Hoping for Hubig’s :: My Hand Pie Hail Mary

Picture it: South Louisiana, 2021. Mardi Gras has been canceled and an ice storm has settled over the land, a frosty wonder trapping all of us already po’ Louisiana drivers in our homes. WITH OUR KIDS AND TOO MUCH TIME ON OUR HANDS.

Everything was driving me crazy: the kids playing Throw Throw Burrito in the living room, the music coming from the Playstation while it updated, the fact that my house was still a disaster from my Valentine bake-a-thon the day before. And when I’m stressed, I resort to my three B’s. B*tching, Bleaching, or Baking. And since the last is likely the healthiest (mentally – definitely not calorically), ya girl went back into the kitchen.

The day before, I’d planned to make Nutella heart-shaped hand pies for my littlest Valentine, but discovered that 1) my plans were bigger than the hours in the day and b) the little sh*t had eaten all of the Nutella straight from the jar, so we were out. So were the hand pies.

But I had apples – and a hankering for an old-school Hubig’s apple pie.

If you grew up in Louisiana, you are likely intimately familiar with Hubig’s pies – those delectable, and probably artery-clogging, staples of the southern Louisiana grocery and gas station check out lane. In 2012, the Hubig’s factory burned to the ground, and though there have been murmurs of a miraculous comeback, there’s been nary a Hubig’s pie to be found since. Neither of my children had ever had one. And horror of horrors, my too-old-to-have-not husband hadn’t either. What the what?

My mission became clear. I was going to find a recipe and make the hell out of some knock-off Hubig pies. Because if we can’t have Mardi Gras, we were going to have a now-extinct pie, d*mn it. A couple of quick Google searches later, and I’d found what I thought would be the closest thing to the real deal. I used this filling recipe with a store-bought pie crust because I believe in that semi-homemade life, á la Sandra Lee, thank you very much (I may have even had COCKTAIL TIME). This was my hand pie Hail Mary pass, and I was hoping for Hubig’s goodness.

My youngest did not appreciate the smell of cooked apples, and I have to admit that I, myself, was a little worried before they were fried. The filling did not smell like what I remembered. *Cue mild panic*

Instead of frying them in oil, I lightly coated them in cooking spray and air fried those suckers for 10 minutes at 360°. And y’all. Y’ALL. When they were done … and glazed …

THEY WERE PERFECT. I was holding nostalgia in my hands. And I didn’t even care if the kids didn’t like them – BECAUSE MORE FOR ME.

And now I’m on a mission to make my mama’s favorite flavor – lemon. Here’s to another Hail Mary. And maybe a hand pie club…

What was YOUR favorite Hubig’s flavor?

Julie Lee
Julie is a mama, wife, teacher, writer, photographer, designer, and basket case—jack of all trades, master of none. She lives in Ascension Parish with her husband, her two hooligans, and her quarankitty, Stella. She’s an English teacher by day, and a lover of words by destiny. Her favorite word is schadenfreude. When she’s pretending she isn’t too busy to breathe, you can find her curled up in her hammock with a book.

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