Recipe Archives:
Brown Butter Pumpkin Bread
Archived from UChicago Bite, ca 2019 — I first wrote this recipe/blog post for my college culinary magazine, and I still stand by it. I’ve had friends I haven’t spoken to in years reach out to me asking for it. It is THE GOLD STANDARD of pumpkin bread. It’s that good, I promise. Because the internet is an unreliable place, and the UChicago Bite website comes and goes with the years, I’ve created a backup. Just to make sure I never lose access to my favorite recipe, the one thing I am proudest of in the entire world, my only skill.
Sometimes I play with the exact spices or double the quantities below, and living in the UK, I now usually roast and prepare my own pumpkin puree (and decrease the amount of water to compensate for the added liquid from fresh pumpkin) but this recipe has stood the test of time. Enjoy!
Presented as originally written when I was a senior in college:
On September 1st this year, I decided to throw myself wholeheartedly into fall. It was time for scarves and sweaters and hot cider and colored leaves and apple pie and, of course, pumpkin spice. I think our pumpkin spice obsession is hilarious, but I also fundamentally think cinnamon sugar and ginger and nutmeg are warm and wonderful flavors to cope with the increasingly freezing Chicago fall-turned-winter.
Enter pumpkin bread.
I love all quick breads--banana, zucchini, ginger, pumpkin. The process is rarely more complicated than mixing ingredients, pouring into a loaf pan, and baking for about an hour. They’re virtually impossible to mess up, and taste like love. Easier than pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread is a warm hug, a quick and easy way to fuel the pumpkin spice obsession without shame. Bake some for your friends, for Thanksgiving, for dessert, for a snack, for yourself and yourself alone; there’s no wrong answer. Since it’s technically a vegetable bread, it absolutely counts as breakfast. I don’t judge.
Determined to master autumnal baking, I spent the quarter baking loaf after loaf, tweaking and testing recipes on unwitting, increasingly exasperated friends until coming up with what I can confidently call the Queen of Quick Breads, the Perfect Pumpkin Loaf, the Ultimate Pumpkin Bread Recipe. It’s easy and fluffy, heavily spiced and customizable: add nuts or chocolate chips, if you’d like, or swap out some or all of the white sugar with brown for a denser, more molasses-y loaf. (I prefer white sugar, because it makes the bread lighter and gives room for the spices to shine through, but I ran out too late into this round of baking to get more, and was pleasantly surprised by the brown).
The best part, though, is the warm, nutty depth from the browned butter--if you’ve never browned butter before, welcome to your new favorite cooking technique. Don’t be intimidated; it’s far simpler than it seems, and can transform any baked good into something magical. All you do is melt butter in a pan, and then let it keep bubbling until the solids turn toasty brown and the pan smells like caramel and popcorn. I’ve learned that the best way to tell if the butter is browned is by sound: once the bubbling and popping dies down, you’re good to go. If you’re really afraid of it, you could just melt the butter instead of browning, but I strongly advise against opting out. It’s worth it, I promise.
Makes 1 (9-inch) loaf
Preparation Time: 15 minutes
Baking Time: 60-75 minutes
Total time: ~1 ½ hours
Ingredients:
4 tbsp unsalted butter, chopped
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp fine salt
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
1/4 tsp ground allspice
1/2 tsp ground ginger
¼ tsp ground cardamom
1 - 1 1/4 cups sugar (white, brown, or a combination)
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 cup pumpkin puree (roughly ½ 15 ounce can)
½ tsp vanilla extract
2 large eggs
⅔ cup water
½ cup walnuts or chocolate chips (optional)
Instructions:
1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease a 9-inch loaf pan.
2. Brown the butter: Melt the butter in a saucepan over medium-high heat. Once it has melted, reduce the heat to medium and cook until the froth has sunk to the bottom, the butter has turned a rich, aromatic nutty brown, and enthusiastic bubbling has stopped. Quickly take the pan off the heat, as butter can burn quickly.
2. Whisk together the flour, salt, baking soda, baking powder, and spices in a medium bowl.
3. Whisk together the browned butter, oil, and sugar in a large bowl until well combined and fluffy, about 1 minute.
4. Stir in the pumpkin puree and vanilla. Add the eggs, one at a time, and mix until just incorporated.
5. Add the flour mixture, water, and nuts or chocolate chips (if using), and stir to combine.
6. Pour the batter into the pan; bake for 60-75 minutes, until a toothpick comes out clean. Let cool and enjoy!
Adapted from:
https://epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/pumpkin-bread-367512
https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1017797-pumpkin-bread-with-brown-butter-and-bourbon
The Cove: Content Warnings
The Cove is a horror novel, and with that comes expectations of fear and discomfort. However, I want my readers to be aware of what they’re getting into, because (in my opinion) the best horror is experienced safely. As someone who occasionally needs a heads up about content before tackling a new piece of media, I get it, and want to extend that same option to anyone who might need or want it, too! I’ve tried to be thorough but relatively spoiler-free. That said, read on at your own discretion, and feel free to consult or ignore this page at your own pace and preference.
It is important to note that while The Cove is not immediately about the Troubled Teen Industrial Complex and its Wilderness Camps, the basic premise of the novel does at times resemble it. It is not my intention to make light of these very real, very traumatic experiences. Please exercise caution while reading if this might be upsetting to you.
· Religious trauma
· Homophobia (mentioned)
· Transphobia (mentioned)
· Animal death (not the cat, he’s fine)
· Death, murder, and ritual sacrifice (varying degrees of graphicness)
· Child death
· Violence and gore
· Graphic depictions of panic attacks/anxiety disorder
· Mutilation (mostly off-page)
· Gaslighting
· References to substance abuse and addiction
· Underage drinking
· Parental neglect
We’re PM official!
I am SO EXCITED to share that my adult debut novel, EVEN YOUR BONES WOULD DO, will be published by Berkley (US) and Daphne Press (UK) in early 2027.
As a writer, I should have eloquent thoughts about this, but it’s mostly just a lot of screaming right now. Thank you thank you thank you to my editors, Gabbie Pachon and Davi Lancett, and my agent, Clara Foster, for taking a chance on a weird little gothic horror debut that I pitched, barely-titled, as “Bluebeard with Lesbian Ghosts.” I couldn’t be more excited for it to have found such a perfect home on either side of the Atlantic, and to get to share it with readers. This book is very personal to me, and I am so, so proud of it. I hope you love it as much as I do.
BONES is a Gothic horror Bluebeard retelling, deeply queer and deeply influenced by my own background in Gothic literature and fairytale scholarship. It is pointedly NOT a children’s book (sorry to everyone who sees my MPhil in Kidlit and assumes I write children’s books……….. not this one), but it is a response to the haunted house stories and folklore I was raised on. I’m talking Rebecca, The Haunting of Hill House, The Bloody Chamber, Jane Eyre, and more than a little bit of Robin McKinley’s Rose Daughter. I’ve left a lot of myself in the foundations of Thornwood House, and I hope readers find it as cathartic as I do.
If you’re asking “what’s it about?” and “Bluebeard with Lesbian Ghosts” isn’t enough for you, here’s a very rough synopsis:
April Harker lives a small life. A small life in a small Massachusetts town with small sums for the fairy stories she sells and small pleasures since her parents lost all their money in the 1929 crash. Until, one day, Julius Thackeray arrives. With his unsettling blue-black beard and his shiny, shiny shoes, Thackeray promises to marry April. To take her to his townhouse right outside Boston, make her stories famous, show her the world.
But April should know from her fairy stories that the man on your doorstep promising the world is too good to be believed. Thackeray’s eyes are cold, his fingers bruising. The home is Thornwood House: a sprawling mansion in the middle of nowhere, with hallways that lead different places on different days and two silent-footed servants as her only company. The servants, her husband—and another presence. One who leaves lipstick-stained teacups in the library. Who can be seen only obliquely in the mirror. Who, on the day that Thackeray deposits a ring of keys in April’s hand as he sweeps off for a business trip, guides April to unlock the very chamber which hides the horrifying secret at the heart of Thornwood House.
The presence who, it turns out, is a woman, a previous wife: with soft hands and a pointed chin and bright eyes. Marie, who must help get April out, out, out, before she too is subsumed by the grim fairytale which traps all the wives of Thornwood House within.