The one thing that exonerated my birthday, until I could legally drink (ahem), was birthday pie.
My mom makes The. Best. Apple pie. It’s all homemade - the flakey crusts, the apple filling, everything.
Cake is good. Cake has its place in the world. But cake has its limits.
If you like frosting, there is inherently too much cake, not enough frosting. And face it, if you’re like me and don’t care for frosting, eating naked cake is sort of dry and crumbly and sad.
Pie, on the other hand, is completely virtuous.
Fruit filling, whether homemade or canned, is always delicious.
For those who don’t like fruit filling, there are a myriad of other options - chocolate, pecan, and banana cream to name a few.
And crust has its place in the world of pie - it gives tooth to the pie, and a slight saltiness to complement the filling.
And, unlike cake, pie can stand alone with or without ice cream.
Therefore, pie is better than cake. For those who need a diagram:
So, when mom asked what flavor cake I wanted for my 14th birthday, I threw her a curveball.
Me: I want pie!
Mom: ??? Really?
Me: Yeah! I love pie! I want apple!
Mom acquiesced and made me the apple pie. And I loved it. I think I had a birthday pie for the next 3 or 4 years.
The birthday pie tradition died when I left for college, but that was only because every time I came home she made sure there was pie waiting for me. So I knew pie was only 1.5 hours away from me, whenever I wanted it.