Paiku Credit: Cameron Browne
Paiku
Paiku Cameron Browne

What do you think of when you hear this question: “Do you want to get some pie?”

Bourbon pecan, lemon meringue, mom’s apple? Pepperoni, margherita, supreme? Or do you get that heady, room-filling, buttery-crust-baking, potato-and-stew-meat aroma of a savory meat pie? Whether it’s a frozen chicken pot pie, a crusty handheld pasty, or a deep-dish cottage pie—I don’t have time for sweets or pizza when I’ve got pie to eat.

One purveyor of such a pie is Paiku, a longtime staple at the food cart pod and beer porch next to Kruger’s Farm Market on North Lombard, which earlier this year started pumping out pies from a brick-and-mortar shop in downtown St. Johns.

Paiku specializes in meat dishes ranging from pot pie to cottage, as well as sandwiches and salads, charcuterie boards, pancakes, omelets, and… okay, you get the picture, they’re doing too much. Yet some of the sneakier highlights are slightly off the beaten path: a surprisingly bright, tomatillo-y wild boar chili ($4 for a cup, $2 to sub it in for a salad on a dinner plate), and slow-cooked venison in either a cottage pie or sandwich (each $11).

Yes, 14-hour days are awfully ambitious. And no, Paiku’s not balancing all those things perfectly. Limited beer and unbalanced, oversweet cocktails mean it’s not a happy hour spot, and the breakfast menu just isn’t as compelling as lunch and dinner.

They’re at their best with (surprise) pie, including a very classic slice of chicken pot pie—chicken and veggies in a rich thyme gravy—and a rotating list of dessert options, all framed by a consistently impressive crust: perfectly flaky and never dried out or soggy. (This baking mastery is also apparent in the best part of the breakfast menu: the biscuits, which alone are worth the morning visit.)

Thomas Ross writes about art and booze, and edits fiction, nonfiction, and poetry for Tin House.