This 1950s-style Solano Avenue stalwart — perhaps the Bakesale Betty of its day? — does pies like the aromatic, piping-hot ones that came out of your grandmother's kitchen. That means these culinary creations, made without transfat, are not perfect works of art to be cloned for mass production. Instead, they are lumpy, bumpy, imperfect creations that bespeak messy homemade goodness. In other words, pie-making at its finest. They come in practically every fruit or cream combination imaginable, from apple, apricot, rhubarb, and strawberry rhubarb to coconut, chocolate, amaretto, and banana cream. The crusts are flaky, and the filling firm enough to stand up to a fork. When the waitress asks if you want your slice with whipped cream, say yes, and she'll deliver a large enough dollop of the creamy house-whipped stuff to last from first bite to last. Lemon chiffon, pumpkin, and pecan, even chocolate pecan, have been making their way onto locals' holiday spreads since the '60s.