Let Me Tell You About My Pumpkin French Toast Casserole Adventure

You know how sometimes you just want to impress your family (or, let's be honest, yourself) with something that seems fancy but secretly takes almost no effort? That’s basically how I got hooked on this Pumpkin French Toast Casserole. First time I tried it, I was running late, had half a loaf of slightly sad bread, and a can of pumpkin staring at me from the pantry. I figured, why not? Now it’s kind of a tradition in my house when the weather starts turning crisp. Or, like, when I just want the house to smell like a fall candle exploded—in the best way.

Oh, and side note: the first time I made this, I totally forgot the sugar and it turned out almost savory. My kids were not amused, but honestly I didn’t hate it. Anyway, onward!

Why I Keep Coming Back To This Recipe

I make this when I have friends over for brunch because it’s dead simple and you can put it together the night before. My family goes crazy for it because it’s basically dessert for breakfast (don’t tell my doctor). Sometimes, if I'm feeling lazy, I just throw it in the oven and go back to bed for twenty more minutes. Plus, if you’ve ever tried flipping a million slices of French toast individually—well, this is just so much easier. (Less flipping, more coffee sipping.)

Biggest win? It reheats like a dream, though it never really lasts more than a day here. And if you're out of pumpkin pie spice, trust me, I've just lobbed in some cinnamon and nutmeg and it's still pretty tasty.

What You’ll Want to Have (But Don’t Stress About Exact Brands)

1 loaf of day-old bread (Brioche, challah, or whatever’s leftover—honestly, I once used hamburger buns and lived to tell the tale!)
1 cup pumpkin puree (Canned is fine; my grandmother swore by Libby's, but any will do.)
5 large eggs
1 ½ cups milk (Whole milk is rich, but I’ve used oat milk when I was out. It works!)
½ cup brown sugar (Light or dark—no one’s checking.)
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 teaspoons pumpkin pie spice (Or just mix 1 ½ teaspoon cinnamon, ¼ teaspoon nutmeg, ¼ teaspoon clove. I eyeball it, honestly.)
½ teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons melted butter (Or skip it if you’re feeling virtuous. I never do.)
Optional: Chopped pecans, walnuts, or chocolate chips for topping

Let’s Get Cooking (Here’s How I Actually Do It)

Prep your bread: Slice or tear the bread into chunky cubes, about 1 ½ inches. I just use my hands, because who needs more dirty knives?
Grease a baking dish: 9x13 inches is standard, but I’ve used a roasting pan in a pinch. Butter or nonstick spray—doesn’t really matter.
Dump the bread: Toss the cubes into the dish. If some are bigger than others, don’t sweat it. Rustic is a vibe.
Mix the wet stuff: In a big bowl, whisk together eggs, milk, pumpkin puree, brown sugar, vanilla, pumpkin pie spice, and salt. This is where I usually sneak a taste (no judgement—it’s basically pumpkin custard).
Pour it on: Evenly pour the pumpkin mixture all over the bread. Press down gently with your hands or a spatula so it soaks up the goodness. If it looks a bit swampy, that’s ok—it’ll bake up fluffy.
Stash it in the fridge: Ideally overnight, but I’ve done just 30 minutes when time’s tight. It still tasted great; maybe just a little less custardy.
Top it off: Drizzle melted butter over the top. Scatter nuts or chocolate chips if you like. Or both. No one’s judging.
Bake: 350°F (180°C) for about 45-55 minutes, until puffed and golden. If you like it a bit gooey in the middle, go for less time. You do you.
Cool slightly: (If you can wait—I almost never do.) Serve warm, straight from the pan.

Random Notes That Might Save You Headaches

Turns out, if your bread is too fresh, the casserole can get kind of soggy. So, actually, I find it works better if the bread is at least a little stale.
Don’t try to use pumpkin pie filling instead of puree—it’s way too sweet. Trust me, I learned the hard way.
Sometimes the edges look darker than the middle; that’s just the sugar caramelizing. Tastes great.

What I've Experimented With (And What Flopped)

Once I swapped in cinnamon raisin bread—tasted like autumn in a bite. Highly recommend.
Tried coconut milk instead of regular milk; it made it a bit heavier, but kind of tropical? Not sure I’d do it again, but maybe you’ll like it.
Skipped the nuts for a nut-free version and added dried cranberries. Pretty good, actually.
Tried to make it with gluten-free sandwich bread once—didn’t hold up very well, but maybe a sturdier GF bread would work.

Don’t Have Fancy Equipment? No Worries

All you really need is a baking dish and a mixing bowl (I’ve used a soup pot before; don’t judge). If you don’t have a whisk, a fork works fine—just takes a bit longer. And if you’re missing a spatula, your hands are built-in tools, right?

Storing Leftovers (But Good Luck Having Any)

Store any extras (lol) in the fridge—covered—up to three days. It reheats well in the microwave or oven, though honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day. I think it tastes better the next morning, cold, but that's probably just me.

How I Usually Serve It (With a Little Flair)

I like to dust mine with powdered sugar and pour a little warm maple syrup over the top. My kids insist on whipped cream. For special mornings, we’ll add a side of crispy bacon—something about that salty-sweet combo is just yes. Sometimes I set out bowls of berries. But if it's just me, I eat it straight from the pan with a fork. No regrets.

Pro Tips (Learned the Hard Way, Honestly)

I once tried rushing the soaking step and regretted it because half the bread stayed dry. Give it at least 30 minutes to soak up the custard, or you’ll be sad.
If you see the top getting too brown, loosely cover with foil for the last 10 minutes. I always forget and then run around looking for foil at the last second.
Don’t overbake! It’ll keep cooking a little after you pull it out. Better a little under than over, in my (strong) opinion.

FAQs (What My Friends and Family Have Actually Asked Me)

Can I make this ahead of time?: Yep! I usually assemble it the night before, so all I have to do is bake it in the morning. Sometimes, if I’m feeling especially bold, I’ll even bake it the night before and reheat slices in the toaster oven.
What if I don’t have pumpkin pie spice?: I’ve used just cinnamon, a dash of nutmeg, and a pinch of ginger. It’s honestly close enough. Here’s a DIY blend I like: Simply Recipes Pumpkin Pie Spice.
Can I freeze it?: Technically yes, but the texture gets a bit weird on thawing—kinda soggy. If you’re okay with that, go for it. Otherwise, just eat it within a couple days. Life’s short.
Is there a dairy-free version?: Sure is! Sub in any plant-based milk and use coconut oil instead of butter. I found this guide handy: Minimalist Baker’s Dairy-Free Butter. Just don’t expect it to taste exactly the same, but it’s still good.
What bread works best?: Honestly, anything sturdy. Brioche and challah make it extra rich, but French bread or even plain sandwich bread (in a pinch) works. Avoid anything super soft, though, or you’ll end up with bread mush. Trust me.

If you want to see how someone else does it (and maybe pick up a trick or two), check out Sally’s Baking Addiction—I’ve borrowed a few ideas from her over the years, not gonna lie.

Anyway, hope your kitchen smells like a pumpkin patch by the end of all this. Let me know how it goes—or what wild bread experiments you try. Happy brunching!

Pumpkin French Toast Casserole