10 Fast Food Dessert Pies, Ranked Worst To Best

If you're anything like me, your mind likely wanders to milkshakes, cones, or other ice cream-centric treats when you think of fast food desserts. Frostys, Blizzards, and McFlurrys are probably at the top of your list — at least, on the days the ice cream machine is working. I also can't discount the popularity of cookies at quick-serve restaurants; chains like Subway, Panera, and Jimmy John's have that confection on lock.

There's another category we're neglecting entirely: pies. Let me be the first to admit that there are far more restaurants than I thought serving up this classic delicacy. McDonald's may have been one of the first, but it's far from the only. Of course, most chains fast food-ify the experience — transforming what's traditionally a plate-and-fork dessert into a convenient handheld. However, just because they're smaller with an origin far from grandma's kitchen doesn't mean they can't deliver real flavor. It's not some pie-in-the-sky dream to think that you could find a genuinely delicious slice in the drive-thru.

I know this because I recently tried 10 different options, ranging from fruity flavors to chocolatey indulgences. Some were truly top-tier, but to find them, I had to munch through a few that were a bit less savory. Along the way, I looked for a crust that doesn't just hold it all together but stands on its own, naturally fresh fillings, and the quintessential consistency of crispy and flaky on the outside, gooey and tender on the inside. These benchmarks led me to the upper crust of fast food pies.

America's favorite fast food restaurant has been serving up the archetypal American dessert for over half a century. In 1968, apple pie became the very first dessert on the chain's menu. It has stuck around ever since — as steadfast as the Big Mac or Happy Meal — but has, in fact, undergone one major change in its lifetime. The original apple pie pockets were deep-fried to achieve their bubbling crispness, but in 1992, the Golden Arches made the decision to ax this method in favor of baking instead. Some folks with a sweet tooth swear the old version was superior, and I fear they may be right.

I wasn't particularly fond of this pastry from the jump, and it had everything to do with the lattice-style crust. Sure, it's aesthetically pleasing, but what it really means is less crust. This would typically be a real downer for a crust-lover like myself, except for the fact that this chewy outer layer was the most disappointing part of the entire pie. According to the chain, the insides are made from 100% American-grown apples flavored with sugar and cinnamon. It ends up being more goo than fruit, though, with a tartness that makes me believe that these apples were not picked at the peak of ripeness.

Overall freshness was not a defining factor for this longtime Mickey D's treat, and it only left me craving one of the deep-fried originals. So with that, I had no choice but to serve the chain a slice of humble pie by sending it to last place in the rankings.

It's not true down-home, Southern comfort food without a piece of pie to round out the meal. Of course, Church's apple pie comes in pouch form rather than sliced. But we're willing to make exceptions, especially for a fast food spot that has on-the-go eaters to worry about.

This particular pie is made up of apple slices sprinkled with cinnamon and wrapped in a flaky crust. It sounds fairly standard based on ingredients alone, but its looks say otherwise. Like an overgrown pizza roll with burnt edges, it's not overly enticing from the outside. Then, its dry, sugarless crust gives way to an extra runny, golden filling. Apple bits are chopped into petite cubes, and the cinnamon spice is kept light.

Altogether, it reminded me of a cheap pie you would pick up at the grocery store — one that perhaps had been sitting out for a while. It's not necessarily turn-your-nose-up bad. It even has some high points when pitted against McDonald's — if you happen to get a bite right at its center, you can manage to avoid the overcooked fringes of the crust while enjoying plenty of fruit pieces and balanced sweetness. It's the kind of dessert that I would gladly pass on in lieu of almost anything else. Unfortunately, Church's puts all its eggs in one pie basket. This is the only year-round sweet treat listed on the menu, so it's pretty much take it or leave it.

Bojangles offers one of the only fast food pies that does not come in Hot Pocket form. The chain actually refers to it as a cobbler rather than a pie for a more rustic feel. But after inspecting the ingredients, I'd say this dessert sits in a league of its own.  Bojangles has taken one of its house-made buttermilk biscuits — which it already happens to have stocked for biscuits and gravy, breakfast sammies, and sweet Bo Berry biscuits — plopped it in a cup, and topped it with peach topping, icing, and cinnamon sugar. The result is intriguing, but there's something about it that seems a little off.

With a heavy yet fluffy bread base, sweet icing filling all the nooks and crannies, and cinnamon sugar, it's highly reminiscent of a cinnamon roll. I think the chicken joint could have left it at that. The peaches (more like peach goop) throw off the palate. They're the kind of peaches that taste like they came from a Dole fruit cup, where they were swimming in juices and treated with sugars and artificial ingredients for preservation. It's just about what you would expect from a quick-service dessert, but it tasted a bit too phony for my liking.

It wasn't all peaches and cream with this cobbler, but I still have to give Bojangles props for creativity. Slapping a few sweet ingredients on top of an already-handy biscuit and calling it dessert is a clever move, and I certainly prefer it over the unsatisfying offerings from both Church's and McDonald's.

Growing up, Arby's was a staple fast food in my household (my home state of Ohio does have the most Arby's locations of any state, at over 270, to be fair, so we had easy access). What I also remember is that turnovers were always tacked on to the end of our order as the obligatory dessert. Because what's a roast beef sandwich without a fruit-filled pastry to follow it up?

That being said, the first few bites of this individual pie-like triangle were filled with sweet nostalgia. The layered croissant casing and thick, hardened squiggle of icing on top immediately unlocked memories I didn't know I had. Deep within, there was also a small amount of gooey stuffing with real apples and hints of light spice. It was seemingly just like I remember, but free from that cloud of childlike delusion, I started to see just a few faults in the turnover's makeup. Quickly handed to me at the drive-thru, it was far from straight-out-of-the-oven, and it showed in its stale texture and duller flavor. Plus, I couldn't help but notice the dough-to-filling ratio was quite off, with most corner bites returning no apple taste whatsoever.

I do believe the Arby's pie creation delivers a certain je ne sais quoi over something like Church's or McDonald's crusty renditions. It also beats the artificiality of Bojangles' peaches with its true-to-form apples. Sentimentality and bias aside, it could still use some work.

Arby's got another bite at the cherry with none other than its cherry turnover. Neither the apple nor the cherry turnover options were on the Arby's original menu from 1964, which featured essentially just the roast beef sandwich and milkshakes. They have been a reliable treat for decades, and one that not many other fast food joints have replicated, at that.

From the outside, the cherry and apple baked goods are nearly indistinguishable. Both come swathed in golden, puffed-up dough and are adorned with a trail of sugary icing. They even share many of the same taste concerns. The cherry version doesn't come overly warm and fresh either, and you'll still need to take a few larger bites to finally be rewarded with the fruit mixture at the center. Even so, the cherry does manage to edge out the apple in terms of overall palatability.

In a taste test overrun by apple pies, a cherry variation stands out. The cherries themselves are just like the kind from a can, swimming in a jelly-like substance. They land perfectly between sweet and tart and brighten up the pastry with a bold juiciness. The bites that happen to be graced with both cherries and icing (the rare few that exist) are pretty darn tasty. Warmed up or served right off a baking sheet, this could be a serious contender. It's also enjoyable as is, and you have to love a treat that can be enjoyed as a dessert or as a breakfast item without anyone blinking an eye.

Warning: Cinnamon dust will get absolutely everywhere when you eat this pie. I would recommend waiting until you're out of your car to eat it ... or maybe even until you're perched over a sink. The confection – which Rally's and its partner in crime, Checkers, actually refer to as an apple pie turnover –is so messy because it's rolled in a generous layer of cinnamon sugar. This addition ups the ante in terms of sweetness, blanketing each bite in a mixture that is not unlike the one you would find adhered to a mouthwatering cinnamon sugar Auntie Anne's pretzel. Yum.

Underneath this surface layer of pure sugar is a thick and sturdy crust. Just think of the outskirts of a whole, circular pie. That's exactly what this crust is like all the way around. It appears dry and crunchy at first, but then softens quickly as you bite into it, giving way to the apple insides, which come seeping out like fruity lava. Albeit tender, real apple chunks are few and far between. So, if you're a fan of those apple pies that are bursting with more juicy apple slices than thickened syrup and crust, this isn't the treat for you. For everyone else, though, I think you'll find it to be quite adequate.

Personally, I think Rally's presents one of the best fast food apple pies you're able to find — a pleasant surprise. However, there were a few other fruity renditions–and even a more indulgent, chocolatey one–that surpass it on the delectability scale.

Popeyes Strawberry Cream Cheese Pie has become a summertime staple, returning each year as the weather begins to warm up. It joins the longstanding apple pie on the menu, but mixes things up with its twin fillings. Both cream cheese and strawberry puree are found packed inside the pie dough, and the entire thing is deep-fried. Popeyes dares to do what McDonald's no longer does, and it pays off.

It only makes sense that a fast food restaurant that specializes in fried chicken would also fry up its desserts. And you can tell immediately that the two bear a resemblance to each other. I don't know if it's the oil or maybe it's that the pie crust and the chicken's breading share a few key ingredients, but the pie carries that unique Popeyes taste and crunch. Tangy, rich, and melty, the cream cheese elevates everything further, turning it into more of a handheld strawberry cheesecake than a pie, and I was not mad about it.

The only downside is that the tart strawberry almost sabotages it. The flavor of the berry coulis isn't what I would call authentic. It leans towards the saccharine side with a candy-like flair — a shame since with fresher strawberries, it really could have been something special. Thank goodness there was just enough cream cheese available to balance it out, and even more crispy crust surrounding it to help overshadow this small shortcoming. With these two ingredients at the helm, this Popeyes pastry was still a success.

This pie sticks out like a chocolate-covered thumb amongst a bushel of fruit-filled confections. The Hershey's Sundae Pie has become a mainstay on the Burger King menu, so there was no question that it would be included in the taste test. I'm glad it was, too, because it offered a rich change of pace and a touch of decadence I wasn't expecting from a drive-thru window.

The Hershey's creation is along the lines of a mud pie — the kind that is actually served for dessert, not the kind that kids make in the backyard on a rainy day. It begins with a crunchy chocolate crust that tastes like OREOs, but which I have to believe is made from a different, knock-off product. Then, the bulk is a chocolate creme filling, and on top lies a drizzle of fudge and supposedly real Hershey's chocolate chips–though I didn't find any. It's less of a pie and more so just messy layers of what tastes like chocolate mousse and whipped cream. With the chocolate syrup and a Frosty-like flavor, it's also similar to an ice cream treat. It's delicious and utterly indulgent, to the point that I could hardly finish just one triangular wedge.

What's more, you can pick up a treat just like the Burger King Hershey's Sundae Pie at the store. And we mean just like it: The Edwards Baking Company, which is the company that makes the Hershey's Sundae Pie, happens to produce a similar version that you can find major retailers like Target and Walmart. Now we just have to figure out a way to get a Whopper from the store as well.

The Golden Arches redeems itself with a summertime special. The McDonald's Blueberry & Crème Pie returned this year in June 2025 after just a few intermittent appearances since its initial debut in 2017. With a combination of blueberries juxtaposed with vanilla-flavored creme stuffed inside the chain's premium pie crust, the blueprint is similar to that of Popeye's strawberry cream cheese pie. However, the execution is much better. And compared to McDonald's classic apple pie, there's no contest.

Served warm, I was already on board with this pie pocket from the start... despite the gaping hole at its center that reminded me of a tissue box. It's not your average, everyday kind of pie. It's like a cheesecake and pie fusion that gives you the very best of both desserts. The crust envelope is decidedly fresh and buttery with a consistency that crumbles in your mouth on impact. The blueberry portion is like a juicy jam that adds vibrant flavor. And the vanilla creme turns it into a rich yet balanced dream. I honestly think adding in a bit of a creamy blend to all pies should be a standard practice.

No hate to McDonald's good ol' time-honored apple pie (really), but I think it may be time to usher in a new era of pie eating at the chain by awarding the blueberry treat a year-round seat at the table and allowing apple to step down to a smaller seasonal role. I'll be starting this petition now.

This is apple pie done right. In my opinion, Popeyes is the only fast food chain that properly captures the true essence of the beloved American dessert, but in a more portable, on-the-go-friendly form. The restaurant also borrows elements from other pies in the taste test. However, it pulls everything together with more finesse and succulent flavor.

Like Rally's does, Popeyes rolls its apple pie in cinnamon sugar, but does so in a way that makes it adhere better to the crust (meaning less sugar landing in your lap and more making it to your mouth). This pie also shares the same crunchy exterior as the chain's strawberry cream cheese variation. The difference here, though, is that the fruit doesn't come with an unnatural tang. Instead, the abundance of apple slices offered a crisp taste that immediately transported me to an autumn afternoon. Paired with just enough accompanying syrup, the innards of this pie were nearly identical to a bowl of buttery and spiced fried apples from Cracker Barrel.

Quintessential with a homemade flair, the Popeyes cinnamon apple pie is a clear winner. The feature that impresses me the most is the crust. Delightfully crisp, golden, and cinnamon-sprinkled, it's almost churro-like and unlike any other fast food pie I've tried. Note to McDonald's: deep frying pays off. Plus, I love the fact that you can pair this pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream in the summer or a cup of hot tea in the winter, and it will still be delicious — a treat to withstand any season.

Ranking these fast food desserts was admittedly easy as pie because it all came down to just two things: crust and filling. Anyway you slice it, the crust had to be crisp, crumbly (preferably buttery), and never chewy or stale. A chocolate pie is obviously judged using different criteria, but the crust still needed to deliver a sturdier base that added texture — Burger King's sundae pie fortunately delivered in that department.

The other half is the filling. If fruit was involved (as it was in most cases), it couldn't be artificial, too sweet, or too goopy — the more real fruit chunks, the better. Cream fillings, like the ones from McDonald's and Popeyes, earned extra points for that added richness. However, it was Popeyes' classic recipe instead that ended up as the apple of my eye.