(That’s a misleading title. The only revolution discussed within this post is that of my feelings about pie. Do you feel let down? If so, why? Would you like to join me in a real revolution of some kind?)
When I was a little kid, the only kind of “pie” I would eat was an ice cream bar called Eskimo pie. I remember being fed one when I was very young, probably not even in school yet, because I had a very high fever. That’s one way to get your treats, kids!
When I turned nine, I asked for a rhubarb pie instead of cake, because my dad like rhubarb pie and I wanted to be like him. I don’t much remember my reaction to it, but I don’t think I was particularly enthused.
Later, I took a liking to lemon meringue pie, my favourite part being the meringue, and my least favourite (and often uneaten) part being the crust. As soon as I had a taste of chocolate pie, I was on board with that too. In fact, it became a tradition for me to order chocolate satin pie from Marie Callender’s every year for my birthday dessert.
In my early teens, I started baking, and lemon meringue pie was one of the first projects. I was surprised to discover that I now preferred the lemon to the meringue (I now love lemon-flavoured desserts passionately). Eventually, I even learned to enjoy eating pie crust (my own pie crusts, anyway. Yes, I am a baking snob).
At this point in my life, I have made and eaten all kinds of pie, having long since left behind my pie-despising ways. Pie-making could be said to be its own reward, but I don’t just enjoy consuming it–delighting other people with my desserts is something I love.