In honor of Pi Day, we decided at the last minute to pick up a suitable product for the occasion (literally bought it yesterday morning). You’ve probably seen these babies gracing supermarket checkout stands, aging gracefully like fine wines. With enticing flavors like apple, cherry, pineapple, lemon, blackberry, strawberry, French apple (ooh la la!), Hostess Fruit Pies have served as after school snacks for generations of fat children and will probably continue to for years to come, despite all the anti-HFCS sentiment (High Fructose Corn Syrup, which the majority of this product seems to consist of) and Michelle Obama campaigns.
If you thought pastry snacks like Pop Tarts and Toaster Strudels were bad, think again. Hostess Fruit Pies are 480 calories a pop (for reference, two Pop Tarts are 400 calories, even the indulgent flavors like “Hot Fudge Sundae”). Considering the nutritional value of this fruit pie, I was a bit disappointed that one pie cost one dollar (and that was the sale price). I would expect something more like 50 cents. I decided to go with cherry since it’s a classic flavor, though not as American as Apple Pie. If anything, it’s painful to call this thing a “pie”; this ain’t no dessert baked by your dear old Grandma and cooling on the windowsill.
You’re sorely mistaken if you think the inclusion of the word “fruit” in this product makes it anywhere near healthy. The fruit in this product only consists of a bright red goo inside; no actual cherries in sight, besides on the packaging. I do have to give props for the Hostess website for attempting to make these sound slightly appealing with phrases like “heat them up and let the fruit filled aroma fill the house” and “serve them a la mode”. I hereby nominate a Hostess Fruit Pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream hastily slapped on top as the most depressing dessert ever. The site also mentions that “a trip to the snack cake aisle can be like visiting a country fruit stand”, that is, if your local fruit stand consists of jars of red, yellow and purple goo.
Truth be told, I didn’t even eat any of this pie, since I remember the sugary gooey taste from my childhood. Ben took off a piece of the frosted crust and ate it, then threw the rest away citing, “I don’t want anyone else to eat the rest of this” with a somber look on his face.
I’d link to a site where you could buy these online, but they’re available at pretty much any supermarket, convenience store or gas station.