Lillian Lovich made a tray of miniature Hubig’s pies for an art gallery opening reception last weekend. Each one was a little more than an inch long and sleeved in a tiny wax paper bag, just like the real thing. The label was authentic, except it read “(not) Hubig’s,” with the word “not” in itty bitty letters.
Lovich lined up the Lilliputian pies in a small cardboard box, the way you find Hubig’s pies at the corner store or gas station. At first, you might have thought the little pastries were made of papier-mâché or plastic sculpting clay or some such thing.
But no, they were real pies, filled with real fruit filling. According to the hand-lettered sign on Lovich’s display, they’d been baked earlier in the day. You could tear them out of their package and eat them right there.
They were pretty good, too.
The concept was adorable and also brilliant. They were like the New Orleans version of Andy Warhol’s Campbell’s soup cans. Totally familiar, totally comforting and totally unexpected in an art gallery setting.
Though the Hubig’s pie logo, the pie man Savory Simon, was actually right at home at the NOLA ‘Nacular Studio and Gallery, a funky little showplace on lower Magazine Street that’s devoted to New Orleans neighborhood architecture and signage. NOLA ‘Nacular specializes in old-timey, hand-painted po-boy shop signs, photos of houses covered in cat’s claw vine, balsa wood models of streetcars, graffiti and that sort of stuff.
The reason Lovich made the counterfeit Hubig’s pies so small was that last weekend’s exhibit was a group show of miniature artworks, many no bigger than a pack of cards. She thought the refreshments ought to be tiny, too.
She said she doesn’t really consider herself an artist. But that’s not exactly true. Lovich usually creates small fabric prints that feature moths and dragonflies rendered in all-natural inks made from oak galls and bug exoskeletons.
She’s a native New Orleanian who studied at NOCCA back when it was on State Street. After high school, she left art behind for a while, studying philosophy and logic instead, at UNO, then the University of Wisconsin, then Carnegie Mellon.
She was embarking on her Ph.D. in embedded cognition when a professor suggested she get into web design. Fast forward a few years, and we find Lovich in Paris, producing a website that helped tourists visit the City of Lights while producing the minimum carbon footprint. While in Paris, she was inspired by a woman who made the most interesting fruit preserves.
Which brings us back to Lovich’s replica Hubig’s pies, which didn’t contain the usual apple, lemon or chocolate filling. They were stuffed with an apple, plum, and star anise compote, applied to the tiny pastry clamshells with a demitasse spoon before baking, Lovich explained.
Lovich said she’d been looking for ideas for some sort of miniature food to serve at the gallery when she found a recipe for mini replica Pop-Tarts. She reinterpreted the recipe in New Orleans' vernacular style.
The little pies were so on-brand, in fact, that, as Lovich put it, they seemed a little “snarky, sarcastic, and absurdist.” Which certainly would have made Warhol nod and wink with approval. They sold for five bucks each, which is twice as much as the real ones.
Crescent Cityites began consuming real, full-sized Hubig's pies about a century ago. The bakery burned down in 2012, but made a celebrated comeback last year. Lovich said she’s not sure how the folks at Hubig’s would react to her small-scale fakery, but she assures Mr. Simon and all involved that she does not plan to make any more “(not) Hubig’s Pies” in the future.
Lovich's pies are stale by now, but you might still be able to see some at the marvelous NOLA ‘Nacular Gallery at 1172 Magazine Street, from noon to 5 p.m. on Mon, Thurs, Sat and Sun.