Joy! Beauty! Rapture!…Pie??

Published September 17, 2007

By Alex Townsend

One of the less pleasant effects of growing up is discovering that you have been deceived about many things you had believed to be true: Not all people are kind; not all issues have clear, easy answers; etc.

However, there are also far more specific, and dare I say, insidious deceptions out there for the naive child’s mind. One particular incident comes to my mind from personal experience: pie.

I went through the first eleven years of my life without ever having tasted a pie. This was not my personal choice. I loved pie, or at least the idea of it. I still have vivid memories of watching Snow White and being mesmerized as she rolled out of bed and cut a picture perfect pie crust. She was singing! The sun shone directly on her! How could this traditional baker’s ware be anything but wondrous?

I knew that pies came in flavors such as apple and blueberry (but mostly apple; that was the flavor that all of my dolls would eat). But I always assumed that the inside of a pie was exactly the same as the inside of a cake. In fact, it was probably even better than cake. The inside of a pie must have looked and tasted exactly the same as vanilla cake (I had always hated chocolate), except with a crust instead of that disgusting frosting stuff.

It was the coolest seeming pastry ever, and I treated it accordingly. Did Barbie need to go on a picnic? She’d bring a pie. Still, no one in my family really cared for pie, and I didn’t get a chance to actually try some until I was in about sixth grade.

This is the point where my pie tragedy becomes a black-and-white film, and the ominous music sets in.

The scene was Thanksgiving dinner. The meal was being served buffet style. Since I was, and still am, a notoriously picky eater, I eyed the various foods uncertainly. Each entree seemed less appealing than the one before it. Then came the desserts. My aunt had baked an apple pie.

Joy! Beauty! Rapture!

All the feelings of a dream come-true came swirling through me! I eagerly cut myself a slice. But then darkness fell across my heart. For a moment I wanted to deny it, but it was no use. I had to face the now indisputable truth: pie was disgusting.

The crust that housed it was nice enough, even somewhat tasty, but the inside was another story. Did someone really just cut up an apple and stick it in there? Why would anyone just put solid apple into anything? Not only that, but the apples in the pie were soft and covered in some gross oozing liquid.

I did take a few more small hesitant bites of the monstrosity, but only enough to confirm my beliefs. I didn’t want to risk throwing up. I realize that my anti-pie stance may not be the most popular one. I’ve even heard rumors that some people actually sort-of like pie, though I have no idea why.

I’m not saying that all pie recipes should be burned in a massive fire and then never spoken of again. Pumpkin pie would be spared, since that one isn’t as bad. I just wish pies were what they should have been all along: cake with crust, possibly with a light fruit flavoring.

Though growing up brings many unpleasant truths to light, it doesn’t have to be a cause for despair. You may be glad it happened. Now, who’s up for a bonfire?

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