Long ago, the story is told of the ancient pie faerie, a magic creature that would come riding out of the early morning mists astride a beautiful Palamino and would gift one fortunate individual with a delicious, aromatic pie; a feast that would turn the eater into a craven slave, unable to resist the power of the fabulous treat. Ever after, the pie eater would slavishly order more and more and more pies, until all the world was full of fresh pie. And that made the pie faerie very happy.

Pecans, peaches, perfect crust in a mini pie just right for wolfing down alone!!! Or for sharing................ (just kidding)

"Did you bring the pump?" used to refer to a type of gun; The sweet and robust princess in her pink "riding habit" has saved many a pie starved traveler from extinction with a flick of the quirt and a wave of the wrist; there it appears, the fabled "blubarb" pie...WHAT? rhubarb and blue berries from the very ranch the pie faerie lives on. Anyway, a very top secret pie crust from the Italian and possibly Grecian ancestral recipe archive is the BIG DEAL in these hand made, in-demand treats. Home grown fruits are lavishly baked in, for an utterly "out-of-body" experience.

Nothin could be finer than a pie under the desert sky. I can smell it from here. Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!

Lots of pie love in the world. Go to Emmett and find your pie. Hurry, the season is almost over. Please tell Suzanne we need more pie at the Siskiyou News Network where we donate one slice to global warming research every other pie.

Eldest grand-daughter, nicknamed Turtle, gets a pie dough lesson.

What is not good news for the everyday SISKIYOU NEWS NETWORK reader who does NOT live near Starr, Idaho, there is almost no chance you will get to taste one of Suzanne's marvelous pies. BUT, however, there is always EMMETT, Idaho, where the world meets in front of her booth. For pie. Better hurry...the season is almost over and you will want to get on the regular customer list before the first snow fall.

The real story from Suzanne Canova....My mother warned me that I would be an old maid if I didn't learn to cook. She was the child of Greek immigrants and she cooked with the old world flair. She made many attempts to get my attention in the kitchen with her lamb roasts, sauces and variety salads, but only one item stuck. Her pies. She rolled out the firm white crust and slapped it over a mound of apples. "More cinnamon", she said, and heaped the flattened dough on top. Oh Lord, the smell of the apples baking roamed the house and forever shaped my delight for making pie.

Now she is long gone. Tragically killed in a plane crash at the age of 52, and I still have the image of her strong hands maneuvering the rolling pin. A mother can shape your life in so many ways, but it seems you have to live many decades before you realize just how many traits you have ingested and brought forth. Then it's okay and even funny. She was an opera singer, born in New York, and attended the Juilliard School of Music and sang in the church choir, sang for weddings and local musical productions. Her voice was her magical strength. A woman in her choir once told me, "When I sit next to Kay and hear her beautiful voice, I feel like I can sing." That lovely trait I did not inherit and I blame it on my Sicilian father who played the accordion and the honkey tonk piano. Can you imagine the conflicted message to my musical senses?

What did come through the gene pool is the pie making ability or "Pieability." For many gatherings I have prepared pies and the feedback always made me feel as though I had some special talent. A few months ago, I brought a pie into my work setting and my peers raved about the crust. Of course, I NEVER let my crust secrets just fly out, but the truth is, nothing compares to a crust made with BUTTER. It's the key ingredient and it chimes loudly in the human brain, setting off alarms of rapture! As I watched my friends and coworkers consuming peach pie, these words just came flowing out of my mouth: "I want to sell pies." One said she would order one immediately and then another joined in until I had several orders for the week.

It's now been three and a half months at this writing since the first peach pie in the break room. More than 200 pies have departed my kitchen and brought smiles and a few pounds to my friends and neighbors. One friend says I am his "crack dealer" with my banana cream pie because he HAS to order them (see...I TOLD you the pie faerie did that to people). This pie business has added a new skip to my step and I'm teaching my oldest granddaughter to make crust. It gives new meaning to a tree full of cherries...well you know what they mean to a good crust...

Maybe everyone has a secret artistic passion. It just hasn't occurred to them. Maybe secret passions have to be dragged out of the subconscious, but whatever it is, hunt for it. Life is better with passion.

If there could be a magical way to clean up the kitchen-this would be NIRVANA!

Behind every good pie chef there is a dog that tells them what to do. Dwhite shown here with Suzanne. She doesn't let him work the crust dough, though. He is strictly chicken herder and horse overseer.

And to Stella, the littlest pie fairie, we leave the final words: THE END.

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