How Moist Chocolate Pumpkin Bread Became My Comfort Blanket

If you’d told me a few years ago that pumpkin belongs in chocolate bread, I’d have laughed. But after one chilly fall afternoon (I think there was rain, or it could have been just the dishwasher leaking), I tried this recipe out of boredom and never looked back. There’s something about the smell of chocolate and pumpkin wafting through my tiny kitchen that makes everything feel right—even if my sink is, uh, mysteriously full of measuring cups. And I swear, every time I bake it, someone wanders in asking, “Is that cake?” Not exactly, but close enough.

Why I Keep Coming Back for Another Slice

I make this moist chocolate pumpkin bread when I want something fudgy that honestly tricked my kids into eating pumpkin (not that they need trickery, but you know how it goes). My family goes absolutely wild for this—except for my cousin who doesn’t like pumpkin, but she’s missing out! The combination of chocolate chips and that warming hint of pumpkin spice is hard to beat (and it covers up any, ahem, less-successful dinners from earlier in the week). Just don’t ask me to slice it warm—I always mangle the first piece. Sometimes I add walnuts if I’m feeling fancy, but honestly, I’m usually not.

What Goes In There? (With My Notes)

1 2/3 cups all-purpose flour (I use whatever’s in the pantry; I’ve swapped in half whole-wheat before and nobody noticed)
2/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder (Dutch process is great, but sometimes I just use what’s on sale—don’t sweat it)
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp baking powder (one time I forgot this; it was… dense. Don’t skip it.)
1/2 tsp fine sea salt (I used kosher once and it was ok, though it melts differently)
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg (cloves work if that’s all you’ve got; I don’t get too precious)
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar (sometimes I do half brown sugar for a deeper flavor)
2 large eggs, at room temp (mine are never ‘room temp’ but hey, turns out fine)
1 cup pumpkin puree (canned or homemade, but Libby’s is my old standby)
1/2 cup plain Greek yogurt or sour cream (or regular yogurt, I’d say—once used vanilla yogurt and it was delicious, if a touch sweeter)
1/2 cup neutral oil (canola, vegetable, or melted coconut oil… butter makes it richer but heavier)
2 tsp vanilla extract (I eyeball it—life’s too short)
1 cup chocolate chips (or chopped bar chocolate; white chocolate was weird, def stick with semi-sweet or dark)
Optional: 1/2 cup chopped walnuts or pecans (for crunch, but my youngest calls those ‘bread invaders’ and picks them out, so… up to you!)

Let’s Put It Together (Or More Like, Watch Me Make a Mess)

Prep the pan: Grab a standard loaf pan (about 9×5 inches); grease it with butter, spray, or just line it with parchment if you hate washing up like me. Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C), but sometimes I forget and have to wait around for it, so just do it early.
Mix the dry: In a big bowl, whisk together the flour, cocoa, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Make sure there’s no pockets of cocoa—or you’ll get big bitter bites. Trust me.
Combine the wet: In another bowl, beat eggs and sugar until a little fluffy (use a whisk or just a fork if you don’t care about arm cramps). Stir in pumpkin, yogurt, oil, and vanilla. It looks kind of like…muddy orange custard at this point, but that’s normal.
Marry the two worlds: Pour wet into dry. Mix until just combined—don’t overthink it, lumps are fine. This is when I sneak a lick of batter (no judgment…well, maybe a little).
Add the goods: Fold in chocolate chips and nuts if using. If you forget the chips, I have personally run them in on top before baking (it’s not the same but still tasty).
Time to bake: Scrape into the pan (it’s a thick batter, use a spoon or, in my case, a rubber spatula with a suspiciously melty edge). Smooth the top a bit, sprinkle a few extra chips for drama. Bake for about 60 to 70 minutes; check by poking a toothpick in the center—the loaf should be mostly clean, but a little smear of chocolate is fine.
Cool it: Let it cool in the pan 15 minutes, then wrestle it out onto a rack. (Or, if you’re me, leave it in there until someone else wants a slice and helps with the extraction.)

Stuff I Learned the Hard Way (Notes)

If you overmix, it really does get tough. Didn’t believe that until I made one that could double as a doorstopper.
Fresh pumpkin puree is lovely but, honestly, a faff. Store-bought is my hero most days.
If you use frozen pumpkin, thaw and drain it first, or else your bread might resemble pudding. (No shame, I still ate it.)

Things I’ve Tried (Some Worked, Some…Not So Much)

Swapping out the yogurt for buttermilk—gave a nice tang! Worth trying.
Almond flour: made it very crumbly. Probably not again.
Adding a swirl of peanut butter: glorious. Maybe not for everyone, but I’m a fan.
Once I topped it with marshmallows… wouldn’t recommend unless you like sticky clean-up and confused family members.

What’s Really Essential (And What Isn’t)

You’ll want a deep loaf pan for the classic look, but I’ve cobbled it together with a cake tin once—just watched the bake time. Electric mixer makes it easier, but a wooden spoon and some elbow grease work too (I did okay with a potato masher once, though wouldn’t recommend on purpose!).

Stashing the Bread for Later? (If You Can)

This keeps at room temp for about 3 days in an airtight container, assuming it lasts that long—though honestly, in my house it never makes it past breakfast the next day. You can freeze slices for a month, but full disclosure, I always forget about them and end up nibbling from the freezer like a goblin.

How I Love to Serve It

I usually serve it with a thick smear of cream cheese, but my brother-in-law swears by salted butter. We occasionally toast slices if there’s leftovers (rare). When I’m feeling fancy, I dust powdered sugar on top, which looks impressive until the dog sneezes under the counter and it flies everywhere.

If I Could Go Back in Time: My ‘Wish I’d Known’ Tips

Don’t rush cutting the bread—once I hacked into it piping hot; glorious, gooey, but fell apart everywhere. Now I wait…well, mostly.
Check the oven settings. I once baked it on the broil setting by mistake. Charcoal-chic isn’t in.

Real Questions I’ve Actually Gotten (Or Overheard in the Next Room)

“Can I use sweetened cocoa powder?”: Sure, but reduce the sugar a smidge. It’ll be quite sweet; maybe halve to 1 cup sugar. Taste the batter if in doubt.
“Is pumpkin flavor strong in this bread?”: Not really! It’s more of a background thing—adds moisture, but the chocolate’s the main act. If you want more pumpkin punch, double the spices a bit.
“Does this work as muffins?”: Absolutely. I bake them about 22 minutes. No need to change the recipe, just keep an eye so they don’t dry out.
“Can I double it?”: Yep, just use two pans (or try a 13×9 cake pan, though the slices aren’t as loaf-y). I double it most of the time, honestly.
“Got any resources if I want to check baking times for different pans?”: When in doubt, I use King Arthur Baking’s chart or the guides at Sally’s Baking Addiction. Both are lifesavers in my chaotic kitchen.

Anyway, if you make this moist chocolate pumpkin bread, let me know if you find a way to keep it around longer than we do. (No recipe can stop a hungry family—nor would I want it to, if we’re honest.)

Moist Chocolate Pumpkin Bread