That’s what it said on the side of the tractor-trailer on the highway. Since 1924, they’re almost 100 years old.
But it’s unlikely that it’s everyone’s favorite.
Being everyone’s favorite is such an attractive goal, and almost impossible to achieve.
Ask someone about their favorite pie and they’ll talk about the one they ate as a kid, or one that a grandparent bakes, or perhaps, one from the bakery down the street.
To collate all of these favorites into one singular popularity contest is unlikely to yield much success.
It might be America’s most convenient pie, or the bestselling one. It might be the best value or the easiest to obtain. But none of those things mean “favorite.”
Often, when we set out to do our work, we focus on popularity and breadth at the expense of the magic and singular experience that could create a favorite. Something we’d miss if it weren’t there.
I wonder if seeking to be someone’s favorite is more satisfying than trying to be popular to everyone.
I’m sure that if you want to be the most popular, the way to do that is not to seek to be the favorite of everyone (unless that is a side effect of being popular.)