This year, we have been sharing our Labor of Love stories with you. Some have been about products and some have been about personal experiences, but they’ve all reflected on our appreciation for the handmade, the hard-won, and the heartfelt. To honor this weekend’s holiday, we wanted to pay tribute to the biggest labor of love of all: motherhood. We hope you enjoy our stories—and feel inspired to share one of your own with us. Or, even better, share it with the special ones near to you.
In my household growing up, my mother could whip up a dessert in less time than an episode of Family Ties. Her forte: baked goods. Specifically pies. My absolute favorite pie in her arsenal: Boston Cream Pie. She made it only on special occasions. If it was my birthday, I requested a Boston Cream Pie. After I crashed my first car in high school, I had a Boston Cream Pie. When I moved away for art school, I was welcomed home with a Boston Cream Pie (she made two for that).
Over the years, I’ve tried the Boston Cream Pie offerings at many a restaurant and bakery. Nothing I’ve found has ever come close.
Recently I was in Boston with an evening to kill. I did a quick google search and found that Boston Cream Pie originated at a famous hotel still in existence. I made my way to the Parker House on School Street. I sat myself down and ordered one thing. The Parker House version was very good. But it still couldn’t compare to my mother’s.