Well hello there, and pull up a stool! We're Peg and Lou Barstow, retired (Lou from the post office, Peg from the school cafeteria, so between us we know something about coffee and something about feeding people). When Lou retired in 1997 we made ourselves a promise: no interstates, no chain restaurants, and no hurry. Two years and about eleven thousand miles later we have eaten pie in six states and we have Opinions.

This page is where we keep track. Our daughter Karen set the computer up for us and showed Peg how to type these in, so if the page looks a little homemade, that's because it is. Lou does the coffee ratings and the driving. Peg does the pie and the typing. We both do the "hon" rating, because Lou gets called "hon" more than Peg does, which Peg says is a scandal.

Every diner on this page is a real place we sat down in, a real town with a real grain elevator, and we paid for every slice ourselves. Nobody has ever comped us anything, although one waitress in Iowa did give Lou an extra scoop and he has never forgotten her.

Three things, one to five each. Fifteen is perfect and nobody has gotten fifteen yet, though the Pella place came within a whisker.

April: Iowa loop. Winterset, Pella, Decorah and back. Pella was tulip time and also, it turned out, Dutch letter time. Four diners, one bakery that doesn't count but we're counting it anyway.

June: Wisconsin and the U.P. Baraboo, Reedsburg, up to Minocqua and across to Escanaba, Michigan. Pasties in the U.P. instead of pie for two days and Peg was very patient about it.

August: Nebraska and Kansas. Wahoo, Seward, down to Abilene and Ottawa. Hot as blazes, and Lou says the coffee out there is the strongest on the map, possibly because the farmers are up at four.

September (just back!): Down through Illinois and Missouri, Litchfield to Lebanon and over to Rolla, chasing the old Route 66. Six diners in five days, and Lou had to let his belt out. Full write-ups below, and the new ones have a on them.

Coming up: Indiana in October, if the leaves cooperate. Nappanee and Shipshewana have been recommended to us three separate times by three separate strangers, which is how you know.

Newest first. We list the town so you can find it, but we don't list the street because if you're in a town that size you can find the diner: look for the pickups.

The Bluebird Cafe, Rolla, Missouri — Pie 5 • Coffee 4 • Hon 5 = 14
Peg here. Gooseberry pie. GOOSEBERRY. I have not had gooseberry pie since my mother's kitchen in 1954, and this one was tart enough to make your ears ring, with a lattice top, and warm. Lou's coffee was "fine, hot, a little thin" but the waitress called him "young man," which at seventy-one is worth a bonus point. A bulletin board with a lost beagle. We hope they found him.

Route 66 Grill, Lebanon, Missouri — Pie 3 • Coffee 5 • Hon 3 = 11
Lou here. Best coffee of the trip, bar none. Thick mug, fresh pot, and the girl carried two pots. Peg says the coconut cream was "from a box, but a good box." Lots of Route 66 signs on the wall, some of them real. The cook waved.

Nadine's Kitchen, Litchfield, Illinois — Pie 4 • Coffee 4 • Hon 5 = 13
Peg. Sour cream raisin pie, which if you are not from around here is a thing and a wonderful thing. Nadine herself came out and asked if the crust was all right. The crust was all right. Two farmers at the counter argued about the Cardinals the whole time and included Lou in it without asking whether he wanted to be included.

The Cornhusker Cafe, Wahoo, Nebraska (August) — Pie 4 • Coffee 5 • Hon 4 = 13
Lou. I will say only that when I asked for a refill the waitress said "Hon, I was already on my way," and she was. Peg had rhubarb custard and said it was "honest." A photo of the 1962 state champion football team over the register.

Dot's Diner, Ottawa, Kansas (August) — Pie 2 • Coffee 3 • Hon 5 = 10
Peg. The pie was a disappointment (chess pie, sugary, store crust) but I am giving Dot's full marks on hospitality because when Lou left his reading glasses on the counter a gentleman in overalls drove after us for four miles to give them back. That's Kansas.

The Windmill Cafe, Pella, Iowa (April) — Pie 5 • Coffee 4 • Hon 5 = 14
Peg. Dutch apple with a crumb top and a slab of cheddar on the side without our asking. Best crust of the year so far — lard, Peg would bet the farm on it. Lou got called "dear" by two different waitresses. The regulars at the round table asked where we were from and then told us where to go next (Decorah, and they were right).

Bridges Cafe, Winterset, Iowa (April) — Pie 3 • Coffee 4 • Hon 4 = 11
Lou. A good, plain place. Cherry pie, respectable. Coffee hot and constant. Everybody was talking about the covered bridges and the movie, which Peg liked and I fell asleep in.

Circus City Diner, Baraboo, Wisconsin (June) — Pie 4 • Coffee 3 • Hon 4 = 11
Peg. Banana cream with a real whipped cream top, not the kind from a tub. Coffee was a little tired (Lou: "it had been on the burner since the Eisenhower administration") but the waitress called us both hon in the same sentence, which we had not seen before.

The Northwoods Griddle, Minocqua, Wisconsin (June) — Pie 3 • Coffee 4 • Hon 3 = 10
Lou. A fishing crowd, up early. Blueberry pie from local berries, Peg says, but a thick crust. Good coffee, big mugs. Nobody called anybody hon; it's a quieter kind of place up there. The lake out the window makes up for a lot.

The Elevator Cafe, Seward, Nebraska (August) — Pie 4 • Coffee 4 • Hon 4 = 12
Peg. Named for the grain elevator across the tracks. Peach pie in August is the right answer and this was the right answer. The special was hot beef with mashed potatoes and Lou had it at ten in the morning, which the waitress did not bat an eye at. She said "you bet, hon."

We have a notebook with about thirty more from 1997 and 1998 and Peg is typing them in a few at a time. Be patient with us.

Five forks only. A pie gets in here if Peg would drive back for it, and Lou has been made to drive back for two of them.

1. Gooseberry, The Bluebird Cafe, Rolla, Missouri. The one that made Peg cry a little. Lattice top. Warm.
2. Dutch apple with cheddar, The Windmill Cafe, Pella, Iowa. That crust.
3. Sour cream raisin, Nadine's Kitchen, Litchfield, Illinois. Nadine, if you're reading this, we're coming back in the spring.
4. Butterscotch, The Depot Cafe, Nappanee, Indiana (from 1998; write-up coming). A meringue you could stand a fork in.
5. Strawberry-rhubarb, The Corner Cafe, Decorah, Iowa (1998). The pie the Pella regulars sent us to. They knew.

Honorable mention to every peach pie we ate in August, and a stern look at every "pie" that came out of a freezer box with the ridged edge still on it. We know. We always know.

You don't hear it as much as you used to, but in the good places the waitress still hollers the order back to the cook in the old language, and it's worth knowing so you can grin at the right moment. Here's what we've collected off the counter:

1. Sit at the counter. That's where the talk is, where the coffee comes fastest, and where you can see the pie case. A booth is for people who want to be left alone, and why would you drive to a small town to be left alone?
2. Count the pickups. Six or more at seven in the morning and you're in the right place. If the lot is full of out-of-state plates, it's been "discovered" and the pie has probably gone downhill.
3. Order what the sheriff's deputy orders. He eats there every day. He knows.
4. Ask what pie they made this morning. Not "what pie do you have." The answer to the first question is the pie you want.
5. Get there before eleven. The good pie is gone by one o'clock in any town worth stopping in.
6. Read the bulletin board. It's the town newspaper. We have learned about church suppers, a tractor pull, and where to buy sweet corn that way.
7. Tip like you mean it. These ladies work hard, the coffee is seventy-five cents, and a good tip is the difference between being a stranger and being remembered next year.
8. Write it down before you get back in the car. Peg keeps the notebook in her purse. If you wait until the motel you'll have forgotten which town had the gooseberry.