A slice of salted honey pie with a flaky all-butter crust and a dusting of sea salt.

Journal

Lauretta Jean's: salted honey pie

Kate McMillen's Richmond pie shop. The honey custard is why the line exists.

Photo: PortlandBread

We are going to say this once, because PortlandBread readers will try to turn every shop into a loaf stop: Lauretta Jean’s is a PIE shop, and we are so here for it! We go for a slice. We go for a whole pie when we are feeding people. We do not go to evaluate the bread program, and once you see that case you will not want to either. The shop sits in Richmond, on the Division–Clinton side of southeast, behind a mint-green face and a striped awning that looks like it was waiting for you. Inside, the walls go robin’s-egg and mint, an orange banquette runs along one side like a little vintage diner that got really good at dessert, and citrus-patterned wallpaper pops behind the counter. Pendant lights warm up the wooden tables, the wood-and-glass case is loaded with all-butter crusts, and the whole room feels like your coolest friend’s kitchen if that friend happened to be a pie baker. We can also see the street through those big windows, which makes a rainy Portland afternoon feel EXTRA cozy when you are already holding a fork!

Kate McMillen started the business at the Portland Farmers Market after learning pie from her grandmother — the shop is named for her — and the brick-and-mortar has been a Richmond fixture since the early 2010s. The crust is all-butter, baked from scratch, and the fruit program leans on Oregon farms when the fruit is actually in season. That is how the case changes, and it is why we never assume last month’s board is still the board.

What we always order

A slice of pie. If you have never been, start with the salted honey — GET THE SALTED HONEY — because it is the famous one for a reason! The filling is a silky honey custard that sets just firm enough to slice, pale gold in the middle, with a flaky shatter of crust around the edge and a dusting of sea-salt crystals on top that catch the light. You taste honey first, then salt, then butter, and it is the kind of bite that makes first-timers go quiet. We have watched people try to be interesting and skip it. Do not skip it. Get the salted honey, slide into that orange banquette if there is a seat, and then decide if you are the kind of table that needs a second slice.

After that, we look at the fruit. This is an Oregon pie shop, so the case follows produce — berries, stone fruit, apple, whatever is honest that week. If there is a fruit pie that names a local berry or a summer orchard, that is the second order, and the juices run dark and glossy against that same all-butter crust. We have taken whole fruit pies home when we were not eating in, and cream pies when the fruit board was between seasons. There are other things in the room — biscuits, quiche, pastry, coffee — and we are not above a biscuit if we arrived hungry. Pie is still the point, and we are thrilled about it! If you are buying a whole pie, say so at the counter before you get lost in slices.

Before you go

This is a sit-down bakery with real hours, not a morning-only window, and it is popular enough that “we’ll just pop in” can turn into a line. We go when we already want pie. If you need a specific flavor — salted honey, a named fruit pie — check the shop before you drive, because the case is seasonal on purpose. Richmond is walkable if you are already on Division or Clinton. If you are coming from the eastside loaf belt, this is dessert, not bread, and we love treating it that way.

One more thing we tell people who only know the shop from a photo of the salted honey: the honey pie is sweet, and that is the JOB. The salt is there to make it taste like a finished dessert, but you are still eating honey custard. If you want tart fruit, order fruit. If you want the famous slice, order the famous slice. We have done both in one visit when the table could handle it, and we have zero regrets. Go for the slice — and get ready to talk about it ALL week.

More on the place page: Lauretta Jean's

Something wrong? Tell us.

Editorial policy

Lauretta Jean's · See the Journal