WHEN LENT was nearly over and it was time to begin our journey to Louisiana’s Pie Day, we rounded up our boys and shooed them into the back of the van. It had been outfitted with an old mattress, blankets, pillows, crayons and cookies. Then, leaving Minnesota, we headed out for pie.
Who, but a Frenchman with Louisiana ties, would haul five children and an Irish wife 2,400 miles, round-trip, for pie? But it was not just any pie. It was Louisiana Sweet Dough Pie, and it is served only once a year—on Good Friday.
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