Pumpkin Bread with Maple Glaze Recipe

Maple-Drizzled Autumn Pumpkin Bread That’ll Make You Weep

Ever wondered why pumpkin bread always seems to come out too dense? Or maybe that’s just me. I’ve been noodling around with this pumpkin bread with maple glaze recipe for ’bout eight years now, ever since that disastrous Thanksgiving when my mother-in-law called my first attempt “interestingly moist” (which is basically a death sentence in baking terms). The kitchen was an absolute wreck—pumpkin puree on the ceiling fan, if you can believe it. I’ve since perfected what I call the “double-fold squish” technique that’ll change everything you thought you knew about quick breads.

Listen, I’m no professional. Just someone who’s burned more loaves than I care to admit (fourteen in 2021 alone). But this pumpkin bread with maple glaze? It’s become my signature autumn flex. The neighbors actually show up uninvited when they smell it wafting through our shared hallway. Not even joking—Mrs. Kapinski from 3B once offered to walk my non-existent dog just to get a slice.

My Pumpkin Bread Odyssey

I remember staring at a can of forgotten pumpkin in my pantry on October 23rd, 2015. It was raining, I had a cold, and I was wearing those fuzzy socks with the coffee cups on them. For some reason, I decided THAT was the moment to try making pumpkin bread from scratch.

The first attempt was… problematic. I didn’t understand the concept of “room temperature ingredients” (why would anyone leave eggs out? seemed dangerous!), and I absolutely mangled what should’ve been a simple mixing process. Tom, my husband, called it “pumpkin clay” and suggested using it to patch the driveway.

But Aunt Frida (not really my aunt—just my mom’s college roommate who taught me everything worth knowing in the kitchen) always said, “Baking failures are just successful experiments in what not to do.” She’d mix her batters with this weird wrist-flick move—what she called a “Tennessee tumble”—that I’ve never seen anyone else use.

Living in Michigan meant I had to adjust for the lake-effect humidity, which plays absolute havoc with quick breads. Three years and about twenty-something loaves later, I cracked the code for a pumpkin bread with maple glaze that makes people question their life choices.

What You’ll Throw Together

1¾ c all-purpose flour (the cheap stuff works better—I’ve tested this hypothesis exhaustively)
2 teaspoons baking powder (slightly heaped—I’m serious about this distinction)
½ tsp salt (kosher preferred, table salt works fine if you’re not a salt snob like me)
1½ tsp cinnamon (Ceylon if you’ve got it, but no pressure)
1 pinkie-tip of nutmeg (roughly ¼ tsp if you’re boring and use measuring spoons)
⅛ tsp cloves (optional if you hate happiness)
1 c pumpkin puree (NOT pumpkin pie filling—rookie error I’ve made thrice)
2 eggs, room temp (leave ’em out for Frida’s Standard—about 47 minutes)
½ c vegetable oil (or ⅓ c applesauce + 3 Tbsp oil if you’re “being good”)
2/3 cup white sugar + ⅓ c brown sugar (packed like you’re angry at it)
¼ c maple syrup (the real stuff—don’t you DARE use pancake syrup or I’ll find you)
1 Tbsp vanilla (yes, tablespoon—this isn’t a typo, trust the process)

For the life-changing glaze:

1 c powdered sugar (sifted if you’re not in a hurry; clumpy if it’s been one of those days)
3-4 Tbsp proper maple syrup (Grade B preferred—darker = better flavor)
tiny splash of cream (like seriously 1 tsp—or what I call a “cat sneeze” amount)
pinch salt (brings out the mapley goodness in that inexplicable chemistry way)

Let’s Make This Pumpkin Bread with Maple Glaze Happen

STEP 1) Preheat your oven to 350°F. Unless your oven runs hot like mine, then do 340°F. Actually—do you know your oven’s personality yet? If not, stick with 350°F and we’ll adjust next time. Grease a 9×5 loaf pan with butter, then dust with flour. Or use parchment paper if you’re fancy (or lazy—no judgment, it’s easier).

2nd STEP: In a medium-ish bowl, whisk the dry ingredients together. Don’t sift—that’s unnecessary faffing about for this recipe. Just use a fork and break up any brown sugar lumps with your fingers. I call this the “squish and swish” method, which sounds dirty but isn’t.

THIRD) In a separate larger bowl (preferably one without the chip on the edge that always cuts your finger—learn from my mistakes), add your pumpkin, eggs, oil, sugars, maple syrup, and vanilla. Now here’s where the double-fold squish comes in: Instead of stirring in circles like a normal person, fold the mixture over itself twice, then squish it against the side of the bowl with your spatula. Repeat until just combined—about 30 seconds total. It looks wrong but works beautifully.

Add dry ingredients to wet. DO NOT OVERMIX! I’m yelling because this matters. Mix until you still see tiny flour streaks. Then stop. Put down the spoon. Walk away for 2 minutes. This prevents the dreaded “tunnel bread” that plagued my early attempts. Check out my pumpkin muffin recipe for more on why this works.

5: Pour (more like plop—it’s thick) the batter into your prepared pan. Smooth the top, but then use a butter knife to cut a shallow line down the center. This helps it rise evenly and creates that perfect crack on top. Bake for 55-60 minutes, or until—wait, no. Start checking at 50 minutes—the day I wrote this recipe I forgot and baked it 65 minutes and it was still good but slightly overdone on the edges.

VI: The toothpick test lies! Instead, press gently on the center—if it springs back and no batter sticks to your finger, it’s done. If your fingerprint remains or batter comes away, give it another 5-7 minutes. Let cool in the pan for EXACTLY 12 minutes (jk, about 10-15 is fine), then remove to a rack.

G) While it’s cooling but still slightly warm, make the glaze. Mix everything in a bowl until smooth-ish. You want it runny enough to drizzle but thick enough to set up. If it’s too thick, add maple syrup by the teeny-tiniest amount. If too thin, more powdered sugar. Drizzle over the bread in a zigzag pattern or just dump it on top if you’ve lost your will to be artistic. Both taste identical. Try my apple cider donuts with a similar glaze!

Notes & Pro-ish Tips

• DON’T refrigerate this bread—controversial take, but it dries it out. Instead, keep it covered on the counter for up to 3 days. It won’t last that long anyway.

★ If your bread sinks in the middle, your leavening is old. Baking powder loses its magic after about 6 months once opened. Test it by putting a bit in hot water—should fizz immediately.

• The Double-Fold Squish prevents overworking the gluten. I discovered this accidentally while trying to mix with one hand and answer the phone with the other back in 2017.

• Freeze individual slices wrapped in plastic then foil—they thaw in 20 minutes at room temp. Perfect for breakfast emergencies. Learn more about quick bread storage techniques from King Arthur Baking.

★ Controversial opinion: Adding ½ tsp of black pepper to the batter enhances the spices without making it spicy. My grandma would roll in her grave, but it works. Read more about unexpected spice combinations at Serious Eats.

Kitchen Besties

Ancient Pyrex Loaf Pan ★★★★★
I’ve had this pale blue beauty since college when I “borrowed” it from my mom’s kitchen.
Heats more evenly than those newfangled silicone pans everyone’s obsessed with these days.
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LXFMYKW

Denmark Wooden Spoon Set ★★★★★
These have permanent stains from all my pumpkin and turmeric experiments—badges of honor!
I use them upside down sometimes for better scraping, which would horrify professional chefs.
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08BX7LWVJ

Variation Station

Try adding ¾ cup chopped walnuts if you’re into that sort of thing. I personally think nuts in bread are a bit like pebbles in your shoe—unwelcome and jarring—but my husband insists they’re good.

For a citrus twist, add orange zest to both the batter AND the glaze. It creates what I call a “sunshine pumpkin vibe” that works mysteriously well in February when you’re desperate for spring.

My most controversial adaptation: substitute ¼ cup of the flour with cocoa powder and add mini chocolate chips. My mother called it “an abomination against tradition,” but then ate three slices. Try my chocolate zucchini bread for a similar concept!

Burning Question

Q: Why does my pumpkin bread always come out too moist in the middle?

A: You’re probably using too much pumpkin or not baking long enough. Pumpkin puree varies WILDLY in water content between brands (and even batches). If using homemade, strain it through cheesecloth for 30 minutes using what I call the “swing method”—literally swinging the cheesecloth bundle gently to release excess moisture. Sounds bizarre, looks ridiculous, works perfectly. Also, your oven thermometer probably lies to you—mine runs 15 degrees cooler than it claims. Trust the finger-press test instead of the clock.

Last Slice Thoughts

This pumpkin bread with maple glaze has gotten me through three breakups, two job changes, and one pandemic. There’s something deeply comforting about the ritual of making it—probably why I’ve been tweaking this recipe longer than my last relationship lasted.

Will I continue experimenting? Obviously. Am I considering a version with miso in the glaze? Perhaps. Should you try this exactly as written first? Absolutely.

The beauty of pumpkin bread lies in its forgiving nature—much like that friend who still loves you after seeing you ugly-cry at 3am. It welcomes adaptations while maintaining its essential pumpkin-ness.

Until next time, may your bread always rise and your glaze never crystallize!

~Chef Disaster (2nd place, “Most Improved” category, 2019 County Fair Baking Competition)