The real house is an unassuming bungalow with a screened-in porch across the road from Crooked Lake. It began as a residence, was a deli, then an Italian restaurant, and now, it’s the House of Pies. The enterprise began almost two decades ago, with Cindy’s mother selling pies out of her antique shop. One day, she put up a sign for fresh rhubarb pie and sold 17 in one day. Since then, mother and daughter developed the business into a full-fledged bakery that sells between 100 and 150 pies per day in the summer, and about 400 over Thanksgiving. While her mother is now retired downstate, Cindy still keeps things running smoothly—though she assures me that everything has to be up to her mom’s standards, “or you’re gonna find out fast!”
“When people walk in the door they can’t believe how big it is,” says Cindy. It’s true. The door opens into a wide industrial kitchen with a wood-paneled sitting room where guests can enjoy a slice of pie with ice cream and a cup of coffee. In the corner of the kitchen, a tall wire rack is laden with pies fresh from the oven. Big plastic buckets full of fresh fruit sit on the countertops. Everywhere you look there’s a relic from a different decade.
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