What would you do for a Hubig’s Pie


I can feel the texture of the flaky sugary crusted pie crust break off onto my tongue, then that delicious sweet filling gushing onto it, ooooh the textures and flavors, my palate is going off sending signals of delicious delight to my brain and I have no where to go buy a damn Hubig Pie!!!

I’m on the verge of eating my screen looking at these pictures! Why hasn’t some genius invented the Jetson cartoon like technology, because how is that a picture of this pie looks so real. I should be able to touch and taste it for how much I paid for the damn phone. The nerve of y’all, it’s like 2017, I should not only be able to eat my phone, but have it cook me dinner as well…Catch up and while you’re at that help them out with opening the Hubig’s Pie Bakery.. Like OMG!

I need a Hubig Pie, one lil corner piece will do. I’ll even eat the kind I don’t like!

An Apple or Pineapple Hubig’s Pie would be one of the best gifts I could get right now.

I know y’all NOLA Natives under stand my craving, my desires, my pain just for a lil corner piece of a Hubig’s Pie…..

Why are y’all taking so long to open up a building? It’s not like the title didn’t come with the recipe? I really hope the old owners aren’t being greedy and not giving up the recipe?? I’m pretty sure it was sold for millions of dollars.. These wealthy businessmen better not be sacrificing the history and taste of New Orleans cuisine over a few dollars…? I believe that’s the only plausible reason to not have a business open, it’s not like they will have trouble finding workers….
I’ll work part-time for the with the company for some pies…. What would you do for Hubig’s Pie?

Please bring back the pies….

Y’all feel free to read the article below written on Nola.com and Wikipedia, neither one mentions or have any knowledge as to when Hubig’s Pie will reopen. I thought it was best to share the history with those who can’t under stand why it’s hard for me to write about Hubig’s Pies myself, because all you will get from me is, ” I want a Hubig’s Pie!”




A native of New Orleans, who left her beloved New Orleans to spend twenty years of living in the land of Minnesota Not So Nice. Minnesota was full of opportunities but would learn that the soul of the state and the people who made it was just as icy cold as the temperatures. After the years and my 40th birthday flew by, I decided it was time to pack up my youngest child and come back to my roots, my birthplace the city that not only birthed me but gave me life. I would not be who I am without my New Orleans beginnings. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans. I was a 16yr old teen mother of a premature baby born with a severe medical disability. And only With the help of my mother, was it possible for me to BE! I was able to endure and survive the obstacles laid before my child and me. In a city that was built by my family, but did not allow for us to reap the benefits I overcame. Charity Hospital was my second home — a building filled with miracle workers who made it possible for my daughter to have life. I have lived a life of rainy days with peeks of sunshine, that are my children, including those not of my womb. I'm the proud mother of three and a grandmother of three. My dream was to live the life of the nursery rhyme of ”The Old Lady Who lived in a shoe,” and for the most part, I did. I cared for several children over the years as a special needs foster parent. I would learn that my love was not enough for some children, but I loved them through their pain. I'm not sure if I ever had a case of true love or came close to what love looks like on television, but I had my share of men and the mirage of love. I survived two abusive marriages. Though I longed to return to New Orleans on a daily bases, I must admit my move was one of the best decisions made for me. I am a college graduate; I was a successful entrepreneur. I coowned a soul food restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I developed the talent of creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul. He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute. But with the challenge of creating a simple wedding cake, I was able to find healing. I created the House of Cakes in honor of him. Minnesota life had me pretty materialistic. I worked to the point I do not remember much, but work and handing my children love money. I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, the ultimate provider and being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me of what I was told was a generational curse of lack of everything from money, love to even self-love. But for the most part, that life poisoned my heart and soul. I was blinded by visions fed to me by the media. I was told I wasn't anything unless I was better than the Jones's. I lived being ok with a broken, bleeding heart. Life like this did not exist in my family while living in New Orleans from what I viewed with my eyes and soul. We may not have had all the things I acquired over the years, but we were happy, we were together. Family outside of New Orleans wasn't family anymore. We lived separate lives and had awkward moments when we bumped into each other in public. I hated living in Minnesota even though life their helped me in so many ways. I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home, myself, my New Orleans. I'm here, and I love it. Even being in the so-called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy. I am determined that She, yes, New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together, we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up!. I just know in my heart that New Orleans will provide for me. There's a bank account with funds in it owed to me by way of back pay for my ancestors. And I will receive my inheritance, and I will continue the traditions and customs of the old to keep the heartbeat of New Orleans beating. I'm down in the boot, living the life that feels right to me awaiting my destiny...

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