Wesley Hamilton
After a rather vanilla childhood in the suburbs of southern California, I fell in love with a Wisconsin girl. Her family roots are in southwestern Wisconsin, the Driftless Area, where her ancestors immigrated to from Cornwall to dig lead and raise cattle. From the first time I drove through Green, Iowa, Grant, Lafayette and Vernon Counties, I was smitten. After 33 years, two kids and three dogs, this is my home.
Because I grew up without much of a sense of place, I found myself fascinated with the personalities of each town I would visit. What I learned quickly is that the Cornish, the Germans and the Scandinavians were all excellent bakers and I love baked goods. Specifically, I love pie.
So what better thing to do on a lazy Monday than drive through southern Wisconsin, stopping at local cafes and diners to get a piece of pie? I already had a handful of favorites, and my friends suggested a few more.
I have a full tank of gas and loose-fitting pants. Co-pilot navigates and promises to assist me in the sampling. Magnanimous, my co-pilot.
Darren Bush
M&M Cafe’s house special is Amish pie, simple but oh-so-rich.
I first found Monticello’s M&M Cafe 15 years ago, just as staff was closing up for the day. There were two pieces of banana cream left, so I took both of them: one for immediate consumption, one for later. This was an astonishingly good banana cream, one of the best I ever had. It was full of bananas held together with a thick, eggy custard, topped with whipped cream.
Over the counter was a sign that said “For Sale.” The owners were tired and ready for a break, but had a hard time finding a buyer. I hoped they would. They stayed and chatted with me 20 minutes after closing. I bought an M&M mug and bid them farewell.
The good news is that Jim Schubert took over the operation of this 1930s-style diner, so the pie continues.
We stop in early this Monday morning and meet Jim, owner and cook. He knows each customer by name and is already busy at the grill. I tell him I need breakfast, but pie is the priority.
Amish cream pie is the specialty. Amish cream is a simple recipe: cream or half and half, sugar and cornstarch. It’s simple, but it’s not easy. This one has a lovely, rich custard. The crust is underbaked, though. I also try a slice of chocolate raspberry; the crust is better.
We need to come back another day and give the M&M another round of sampling.
The next stop is 65 miles west at Friederick’s Family Restaurant in Fennimore. The parking lot is packed with Buick Regals, except for one spot left for us. Several tables of blue-haired ladies are enjoying animated conversations. We sit at the counter and are brought menus, which we decline. “We’re here for pie.”
Friederick’s has been around for years but has been under new ownership for the past two. Baker and co-owner Sarah Fischer has 15 years of restaurant management experience, and she was friends with the Friederick family. “Sue Friederick and I used to joke about me buying them someday,” says Fischer. “I always loved to cook, so we made the deal.”
As at many small-town family restaurants, the daily pie specials are listed on a dry-erase board and removed as they sell out. There are already a few blank spaces, so pie is a seller here.
We order a banana cream as a benchmark, then ask our waitress for suggestions. “Oh, ya gotta try the apple,” she says. Co-pilot and I give each other the side-eye. In our experience, restaurant apple pie is often lacking.
The banana cream is tasty, but nothing mild-blowing, sweet and not heavy on bananas. Then the apple shows up. It’s warm and smells wonderful; not of cinnamon, but nutmeg. The apples are cooked perfectly, the topping crumbly and not too sweet, and the crust is perfectly flaky. I call back to the kitchen: “Lard crust, right?”
“Yup, it’s lard.” I knew it. The best restaurant apple pie I have ever eaten. We get the bill: $6.31 for two pieces of pie and a nice conversation. It’s time to move on.
Twenty-four miles northeast of Fennimore is Vicki’s Cozy Cafe in Muscoda. Funky pink tile and green Formica countertops enliven the dining room where there’s more counter seats than tables. We join a crowd of construction workers and farm hands in brandless hoodies and ask for the house specialties; our waitress reels off a few options. We choose the coconut caramel pecan and the strawberry cream cheese.
Both pies have graham cracker crusts, but well done and not overly crumbly. The caramel coconut pecan has a lovely texture, with well-toasted coconut and pecans. It’s too sweet for me, but I appreciate it in the abstract. I know people who would like this.
The strawberry cream tastes like real strawberries. We talk to owner Vicki Sander, who reveals the secret: “Oh, that’s Gramma Sandy’s homemade strawberry freezer jelly.” Apparently Gramma Sandy comes in to bake the strawberry pies, and brings her own stash of the good stuff.
We learn the history of Vicki’s. Before it was Vicki’s, it was Mary’s. Before Mary’s it was Lila’s and before that it was Miller’s Cafe. Our waitress, Di, at the cafe since 1991, has worked at all the iterations. “She’s like family,” says Vicki. “I don’t know what we’d do without her.”
Darren Bush
Borgen’s Cafe shows no restraint with the meringue that tops this lemon pie.
From Muscoda we head north-west up the Kickapoo Valley on my favorite highway in the world, Highway 131. We pass through blossoming apple trees that will no doubt provide us with apples this fall. The restaurant we want to hit, the Driftless Cafe, is closed, so we head for Borgen’s in Westby, 11 miles farther north. Settled by Norwegians, Westby appears to have more Norwegian flags per capita than Oslo. Welkommen til Westby.
Borgen’s Cafe is a typical small-town cafe, right on the main drag. As we enter I look toward the kitchen and see a huge, round refrigerated case, rotating shelves slowly exposing huge wedges of pie.
We’re speeding down Pie Highway with the cruise control set to gluttony anyway, so we order three: double crust apple, lemon meringue and raisin sour cream. The apple is perfectly cooked, the crust falling-apart flaky, the spices subtle and balanced. Co-pilot says it’s the best double crust pie she’s ever had. High praise indeed.
The lemon meringue is almost comical. It might better be called meringue lemon. It’s six inches tall, with five inches of white, fluffy meringue that’s not too sweet (a common meringue faux pas) and perfectly golden on top.
The raisin sour cream is decadent. The custard is sweet and almost too rich; the plump raisins are huge and juicy and add a lovely wine-y flavor. I ask our waitress how many egg yolks go into this custard. Without blinking she replies “six.” I suddenly understand why the meringues are so bountiful; those whites have to go somewhere.
Co-pilot thinks it’s too sweet and rich, but I remind her that we’re on the back end of 11 pieces of pie, and anything that isn’t made of kale would probably seem too rich.
I ask if we can talk to the baker and is told that Deb comes in to bake at 3:30 a.m. and goes home at 10 a.m. That’s why the pie is so good; it’s made daily. We box up the rest of our spoils and bounce ourselves to the truck.
266 miles. Eleven pieces of pie. Our verdict? We could do this four or five times and not even make a dent in the pie population of southwestern Wisconsin. There are dozens of small cafes with pie that need discovery. The good news is we’re up to the task.
M & M Café
126. S. Main St., Monticello; 608-938-4890
Friederick’s Family Restaurant
430 Lincoln Ave., Fennimore; 608-822-7070
Vicki’s Cozy Café
132 Iowa St., Muscoda; 608-739-9004
Borgen’s Café
109 S. Main St., Westby; 608-634-4003; borgenscafe.com
