Pumpkin Cornbread with Cinnamon Honey Butter: Why It’s My Rainy Day Go-To

The first time I baked this pumpkin cornbread, I think it rained for three days straight (you know, the kind of persistent drizzle that soaks through to your socks no matter what shoes you wear). My nephew and I got stuck inside and, by day two, desperation for “something warm and comforting” was hitting us hard. I remembered a half-used can of pumpkin in the fridge—not sure what it was left over from, actually—and got inspired. I also distinctly remember fumbling the cinnamon jar and sending a dust cloud across half the counter. The results? Totally worth it. Smells a bit like autumn at your grandma’s, tastes like the lovechild of Thanksgiving and a cozy breakfast.

This Recipe Is a Family Favorite—for the Most Relatable Reasons

I make this when the weather’s moody or when I need to use up leftover pumpkin (which I always seem to have lurking in the fridge). My family goes bonkers for these, especially my brother-in-law, who claims he “doesn’t even like pumpkin” (liar). The cinnamon honey butter? They slather it on everything but the dog. Actually, I find it’s the kind of side dish that accidentally becomes dinner when you eat half the pan before company even arrives. If I’m craving dessert and can’t be fussed, this with a spoonful of leftover honey butter does the trick.
Just don’t expect the kitchen to stay tidy.

What You’ll Need (Plus a Few Swaps and Secrets)

1 cup cornmeal (I use stoneground when I have it; quick-cooking if I’m lazy. Nana swears by Bob’s Red Mill, but really just use what’s in the cupboard.)
1 cup all-purpose flour (sometimes I swap half for whole wheat—the texture’s denser, but still good)
1 tablespoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt (sea salt, table salt, or that flaky salt if you’re feeling cheffy)
½ cup brown sugar (white sugar works okay, but you don’t get that caramelly thing)
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon (plus a pinch of nutmeg, which my aunt says is “essential”—I say try it and see)
1 cup pumpkin puree (canned or homemade, but honestly I never notice much difference)
2 large eggs (lightly beaten—on the counter if you remember, but cold eggs won’t ruin it)
¼ cup melted butter (oil works if your cholesterol’s giving you grief… just don’t use olive oil, unless you’re braver than me)
½ cup milk (whole milk for decadence, almond milk if you’re dairy-free; had someone use oat milk and didn’t notice much)

Cinnamon Honey Butter:

½ cup butter (softened a bit so it's mashable)
2 tablespoons honey (the runny stuff from the farmers’ market, if you can swing it, or just whatever you’ve got)
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Pinch of salt (optional, but yum)

How I Actually Make It (Not Always in Perfect Form)

Preheat the oven to 400°F (about 200°C). Stick a rack roughly in the middle. Grease an 8-inch square pan, or line with parchment if you’re fighting the sticky battle like me.
In a big mixing bowl, toss together cornmeal, flour, baking powder, salt, sugar, and spices. I use a fork out of laziness, but a whisk does make it smoother.
In a medium bowl, whisk (or beat with a fork, no need to get fancy) the pumpkin, eggs, melted butter, and milk. Lumpiness is normal here; it won’t stay that way.
Pour the wet stuff into the dry stuff. Now, don’t overmix—just swirl it around until you can’t see streaks of flour. There’ll be some bumps. This stage usually looks like it’ll never form something edible, but press on.
Scrape the batter into your prepared pan. I tend to “accidentally” taste the batter here (raw egg, I know, sue me), but you do you.
Bake for 22–27 minutes (sometimes mine’s perfect at 24, sometimes I forget about it and it’s still fine at 30). It’s done when a toothpick poked in the middle comes out mostly dry; crumbs are OK, wet batter is not.
While it bakes, mash your softened butter with honey, cinnamon, and salt. I just use a fork and a cereal bowl (a stand mixer seems excessive here—plus it’s one more thing to wash).
Let the cornbread cool in the pan at least 10 minutes, though if you’re impatient, go for it. Smear with honey butter while warm and enjoy.

A Few Notes I’ve Jotted Down Over Time

If the batter seems crazy thick, add a splash more milk. Don’t panic—it’s forgiving.
Forgot to soften the butter? 10 seconds in the microwave (but not melted) kind of does the job. Actually, I find it works better if you set it out early, but who remembers?
My cousin once tried with pumpkin pie filling (not puree) by mistake—way too sweet, don’t do that unless you halve the sugar.
Cornbread tastes awesome the next day, especially if you toast a slice—but honestly, it’s rarely lasted that long here.

Variations I’ve Tried (and One That Bombed)

Swirl in a handful of toasted pecans or walnuts for crunch. One time I tried pepitas (pumpkin seeds)—looked pretty, not my favorite texture-wise.
Add a sprinkle of cheddar to the batter for a savory twist. Kids didn’t love it, but I thought it was brilliant.
Mix orange zest into the honey butter if you feel like getting fancy. Smells amazing.
Failed attempt: Tried subbing all the flour for almond flour once. Crumbled into a weirdly tasty pile of, well, crumbs. Good over yogurt, if nothing else.

Stuff You’ll Need (But Don’t Panic If You’re Missing Something)

8-inch baking pan (round or square, honestly)
Mixing bowls – big and medium
Fork or whisk
Spatula or big spoon
Toothpick or knife to check doneness (or just eyeball it, which I sometimes do if I can't find a toothpick in the drawer—where do they all go?)

If you’re short on equipment, bake it in a cast-iron skillet or even muffin tins—changes the crust, but still good. One time I baked it in a glass casserole dish and it took a bit longer; came out fine though. Also, if you don’t have parchment, just grease real well.

Pumpkin Cornbread with Cinnamon Honey Butter

How to Store It (Not That It Lasts Long Here)

This keeps on the counter in an airtight container for up to two days, though honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! If by some odd miracle you have leftovers, wrap ‘em up and freeze for a month. Just thaw and toast when a snack attack strikes. Also, try not to forget it in the back of the fridge (been there, done that, comes out smelling like science class).

How I Like to Serve It (And a Family Tradition or Two)

I love a fat slice warm from the oven, with way too much cinnamon honey butter. Sometimes I’ll serve it with chili or stew, but most often it’s just coffee or tea in the morning. My aunt heaps the honey butter and dunks into soup (messy but genius). On cold mornings, a little maple syrup drizzle is total comfort food. If you want more side ideas, check out this pumpkin bread from Smitten Kitchen—probably a cousin of my cornbread!

Pro Tips, Learned the Hard Way

Don’t overbake—even a few minutes too long and you’ll end up with dry, sad squares. I once tried rushing the cooling step and it fell apart, so patience is your friend here (for once).
Mix the honey butter by hand. I once tried it with a hand mixer and ended up redecorating the kitchen in buttery splatters. Fun, but not recommended.
If you don’t have brown sugar, use white and a tablespoon of maple syrup. Or just white; it’ll work, promise.

FAQ – Stuff Folks Actually Ask Me All the Time

Is this super sweet? Nope! It’s more breakfasty than dessert, but if you love sweet, bump up the brown sugar… or drizzle extra honey butter on top, like my niece does (she’s seven and, frankly, has the right idea).
Can I use fresh pumpkin? Definitely, just roast and mash it well. Canned is easier and, in my opinion, a little more consistent—unless you score a particularly tasty pumpkin at the market.
I don’t have cornmeal—what now? I mean, technically you could try coarse polenta, but it’ll change the texture a bit. Maybe try this cornbread guide from Serious Eats for a different approach. Or, if you have a box mix lying around, use half of it and half flour—just tinker till it looks good.
How do I make it gluten free? Good question—haven’t tested it a ton, but half gluten free flour, half cornmeal seems to work. Just don’t use only almond flour or you’ll get pumpkin corn granola (see above).
My batter is lumpy! Did I mess up? Not at all. Mine’s usually a bit lumpy, too. It’ll smooth out as it bakes. If it’s absolutely dry and clumpy, add a dash more milk (I do this maybe every other time, honestly).

Alright, if you made it this far… congrats on not getting distracted by a rogue squirrel on the fence or that never-ending pile of cheese wrappers in the fridge. Or was that just me? Anyway—happy baking! If you have questions, send ‘em over or drop by for a square and coffee sometime. (If you want a totally different take, check out Pinch of Yum's version—I borrowed some inspiration from there ages ago!)

Pumpkin Cornbread with Cinnamon Honey Butter