If there's a more satisfying activity in the Twin Cities than ordering two slices of pie and sitting down along a window bench at Turtle Bread with a cup of coffee, we don't know what it is. Yeah, two slices. Want to make something of it? You try deciding between lemon chiffon, cherry, apple, raspberry, key lime, and whatever else is in there, say, pumpkin or pecan. Why do you think we slave so hard at the job, anyway? It's not for the company car. It's so we can pile slices of Turtle Bread pie around us like poker chips. At $3.50 a slice, we still call them bargains: flaky, sweet, buttery crusts on the fruit pies, loaded up with wholesome real fruit fillings; crumbly crusts with decadent fillings for the custards and creams and chiffons. One time a friend of ours took a couple of pies--typically $16 or $19 per--all the way to a Southern family reunion. Appalled and skeptical, the relatives put down their sweet tea and eyed the pies with concern. One bite, though, and they were raving. And, as the friend likes to explain, they didn't just go from 0 to 60 on pie enthusiasm, they went from negative 60 to 60. That's a lot further. Sure, money can't buy happiness, maybe not permanently, maybe not all day. But for a couple of minutes here and there, $3.50 sure can.