A Slice of Pie Town

NEW MEXICO

At the very beginning of this trip, when I was still bright eyed and bushy tailed, before I fully grasped the realities of living on the road, I mapped out all kinds of roadside attractions and funnily named places, such as Truth or Consequences and Pie Town. I would drop pins all over the country on a whim and as a general reminder that should I find myself off the beaten path, these spots might be worth a look-see.

Well, life has a funny way of working out and while my original plan certainly didn’t have me fucking around the Gila Wilderness not one or two but three whole times in a circle, that’s exactly what ended up happening. So while I was out there oogling the sunset at the VLA, drinking beers in my bra, and sleeping under the night stars, I found myself on the road to this little town and the promise of mouth watering pie. I knew nothing about the place, or the pie, but I figured what’s the worst that could happen?

Getting There

U.S. Route 60 runs through some of New Mexico’s most underrated terrain, just north of the Gila National Forest, straight through Pie Town and the Continental Divide, bisecting the Very Large Array and its patchwork of railroad tracks, across Magdalena “ghost town” and Socorro, coursing east toward north Texas. Pie Town is really in the middle of nowhere with the closest major city being Albuquerque northeast at two and a half hours drive byway of Socorro or Grants. We happened upon it after staying the night in Datil and making our way back toward the 40, another two hour venture. No matter which way you cut it, Pie Town is at least 100 miles from anything but high plains and cattle guards.

The History

The name Pie Town comes from a general store owner by the name of Norman who sold pies to westbound travelers, most notably the “dried apple” pie. Decades later, the small town all but vanished, and Pie Town became simply a place on the map with a post office, a gas station, and a silly name. In the 90’s two women by the names of Kathy Knapp and Mary Munden ventured out to Pie Town, much as I did this day, in the hopes of trying some of this famous pie, only to be disappointed that Pie Town had pie no more. Heart sick at the idea of such a misleading name, the women reestablished the pie tradition by opening up the Pie-o-neer and while under new ownership as of 2020, this little cafe still pumps out some of the best damn pie I’ve ever had.

The Town

It’s not hard to figure out where to go once you get to Pie Town. The entirety of the town is located on the north side of the road and as you drive west from Datil, you’ll first see a house I can only describe as a makeshift redneck ranch, decorated with dilapidated big rigs, a rusted Chevy Bel Air decked in Christmas lights, and a Trump flag flapping furiously in the distance. After that is a container building with a simple sign that reads “Windmill Cowboy Church of Pie Town”. The remnants of an old mechanic’s shop and gas station share a property line with the Pie-o-neer Cafe. Past that is the post office, and then the Gatherin’ Place.

The Pie

There are two food establishments in this small town, and they’re not hard to find at no more than 500 yards from one another. The first place I stopped at was the Gatherin’ Place. As soon as I exited the truck, I was enveloped with the smell of sweet meat on the BBQ, which I believe was mostly likely pulled pork. I popped inside to check out the menu, which is written on the wall in chalk and noticed they also have an assortment of small pies for sale. However, I was on the hunt for the creme de la creme of Pie Town pies so I ventured down to the Pie-o-neer. To my great surprise, this little restaurant and pie house was everything I had expected in my mind when I thought of my ultimate pie experience. The outside is old and kitchy with antique Coca Cola signs hung from the fence. Well kempt and freshly painted, the decor is bright and welcoming and you can smell the sugar thick in the air before you exit the car door. I can honestly say I’ve never experienced a town that smelled so God damn good before.

Once inside, we were welcomed by a woman behind the counter. The decor was straight Americana with warm wood and cozy seating. At the back of the room is a breakfast bar lined with pies enclosed in glass. I didn’t get five seconds before making my selection, a 6” Thunder Berry Crumb. There was pecan, lemon merengue, and an assortment of other gooey deliciousness, but the triple berry reminded me of my favorite pie in the whole fucking world, the Mountainberry Crumble from Julian Pie Co. and so I felt like it was my civil duty to put this homemade imposter to the ultimate taste test. I settled outside on a wooden bench with a plastic spoon and went to town.

My expectation before getting there was that the novelty of Pie Town was all in the name and the worst that could happen was that I’d have a shitty slice of pie (as shitty as pie gets because, well, it’s still pie) and a little yarn to weave for my friends back home. Instead I found myself on a shaded porch in the Gila Mountains during a spring storm, shoveling tart blackberries and soft graham cracker crumble into my mouth, thinking the only thing in the world that would make this experience better might be a scoop of French Vanilla ice cream. I don’t know if it was the very best pie I’ve ever had, and believe me when I tell you I’ve had my fair share, but it was damn good. It was a local pie baked by a local person and baked with love. It wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t commercialized. It was everything a roadside cafe that specializes in pies should be and that was simple and downright delicious.

Afterthoughts

It was the perfect end to my last day in New Mexico, sitting in the middle of nowhere sharing this unexpectedly delicious treat with my new favorite person and reminiscing bittersweetly on this whirlwind adventure coming to a close. I can’t pinpoint exactly what it was or if it was just a little bit of right in every way, but that particular pie on that uneventful afternoon ended up being one of my most special and favorite moments from my entire trip, sans the ice cream scoop, but I’ll let that slide.

If you find yourself in the southwest sometime and feel like going on an adventure, follow the 60 out to Pie Town and see for yourself what a little slice of American history tastes like.

xoxo, The Bitter Bitch