Betty's Pies

In Duluth last weekend, Schleppy and I ate way too much at Fitger's pub. Wild rice burgers. Regular burgers. Dark Fitger's beer. Huge hills of homemade sweet potato fries that, I'm pretty sure, were fried along with some onion rings. (Can you say deeelicious?)

And then, 20 minutes later, while we ogled over the views on our drive to Lutsen, I slammed on the brakes. There, before us, appeared a beacon in our overstuffed haze.

Betty's Pies.

So, because neither of us will ever turn down a slice of pie, no matter how full we are, we stopped.

It was just what you'd imagine a little pie place located outside of Middle of Nowhere, Minnesota, would be.

Naturally, we had to order a big mug of coffee to go with our pie. And boy am I glad we did, because I discovered what may very well be Conservative Boy's Ultimate Mug. We're talking a big, hefty mug with a serious handle that you can get a good grip on. A mug I had to buy for the hubby as a souvenir.

Besides, how can anyone walk away from a mug that has a pie on it?

Once we took a few sips of piping hot coffee, the important part arrived: the pie. It was a tough decision, but I went with a piece of strawberry rhubarb (long since out of season down south) a la mode.

Schleppy opted for a concoction that involved about every type of fruit on the menu, with a crumb topping rather than the traditional crust.

Both were to-die-for. Both made us very miserable.

I very nearly had to unbutton my jeans on the rest of the ride. That's how full we were. But it was worth it.

(On a side note, we later learned that Betty's was not even the best pie place in the area. Can you believe this? If I had no shame and more time, I would have tried every pie place in that part of the state. Maybe next time ...)

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