There’s an atrocity taking place in houses across America, and we’re going to speak about it. It is almost as important as whether trade, just a tier below bees’ loss of life off in droves and somewhere in the JFK assassination shadow. This trouble runs deeper than religions, creeds, and political affiliation. Whether you’re a Muslim, Christian, Jew, Democrat or Republican, Boomer or Millennial, it’s time to cope with the elephant inside the room.’
Why is a collection of misinformed savages performing like cake the same as pie?
Created by the Egyptians, propagated with the Greeks’ help, made tremendous by the Germans, and pushed home by post-commercial-age Americans, the cake has become the image of birthdays, weddings, and death. Someone gets married and desires to take a tacky photo with a slice? The cake has your back. Does Grandma kick the bucket? Here, have a slice of sympathy sponge.
Pie doesn’t get caught up in all that nonsense; it’s humble and extra significant. You may consume cake while grandma dies, but you proportion her pie even as she’s alive.
And in which cake? You get one for your birthday, constructed to be a homespun art while all and sundry pretends to be satisfied, which you wheeze all over it, blowing out the candle. Tally it all up: spit waxy candle bits and layers of frosted drywall no person wants to consume. Sounds delicious!
Kids’ birthday events are even worse. We’re stuffing an already insane batch of miscreants with hot dogs and chips, after which we supply them a low-grade sugar surge? Who thought this turned into a good concept?
Let’s get actual here: Have you ever even been to a birthday party where the whole cake is eaten without a doubt? Sixty percent of receives were tossed about three days after guilt led you to stuff the leftovers in the beer fridge because “it’d be awful to permit all that hard work go to waste.” The truth is, we all realize that a festering pile of shit has become simply taking on vital real estate.
Hell, with birthdays, what about our two biggest food holidays: Christmas and Thanksgiving? Are any of y’all munching on the cake? Nope. Your ass is lining as much as sample nine one-of-a-kind sort of the pie. You just crammed yourself silly with mashed potatoes, turkey, and food called stuffing. However, you continue to control to make room for pie. Why? Because it’s that excellent.
How cake became viewed as pie’s identical is a mystery in not only the Marvel universe but also the actual one we live in, and there aren’t any friendly Spider-Dudes or cosmic dessert strength like Thanos and his sparkly glove to redeem it.
Cake sucks. It’s nothing more than a drywall center covered in disgusting icing with crunchy sugar most cancers vegetation — and without the frosting, the cake is even worse—a loathsome sponge without a soul, reliant on blind desire all the components will coalesce. Let’s get real, cake human beings; you’re just in it for the frosting. And that’s exceptional, I bet, however all the frosting within the international can’t beat an easy peach pie.
A slice of pie has umami: the crunch of the crust, the gooey center. Let’s prevent patting cake on the pinnacle and giving it a participation trophy for simply showing up. The cake is the child on the tee-ball team who loves sitting on the bench and slurping Slushies. He didn’t earn his $5 celebrity trophy with the unhappy little plaque, but he was given it anyway, despite puking purple at 2nd base the only time he, without a doubt, got a hit.
In the pantheon of dessert ingredients, the cake is a 7th vicinity, at excellent, behind cannoli, cakes, cobbler, and anything fun English people make on The Great British Baking Show.
The pie comes in apple, cherry, lemon meringue, pumpkin, strawberry, blueberry, and chess — it’s this kind of rainbow of flavors; there must be a caricature leprechaun guarding that shit. Who doesn’t like a tangy key lime pie with its vibrant, sour taste, the ethereal layer of whipped cream, and then your boy, the graham cracker crust including a flavor layer and coming accurate Mack Diesel-fashion?
Over in Lakeville, you can wish for red velvet, ultra-chocolate with pink dye. Every cake defender cites chocolate as the ultimate instance of cake’s power; however, have you ever tried chocolate pie? It’s lush, velvety, with a pudding consistency, and in contrast to chalky ol’ cake, doesn’t require a pitcher of milk to cowl for that drywall-tasting ass.
Cake has, like, six flavors: chocolate, pink-chocolate, vanilla, vanilla with some colorful shit inside, and bizarre strawberry that tastes like the shade crimson. But Bobby, what about ice cream cake? Get out of right here with that crap. That’s ice cream in a flowery outfit. And as for cheesecake? The cream cheese texture and presence of a crust indicate it’s greater pie than cake. I’m chalking that up to advertising and marketing because “cheesecake” rolls off the tongue. “Cheese pie” sounds disgusting.
A cake can get stacked to crazy degrees or become toddler-consuming, which, as TV competition indicates, has taught us. The cake got here simplest to affect. It’s the appealing asshole cousin who shits on each circle of relatives get-together. Just as it looks fancy from afar doesn’t imply it’s beautiful. When it comes to studying cake, there’s now not plenty there.
A pie is an artwork produced by a grandmother. You don’t just make a crust, the ones little divots with a fork take patience and a person willing to teach that ability. Pies are currency, acts of kindness while someone does something first-class for you: ain’t nobody’s name, Duncan Hines.
