Small Towns, Big Dreams

more from deary…

Last week, I showed you how we discovered and restored a forgotten pioneer’s cabin into a family retreat.

Today, I want to tell you about our first big project in Deary, Idaho: turning a crumbling Ford garage (filled with rusting old cars) into an artisan bakery & creamery that put our tiny town on the map.

forged in the fire

Back in 1923, the small logging town of Deary burned to the ground. Three years later, the residents rebuilt—this time in brick.

The crown jewel? A 7,000 sq-ft Ford garage. It thrived for decades… until it didn’t. By 2009, when our family moved to the area, we found it on the verge of collapse, stuffed with dozens of rusting cars after decades of neglect.

But we had a dream for what it could become. If the building was to be saved, it was now or never.

patience pays

There was just one problem: the owner, a long-time local, said he’d never sell. The building had become his “parking garage” for dozens of rusting old cars.

So we waited.

Years passed. We tried our best to be good neighbors, lent a hand when we could, and kept the dream alive to ourselves.

Then one day, the call came. He was ready.

As part of the deal, we built a metal shop on his farm and moved all those old cars to their new home. Everyone won.

Now it was time to get to work.

a time to save

First things first. We reinforced the entire structure with new concrete footers, steel beams, and posts to support the sagging trusses. Then we poured a new slab over the dirt floor and ran new mechanical, electrical, and plumbing.

The ceiling in the front (showroom) part of the building was made from 100-year-old sheets of pressed tin. With love and a lot of finesse, we patched it up, sealed the gaps, and brought back its former glory with fresh white paint.

At the heart of the building stood a brick safe room. A bit of creative brainstorming (and bricklaying) later, and voila—a wood-fired pizza oven.

We carved out a cozy dining room, a retail space, and a full commercial kitchen.

Meanwhile, the craft cheese business my mom and I had launched from our home kitchen a few years earlier was growing exponentially. The final third of the building became home to our artisan creamery (a whole story of its own I’ll save for another time).

Outside, we restored every brick, re-roofed, and landscaped—adding a beautiful entryway and patio.

Then my dad remembered something.

Back in Colorado, my grandpa had a ‘46 Ford panel truck that had been rusting away in a garage since the ‘80s when my dad left home as a young man.

My brothers hauled it to Idaho, and a local mechanic brought it back to life.

We painted The Pie Safe logo on one side and the Creamery logo on the other. To honor the building’s heritage, we parked it out front.

Just eight months after starting construction, we opened the doors.

and they’re coming

Everything at The Pie Safe is made from scratch, daily.

Fresh-picked Huckleberry ice cream, pies, pastries, sandwiches, and of course, signature wood-fired pizza.

This is a town of 550 folks, tucked away in the mountains, two hours from the nearest major city or interstate.

And yet every Saturday, there’s a line out the door.

“Build it (or in our case—save what’s almost past saving), and they’ll come.”

We did. And they’re coming.

more than a business or a building

Today, The Pie Safe is known far and wide. A couple of my siblings own and operate it, along with plenty of friends and family.

My older brother John, one of the owners, takes the entire crew (~20 folks) on special trips twice a year. Summer and winter. This is one example of how he treats the staff as genuine family—not just as a business cliche.

That kind of care trickles down. And it’s one reason why, despite the notoriously thin margins of the restaurant business, The Pie Safe has turned a good profit every single year since opening.

Care for your people, and they’ll care for your customers or guests.

reviving rural towns & buildings

Since The Pie Safe, we’ve restored Deary’s old train depot, opened an old-fashioned quilt shop, a farmstead butcher shop, and more.

We figured if folks were going to take time out of their busy lives to come visit us in the middle of nowhere, there ought to be an entire ecosystem to experience and enjoy.

When you come to Deary, you’re not just staying somewhere, eating good food, or visiting a cool restaurant. You’re stepping into a living story. A rural American town where life is slower, with a truer sense of community, and where beauty isn’t reserved for the wealthy.

How many other towns across America are waiting for someone to notice what’s special and still good and worth building on?

Experiential hospitality goes beyond lodging. It’s food, retail, events, culture—the full rhythm of how people spent their time—and where.

The gift room at The Pie Safe (everything made by hand by local artisans)

Breathing life back into forgotten places is one of the most rewarding ways to create authentic experiences and real community. And it's time to think bigger than just accommodations.

Why not a whole town?