer and saw it was packed with pot pies, quiches, turkey soup, mushroom ravioli, pesto, and minestrone he asked the girl when they found time to sleep.

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Jam came home with us. As did some soap, some soup and of course…..

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Pie.

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Which instead of a traditional crust had a marvelously buttery and flaky rolled pastry foundation.

Pie.

It’s what’s for dinner.

And maybe breakfast.

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40 thoughts on “Eat. Pie. Love.”

  1. Such unexpected finds make a four hour drive successful.
    By coincidence we just walked in the door having stopped at a place called Just Pies we had heard about; there was a long line out the door, but fortunately it is only 20 minutes away, so we will go back.

    Liked by 1 person

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