Face-First Into Tradition: The Cultural Origins of Competitive Pie Eating

Among the many wonderful things from Toronto, we have them to thank for the first recorded pie-eating contest. It took place in 1878 as a charity fundraising event and was won by Albert Piddington, whose prize was a “handsomely” bound book. Newspapers across the United States covered the event, describing this unorthodox form of "the latest new entertainment."

The choice of pies made perfect sense. Pies were cheap and popular foods for nineteenth-century Americans and Canadians. They were readily available and messy enough to provide entertainment value for spectators. They captured public imagination as a novel form of entertainment that combined competition with comedy.

Here’s a little pie-fact - originally pie-eating contests were called “pie-eating tournaments,” How about that? 

Following that first Toronto contest, pie-eating competitions became popular at county fairs, community events, and fundraisers throughout North America. They became part of the broader tradition of competitive eating that would eventually evolve into the organized events we see.

The pie-eating contest represents one of the earliest forms of organized competitive eating, predating the famous Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest by decades. Today, pie-eating contests remain popular at local festivals and fairs. They serve the same purposes they did in 1878: raising money for good causes, bringing communities together, and providing messy, lighthearted entertainment that makes people laugh.

Oh, one more thing. There are two recorded deaths during pie eating contests. Even lighthearted entertainment comes at a price.

How America Took Britain's Greatest Food Group and Made It Dessert

I wanted to know. I did some research. Here’s the scoop. The difference comes down to timing. It was all about the Sugar Revolution.

When sugar became cheap and available, British pie culture was already set in stone. American pie culture was just getting started.

By the 1700s, Britain had Caribbean sugar colonies. Sugar prices dropped and it became mainstream. But savory meat pies were already the norm in Britain. These hearty pies served as main meals, not desserts. The tradition was too established to change.

America was different. The colonies developed their pie culture during this sugar boom. When sugar became widely available, American bakers embraced it. They made simple sweet fillings with basic ingredients. American pie culture grew up alongside increased sugar availability.

American colonists also had access to abundant fruits—apples, berries, pumpkins. They had cheaper maple syrup  and molasses.

Britain kept its savory pie tradition. Steak and kidney pie, shepherd's pie, and meat pies remained central to British cuisine. These pies were substantial meals that fed working families.

America went the other direction. We became sweet pie people. 

Don't say you don't learn stuff from Pi Man.

Why Pie-Throwing is America's Weirdest Protest Tradition

 

Sometimes the best way to make a point is to throw dessert at someone's face. Seriously.

Pie-throwing as political protest has a surprisingly long history. Spanish bakers were apparently chucking pies at royal dinners back in the 1600s to protest Habsburg policies, which honestly sounds like the most delicious revolution ever.

But America really perfected the art. The modern pie-throwing movement kicked off in 1969 when activist Jim Retherford smooshed a cream pie right into UC Berkeley president Clark Kerr's face. And just like that, a beautiful tradition was born.

The most famous pie incident happened in 1977 when gay rights activist Tom Higgins delivered a pie to anti-gay crusader Anita Bryant during a press conference. Bryant's response? "At least it was a fruit pie," before bursting into tears and praying for the pie-thrower.

What makes pie-throwing so effective isn't the mess—it's the humiliation. There's something deeply ridiculous about being covered in whipped cream and custard that instantly makes even the most serious person look silly

The visual impact is incredible too. Early activists figured out that pie-throwing created perfect photo opportunities. Each "hit" became a viral moment, spreading the protesters' message far beyond the original audience. The practice became so common that security had to start screening for potential pie-throwers at public events.

Even The Three Stooges got in on the action, making pie fights a comedy staple. Though Larry Fine later admitted the behind-the-scenes reality was gross—prop crews would literally sweep pie goop off the floor, complete with nails and splinters, to reuse it. Ouch.

 

A Pie Blogger's Confession

Forgive me Pie People, for I have sinned. It has been 1661 days since my last posting.

I know, I know. You counted. I counted too. Every morning I'd wake up and think, "Today's the day I'll write about that magnificent key lime pie," and then I'd stare at my laptop screen.

Honestly, I burned out during the pandemic and then I had a hard time getting back into it. I just wanted to eat pie in silence. And let me tell you, silent pie consumption is a lonely art form. No one to share the triumph of a perfectly flaky crust, no one to witness the tragedy of a soggy apples. Just me, my fork, and the crushing weight of my abandoned pie blog.

The irony wasn't lost on me that while the world was baking bread, I—a person whose identity revolved around circular pastries—couldn't even muster the enthusiasm to write about a simple fruit tart. I had become a fraud, a shell of my former flour-dusted self.

But life has seasons and this season is called "I am back."

What got me back? The pure goodness of this Apple Crumble (made with oatmeal!). A sign from the heavens? One bite of that buttery, oat-studded top layer giving way to tender, cinnamon-kissed apples below, and suddenly my fingers were tingling—not from carpal tunnel, but from the desperate need to share this revelation with you, my patient, long-suffering readers.

So here I am, humbled and hungry, ready to resume my sacred duty of chronicling the circular wonders of this world. Thank you for waiting. The pie posts shall flow again.

 

The Pi Man Election Desk is ready to call the 2020 Pie of the Year winner.

There will be no recount. No court challenges. This contest is over. The 2020 Pie of the Year winner with an 8.75 average score. 

The Pear, Fig and Walnut Pie.

Type: Homemade

Baker: Dakota Jacobs 

Ingredients Acquired:  Belmont Market, Wakefield, RI

Occasion:  Thanksgiving

2020 Pie of the Year Nominee #3: The Pear, Fig & Walnut

The Pear, Fig & Walnut (Judging Note. All scoring below is based on a 10-point grading scale, with one being the lowest.)  November 2020. 

Crust Dynamic. Buttery Goodness. Sturdy but still thin, so not doughy. The coloring pattern of the crust was interesting - burnt color, but no burnt flavor, crystalized but not sugary. Pi Man Rating: 9 

 

Dynamics of the Interior. D'anjou pears, dried figs and crushed walnuts.  Very ample proportions. The pears played well, not mushy but not as firm as apples. I guess the figs play a roll in keeping the pie consistent and keeps the pears from deteriorating into pear sauce . The walnuts gave its customary crunch. Pi Man Rating: 8.5

Appearance.  Odd. Like the top of the Millennium Falcon from Star Wars.  Circles. Lines. I liked it.  Pi Man Rating: 8.5

Imagination.  Never had a pear pie in my life.  A common fruit, yet it escapes the normal pie rotation.  Here's to uncharted territory.  Pi Man Rating: 9

Pi Man Summary.  This was unique and tasty pie.  Pi Man Final Score:  8.75

Pie Nominee of the Year #2: The Crazy Crust Apple and Walnut.

Crazy Crust Apple and Walnut Pie. (Judging Note. All scoring below is based on a 10-point grading scale, with one being the lowest.). September 2020. 

Crust Dynamic. Yowza!  This crust was light, crispy, sugary. It was a dessert in a dessert. If anything, maybe there was too much sugar in/on the crust which made it taste a little like a kid's breakfast cereal.  I love crisscross crust patterns. This crust was wicked.  Pi Man Rating: 9

Dynamics of the Interior.   For some reason, it was skimpy on the apples. Who makes a crust this wicked and then goes skimpy on apples?  Sad turn of events.  The baker did use Granny Smith apples though, which is a great choice.  Pi Man Rating: 7

Appearance. Magnificent. Look at it??  Pi Man Rating: 10

Imagination.  Apples and Walnuts. Not exactly exploring strange new lands. Tried and true, but could have used a third ingredient (caramel?)   Pi Man Rating: 7

Pi Man Summary.  I was wired after eating this pie. If only it had more apples. It may have approached Hall of Fame status. The crust was bonkers. Pi Man Final Score:  8.25 

 

2020 Pie of Year Nominee #1: The Peach Praline.

The Peach Praline. (Judging Note. All scoring below is based on a 10-point grading scale, with one being the lowest.)  October 2020. 

Crust Dynamic. Well, there was a lot of crust, but it was flimsy. Peach filling tumbled out of the pie once it was cut. The crust itself was on the doughy side. The taste was fine, little buttery and fit in well with the pie interior. Pi Man Rating: 7

Dynamics of the Interior. Oh mama. Peach and praline make a nice texture combination, sort of like apple and walnuts, but with the softer peach filling just melting in your mouth. Sweet. Sticky. This is a great breakfast pie, dessert pie or watching football pie. This pie was generous as well.  Pi Man Rating: 9

Appearance. The yellow of the peach gives the pie appearance some extra credit once it is cut. Before cutting, the praline makes a weird pattern on the crust, like coffee beans or bird droppings (okay, maybe that is a bit rough). Pi Man Rating: 7

Imagination.  This pie spoke to me.  At this stage in my debauched pie life, I can usually drag pie consumption out over 3 or 4 days. This one was gone in 24 hours.  Pi Man Rating: 8

Pi Man Summary.  It burst into my home like a long lost friend on a rainy autumn afternoon. Extra consideration for being a great breakfast pie.  Pi Man Final Score:  7.8

2020 Pi Man of the Year Pie Nominees

 "Here ye, hear ye. By proclamation of Pi Man, we will be announcing this week the 2020 nominees for Pie of the Year.  Signed, the editorial staff of Pie, Coffee and Conversation. "

The pies will be judged on:

(1) Crust Dynamic, including texture, stability, and taste.

(2) Dynamic of the Interior, including freshness, texture and taste. 

(3) Appearance, both before and after slicing.

(4) Imagination, including ingredient creativity, presentation, and the sheer joy the pie creates.

All are worthy. Only one can win. There is no second place.”

Thanksgiving 2020: Pear, Fig and Walnut Pie. Pi Man Approved.

Some of you may recall Pi Man's despair after Thanksgiving 2019 (see blog post from November 29, 2019: The Pie Side of Hell). Missing pies, Forgotten pies.  2019 was the Year of Pie Regret. I'm happy to report Thanksgiving 2020 was better.

A whole lot better.

This year Little Pi Man (aka my baking son) delivered a Pear/Fig/Walnut Pie. When it comes to pies, I show no favoritism. The pie gods do not allow it. But this year, the off-spring delivered a strong contender for Pi Man's Pie of the Year Award.  Amazing texture combination with the d'anjou pears, figs and walnuts. Stellar crust.  Ample proportions. 

Watch out for Pi Man's Pie of the Year nominees in early December, by the way, with the winner being announced on New Year's Eve (what else do I got to do?) 

Here are some of the pie-making pictures. I really only like eating pie 

and could give a fig's ass about the process (get it...because it was a fig pie.) But can't say Pi Man doesn't read his email. 

 

Pie for Breakfast

 

For those misfortunates who listen to me yap about pie, you know my ‘pie for breakfast” view. My silent prayer for Breakfast Freedom. The Cake Conspiracy has completely absorbed American Breakfast.  Disguising cake surrogates like pancakes, waffles, and French toast as the only choice for a breakfast blowout at your local Golden Spoon, we earnest Americans aren’t even aware that we could be ordering a pumpkin pie with those scrambled eggs.  Look, I know what you are saying. Pi Man, we are as upset as you are. We’ve been tricked by The Cake Conspiracy (the Conspiracy, we assume, being a loose web of pie bakery conglomerates, birthday candle manufacturers and the laboratory which created frosting in a can). We’ve been fooled into believing it is a venial sin to have eggs, bacon, and banana cream pie on our breakfast table.  Sure, there are some brave souls that practice Breakfast Freedom at home and breakout the Fruits of the Forest Pie with the corn flakes. But at a local diner?  In front of your neighbors, their children, maybe even your mother?

Breaks my heart to talk this way about Pie for Breakfast. But truth is written by the victor and The Cake Conspiracy has the upper hand these dark days. But once in a while, a beacon shines on the hill. You know there is still a spark of rebellion.

Today, while mindlessly surfing pie-related news, I found located in Pittsburgh PA a breakfast place called Pie for Breakfast.  Open 7 days a week, it serves up savory and fruit pies with your steak and eggs, biscuit, and gravy.  You can even cross the line and get a fruit pie with your panCAKES.  Heartwarming stuff. I can not wait to try it out.

Does anyone know of this place?  Are there any firsthand reviews?   It’s an 8.5 hour drive for me but it is on my short list.

Pi Man’s October Shout Out for Profiles in Breakfast Courage:

Pie for Breakfast (Pittsburgh PA)

 https://pieforbreakfastpittsburgh.com/index.html

I Like Pie Update: News from Pie Front Line.

Pi Man has a secret Pie Crush.

I live 2,9533 miles from the I Like Pie bakeshop in Claremont,CA. A 44 hour drive via Google Maps. They do not know who I am. No matter, they have stolen my heart with an outrageous contribution to sweet and savory pie cuisine. 

I am thrilled to report I Like Pie is open during the Plague. They are making people happy with curbside pickup. 

Thanks to GB for his intrepid reporting. 

Pie Dementia. I don't remember eating this pie but I have a picture of it on my phone.

Dissociative identity disorder?  Or just too much pie?

I wish I remembered. It looks like a good apple pie.