Let Them Eat Pie

We are gathered here today to talk about pie being better than cake.

my kid drew this (and was compensated)

Now, listen. I’m gonna be a little bossy here; got my big girl britches on. But I will hold your hand if you need me to. This is scary, I understand. Cake is all you’ve known. And change is hard. So, I may come off a little mean. But I need you to remember that it is passion, not anger, that is driving my forceful point-making.

And I want you to know that I still love you if you are a cake person.

But I will never trust you.

(My next piece will be about coffee people vs. tea people and I hope I still have friends when this is over.)

I think this whole cake sitch hits a nerve with so many folks because we aren’t even given a chance to consider if we actually like cake in this country. It’s just fucking everywhere you turn.

Wedding cake is this whole giant, money-hungry industry. No one ever thought to invite pie to a wedding. It seems sort of preposterous, doesn’t it?

And there aren’t gender-reveal pies, that seems messy as hell.

We don’t have birthday pie. Pies don’t even allow for candles, so—great, now your wish was stolen.

Sprinkles are adorable, but they wouldn’t adorn a pie.

A pie decorating contest would certainly be a snooze fest.

Also pies are mostly beige, bless their hearts.

I think cake is a big dry bully, taking over all the occasions like she’s the best bitch in town. We all know that pie is where the real flavor is. Pie is where diversity is.

PIE FOR PRESIDENT!

Listen. No, really. Shhh shhh shhh. Listen... Ok. ok.

Ok.

I’m sorry I yelled. Remember: passion.

But just look at all of the things pie can do :

• You have your cookie-crust pies, like your key limes and your cheesecakes
  (see?!?! cake even has a hold on cheesecake, that bitch. Cheesecake is a PIE!).

• You’ve got your cream pies, like your coconuts and your bostons.

• Fruit-filled pies like your cherries and your apples.

• Custard pies like your chesses and your sweet potatoes.

So many different things a pie can be! And they’re all so unique and different and inclusive.

With cake, you’ve got the cake part. You’ve got the icing part. You can put some stuff on top. You can put some stuff in the middle (more icing yay). And there she is.

Plus, people generally spend more time on what a cake looks like than what it tastes like and I will never accept that into my heart parts.

Maybe it’s the chef and food appreciator in me that will always stand up for flavor and attention to ingredients over ooh, look at what fondant can do, but I just don’t get the cake thing.

When someone’s answer to ‘what is your favorite dessert?’
is ‘cake’, I’ve already found someone new to talk to at the party.

That’s not an answer. That’s a genre.

Just say sugar and I’d have more respect for you.

And the fuck is the love affair with red velvet cake? Are you kidding me with yourself? You’re a barely chocolate cake with a bottle of red food coloring attempting to make you interesting.

In the 1920s it was fine because you were just the product of a chemical reaction between baking soda, buttermilk, vinegar, and raw cocoa powder. But now? You’re shitting red for days for no payoff but a near-chocolate experience.

(Incidentally, and in full transparency, I do actually make cakes that are delicious but I break all the rules in doing so. And I do make a red velvet cake with beet powder to give it the beloved hue, so apologies for my red shit comment up there when I just brought beets to the party.)

Also? And? Plus! There are more dry cakes out there than there are moist ones (sorry for throwing moist in there, but this is really the only approved application for the word) and even a generic grocery store pie that’s got a few days on her can stand up to that dry ass cake.

Because what’s inside a pie will never be dry. It literally can’t. It’s wet on actual purpose. (Do I need to apologize for wet?)

With pie you are forever combining opposing, yet delectably harmonious textures and layers.

Pie is Ellington and Coltrane, In a Sentimental Mood.
Pie is Nicks and Henley, Leather and Lace.
Pie is Jackson and McCartney, The Girl is Mine.

Your tongue hits the salt flakes of that properly pinched pastry first, and then time slows for just long enough to allow the sweet, roundness of something soft to come through.

Also, butter. Butter just wins things, y’all.

Butter wins things.

There are no poignant songs about cake. I love the band, Cake.
Cake by the Ocean is a fun little romp in the hay.

But tell me you can listen to Sara Bareilles’ She Used To Be Mine and not feel something.

She’s imperfect but she tries
She is good but she lies
She is hard on herself
She is broken and won’t ask for help
She is messy but she’s kind
She is lonely most of the time
She is all of this mixed up
And baked in a beautiful pie
She is gone but she used to be mine

Listen (I know you’re still mad about the cake thing but please?), I’m not trying to be posh about this. If anything, pie is a more humble offering than cake.

Wait. Is that why I like it better? Because it’s more honest?

Maybe.

That sounds like a Me thing to do.

But it’s also just better.

According to my brain parts, it’s really just math at this point.

Plus, ice cream with pie is just plain better than ice cream with cake, and ice cream deserves to be wherever she shines the brightest.

Even the other Sarah thinks so enough to write such a lovely little sweet song about it.

So. You can have your cake. And you can even eat it too.

Unless it’s an ice cream cake, in which case it’s not a cake at all.

Class dismissed.