One of my favorite local motorcycle rides is a loop through Leonard, Stone Bluff and Haskell, Oklahoma. On occasion I have stopped at a small store to gas up or grab a snack. There is a clear display case on the counter filled with fried pies in various flavors.
Who doesn’t like a homemade fried pie?
Over the years I have bought a few of these fried pies. Usually apricot. I enjoy them while watching the small town traffic roll by. The sugar high is also helpful for keeping my attention on the road while riding.
Now I had always assumed these fried pies were homemade. A few months ago I stopped for gas and went inside. I grinned as I watched the clerk carefully unwrapping fried pies and filling the pie display. The box of “homemade” fried pies were actually a regional brand common in this part of the U.S.
I leaned over the counter and asked, “So you unwrap those for the display?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “My boss thinks they sell better.”
“Hmmmm,” I nodded.
“I think it’s stupid.”
I chuckled, “Your boss sounds like a pretty smart guy to me.”
Sometimes we see what we want to see. There was no sign or claim that the pies were homemade, but that’s what I wanted them to be.
I’ve never bought another fried pie.
