patti pie

I have a simple system for rating the success of a Thanksgiving dinner: the number of pies. It’s an easy formula — the more pies, the better. One pie is too few, three is an acceptable number, and there’s no such thing as too many.

Using that system, rap mogul DJ Khaled had this year’s best Thanksgiving — he had almost as many pies as Snapchats about them.

But this year, for the first time ever, my Thanksgiving dinner seemed lacking. Sure, there was delicious food, enjoyable company and even an acceptable number of pies — but something was missing from the cornucopia.

What could it be?

Patti LaBelle’s Sweet Potato Pie from Wal-Mart.

The R&B icon partnered with Wal-Mart to sell a sweet potato pie based on the recipe from her 1999 cookbook, “LaBelle Cuisine: Recipes to Sing About.” The pies have been available since September, but only became an overnight sensation after singer James Wright posted a musical review of them on YouTube.

“B—-, I turned into Patti,” he claimed. “You’re gonna turn into Patti after eating this.”

Which was more than enough to convince me I needed one for Thanksgiving.

Of course, that’s easier said than done. After the video (which has been viewed about 4 million times) went viral, Wal-Mart completely sold out of the pies, selling one per second for 72 hours straight, according to NPR. At one point, The Washington Post reported local Wal-Marts were answering their phones with:

“Thank you for calling Wal-Mart, we’re out of the Patti LaBelle pie, how can I help you?”

For some reason, however, I was convinced there was a Patti Pie waiting for me somewhere. Call it privilege, stupidity, whatever: Something made me stop at the local Wal-Mart on my way home for Thanksgiving.

So, when I bolted through the still-opening automatic doors and saw a pie display as never-ending as the digits in the number (pi, that is), I thought it was my lucky day. But after scouring the display, overturning pie after pie and swearing repeatedly, I was at a loss. There were “Scrumptious Berry Streusel,” “Rich and Delicious Pecan” and “Juicy and Tart Cherry” pies, but Patti LaBelle’s sweet potato masterpiece was nowhere to be found.

A sprint to the bakery yielded equally depressing results. A wave of Patti paranoia came over me; everyone shopping for Thanksgiving deserts became my competition. The idea that they might get a pie over me was unthinkable.

Of course, it didn’t matter: There was no Patti Pie at that store for anyone. The closest I came was a generic, store-brand sweet potato … thing (I hesitate to even call it a pie).

So I left the store, dejected and pie-less. On my way home, I did what only the heartbroken do: I hit shuffle on Patti LaBelle’s Spotify page.

Mournful crooning poured through the speakers: The Godmother of Soul’s 1978 ballad “You Are My Friend” was there to comfort me.

“You might not say a word/ But I see your tears when I show my pain,” she whispered.

The gentle piano spoke to me. Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t need a sweet potato pie.

“My future looks bright to me/ Because you are my friend.”

But I still wasn’t convinced.

A real friend would get me a damn pie.