Let’s Talk: Why Pumpkin French Toast Breakfast?

I have this memory (and if you’ve known me for a while, you’ve probably already heard it at least three times, sorry in advance!) of making pumpkin French toast the first chilly morning after Halloween. We had some pumpkin purée staring at us from the fridge, and you know when ingredients practically beg you to use them? So I figured, why not toss pumpkin in the classic French toast mix? Ended up feeding half the street, or at least it felt like it. My cousin even tried it cold—said it tasted like autumn in a sandwich. Bless his heart.

Why You’ll Love This: My Honest, Rambling Thoughts

I make this on lazy weekend mornings, especially when the weather’s all blustery and poking your nose outside just isn’t on the cards. My family goes a bit mad for it because it’s got that cinnamon-cosy feeling, but (if I’m honest?) also because I drown it in maple syrup. One year I lost the nutmeg mid-recipe, so I used extra ginger—actually, turned out even better, so there’s a happy accident for you! The best part: it turns day-old bread into something everyone claims is “restaurant quality” (their words, not mine). And when my kids say that, I almost believe them—well, once they’re out the door, anyway.

What You’ll Need: Ingredients List (with Wiggle Room)

Thick white bread (brioche is lush, but I’ve used regular sandwich bread when that’s all I’ve got—works fine, just soaks up quicker)
3 eggs (sometimes I’ll do 2 if it’s all I’ve got, but the mix is a bit thinner)
2/3 cup milk (whole, but honestly any kind except skim, which made it a bit sad looking—oat milk’s grand, too)
1/2 cup pumpkin puree (canned or homemade—my gran always used Libby’s, but store brand does the trick as well!)
2 tbsp. brown sugar (white sugar if I’m out, or even honey—no one’s complained yet)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon (sometimes I do a little more, honestly, I’m heavy handed)
1/4 tsp ground nutmeg (or allspice; whatever’s in the cupboard)
Pinch of salt (just… don’t forget, or it tastes flat somehow)
Butter for frying (or a neutral oil, but it’s never as good)
Optional goodies: handful chopped pecans, splash of rum (if no one underage is lurking)

The Directions: Real-Life, Step-by-Step (With Tangents)

Mix your stuff: In a big bowl, whisk eggs, then add milk, pumpkin puree, sugar, vanilla, spices, and salt. It looks a bit gloopy at first—don’t worry! This is where I usually sneak a taste and then wonder if maybe more cinnamon would be best. Sometimes I just add it anyway; who’s checking?
Prep your bread: Slice your bread if it’s not already. About ¾ inch works for me so it doesn’t fall apart, but if you like stodge, go fatter. Lay out the bread and let it air a tick if it’s very fresh—it soaks up better when it’s a bit stale. (Learned the hard way. Soggy disaster on my first go, not my finest hour.)
Dunk’n’soak: Dip each slice in your pumpkiny mix, turning once or twice. Let it soak for at least 20 seconds, more if the bread’s a sturdy type. Don’t make a swimming pool of it though—it falls apart if you leave too long. One time I forgot and… let’s just say we had pumpkin bread pudding (not bad, actually, but not the goal!).
Fry away: Melt a good knob of butter in a skillet—medium heat, not high or it’ll burn before it’s cooked through. Lay the soaked slices in the pan gently (I learned, after squishing a few, that a spatula’s kinder than fingers). Fry about 2-3 min per side, ’til they’re golden and your kitchen smells like you’re running a festive café.
Serve ASAP: As they come off the pan, slap ’em on a warming tray or just a plate under some foil. You can eat them straight away, but I tend to pile mine up and serve all at once—a risky move, but I like the drama.

Notes: Because Life’s Not Perfect

If your mix is really thick, add a splash more milk—there’s honestly no harm, and nobody ever noticed.
Try not to use super fresh bread. Homemade sourdough was… well, it went weirdly chewy last time I tried. But hey, live and learn.
Some recipes will insist you need fancy bread, but regular pain de mie works in a pinch. It’s just bread after all.

Variations: Because I’m Incapable of Following Recipes to the Letter

Apple butter swirl: Sometimes I add a tablespoon into the mix for more autumn flavor.
Chocolate version: Once tossed in chocolate chips (my kids still talk about that like a legendary event—personally, I found it too sweet)
Gluten free: Used gluten-free oat bread, which I thought was grand, but my mate said it tasted like “cardboard dipped in coffee” so… maybe just use your favorite kind.

Equipment (But You Can Always Improvise)

Mixing bowl (Big coffee mugs work if you’re only doing a few slices—been there, done that.)
Whisk (a fork will do in a pinch)
Skillet or nonstick pan (I have an ancient cast-iron one that’s never let me down, touch wood)
Spatula (fish slicer works for me—no rules)

And honestly, if the only pan you’ve got is tiny, just do ’em in batches. Or toasties maker, if you’re feeling adventurous (not traditional, but the clean-up is easier!)

Storage: If You Have Leftovers (Not That I Ever Do)

Keep any leftovers in an airtight container in the fridge. They’re actually, in my opinion, better the next day—pop in a low oven to reheat, or just eat cold like my cousin does. They say you can freeze it, but honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! If you do freeze, pop parchment between slices so they don’t glue together. (Source: the Kitchn’s handy freezer guide—saved me that one weird Christmas when I overcooked!)

How To Serve Pumpkin French Toast Breakfast—My Favourite Ways

Generous glug of maple syrup, big dollop of whipped cream if I’m feeling posh, and one of my kids insists on chocolate sprinkles (what can you do?). Around here, I usually do a side of crisp bacon and extra-strong coffee—balances all that sweetness. And for some reason, it always tastes best when you eat it sitting in your fluffiest socks, don’t ask me why.

Pro Tips: Stuff I’ve Learnt the Hard Way

I once tried to use only egg whites—to make it lighter—and regretted it, tasted like a sad, bland omelette. Yikes.
Don’t dunk your bread too long, unless you fancy pumpkin mush (maybe your crowd does?).
Don’t skip the salt—it’s one of those tiny things that somehow makes a big difference and I have no idea why.
Also, yes, I’ve burned a batch or two by stepping away “just for a sec” (never trust the kettle—just watch the pan).

FAQ—as if You Were Right Here in My Kitchen Asking Me

Can I make this dairy free? Oh, definitely. I’ve used oat milk and coconut oil. Just don’t use skim—tastes like you’re missing the good bits, if you ask me.
What if I don’t have pumpkin puree? Canned sweet potato mash works actually. Or, mix a little extra milk and cinnamon and just call it “Autumn French Toast”—the vibe’s the same, honestly.
How can I make this ahead? Mix up your custard the night before, chuck it in the fridge. As for the bread, I wouldn’t soak overnight—tried that once, turned into bread soup (not nice).
Can I make it in the oven? Yes, but I find it’s not as golden—if you want a hands-off method, try a big-batch bake. This baked pumpkin French toast from Sally’s Baking Addiction is honestly what I use when I’m feeding a crowd.
What goes really well with it? You can get all fancy with candied nuts or just keep it simple. Sometimes, I pile on leftover cranberry sauce, weirdly works!

Oh, before I forget—has anyone ever noticed how putting on music while cooking makes the whole thing less of a chore? Not exactly a recipe step but, well, I usually have some Motown blasting. Makes flipping the toast a real performance—sometimes the dog joins in.

Pumpkin French Toast Breakfast