Pie preferences are hotly contested within the food-loving community. Come Thanksgiving time, it seems people are lining up to defend the honor of their favorite type of pie. Pumpkin and pecan war over the title of The Thanksgiving Pie, while outskirt preferences like Rhubarb and Key lime elbow their way to the table. But enough about our feelings about pie - let's see what our favorite pies say about us.

Sophie Morris


Oh, sweet Apple pie. Let’s start with you. First of all, you are grandma’s favorite, which is admittedly annoying. But you’re also pretty hard to hate. On Thanksgiving day, you’re in your element. You’re That Person who goes on the morning’s first coffee run, is the QB of the winning backyard-football team, makes the ancient-tradition carrot souffle recipe, keeps the killer Spotify playlist bumpin’ all day long, and somehow - does it all in a hip, festive scarf. The football and coffee and Spotify and souffle were okay, but really, the scarf? Stop making us look bad.


Pecan Pie, you can be found in the kitchen, opening a bottle of wine, dipping your pinky finger into the sweet potato casserole (just to make sure it turned out okay) and double checking the names of all your various relatives on Facebook. You are leaned up against the kitchen counter, looking like a complete troll, back scrolling through photos of the weird boyfriend who Leslie (it did, in fact, turn out to be Leslie) brought along. You call over your favorite sibling for juuuust five minutes of gossip before you join the party. Soon you will waltz into that Thanksgiving feast and be your charming, goofy, adorable self -- but you’re having too much fun on the outskirts to enter into the fray just yet.


Pumpkin pie, thank god you’re here. Your valiant efforts to keep the dinner table conversation from steering political have not gone unnoticed or unappreciated. Your insistence on telling everyone everything you are thankful for is annoying but kind of cute. Also, you are to thank for the fact that there is a wreath on the door and a festive bunch of flowers in the middle of the table. The cheerful spirit you bring to the holiday is an inspiration to us all. Moreover, the reckless abandon with which you throw yourself face first into the Thanksgiving meal is admirable and we thank you for being here (but please save some food for the rest of us)

apple, rhubarb, strawberry, pie
Grace Nguyen

Any Kind of Berry, or, Bless You, “Rhubarb” Pie

Oh, sweetie. Someone should give you a foot rub or perhaps just mention something about the flour on your forehead. You have been checking on the turkey, roasting 25 different varieties of vegetable, and searching frantically for kitchen items you cannot name or describe since 6 AM. Your family wants to help but feels you might need some space. You panic when you realize it is already 4:00 and the holiday card photo has yet to be taken. You also REALLY worry that people will not adhere to the name cards you placed on the table, and know that world war three will ensue if they do not comply with your arrangement. Stay strong, Berry, and perhaps consider a potluck next year.

Key Lime

Thanksgiving isn’t totally your scene, but you’re going with it. Maybe you’re the “chill cousin” or just a really cool aunt, but you can be found at the outskirts of the room, wearing something extremely chic that no one quite knows the word for (tunic? mumu?) casually explaining your new tattoo to interested friends and neighbors. You made sure to park your car on the street, not in the driveway, so that you can dip if another more exciting activity presents itself last minute (or you simply get bored out of your mind) but for now, you’re managing to enjoy the pleasant conversation and autumnal vibes.


Chocolate pie, you’ve had a day. Actually, you keep saying that, but considering the fact that you just woke up from a long, hard nap and stumbled downstairs in sweats, it seems like you’re doing okay. You quickly realize you missed the dress code memo and begin to sweat a little bit as relatives filter through in snappy business casual. You wonder if you should run upstairs and change or try to make your groutfit look intentional in what will be the biggest PR push of your calendar year. Exhausted by the options, accepting the L, you pile a plate high with food and pull up a chair at the kids table, which turns out not to be the judgement-free zone you imagined it would be, as all your tiny cousins are wearing Crew Cuts. You’ll get ‘em next year.