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Pumpkin Gooey Butter Cake — Because October Demands Pumpkin Spice and I Am Not Above It

Halloween and the church fall festival, take two. The same costumes — Moses, Esther, David with sock slingshots — the same cake walk, the same caramel apples that I made from scratch because I made them from scratch last year and tradition is tradition even when the tradition is only one year old. This year I also made pumpkin spice cookies because October demands pumpkin spice and I am not above seasonal trends when the seasonal trends involve butter and sugar and the warm embrace of cinnamon.

Marcus was too cool for the fall festival this year, or so he said, but he showed up anyway because Marcus always shows up. He helped me set up the food booth and then disappeared into the crowd of teenagers who congregate in the parking lot during church events, performing the ancient ritual of being too old for the children's activities and too young for the adults, occupying the in-between space that is adolescence with the practiced nonchalance of a boy who will be eighteen in three weeks.

November is next week and with it comes the cascade of events that define the end of my year: Marcus's birthday, Thanksgiving, Advent, Christmas. The cascade starts with Marcus turning eighteen, which is a number that should not be allowed to happen to a boy I am certain was just learning to walk last Thursday. Eighteen. Legal adult. Voter. Almost college student. Still my baby. Always my baby. The number changes. The relationship does not.

Calvin and I started planning the Thanksgiving menu, which is the same menu it always is because the Thanksgiving menu is sacred text and I do not edit sacred text. He suggested adding a new side dish. I gave him a look. He withdrew the suggestion. We have been married twenty-five years and he still occasionally forgets that the Thanksgiving menu is not a democracy. It is a monarchy. I am the monarch. The menu is the constitution. The constitution does not change.

Made a pot of loaded baked potato soup this week because the evenings are cool enough for soup and because I had potatoes that were starting to grow eyes, and potatoes with eyes are potatoes with ambition, and I respect ambition, but not in my pantry. The soup was thick and creamy with bacon and cheese and sour cream and chives, and it tasted like November sounds — quiet and warm and full of anticipation for the feasting to come.

The leaves are turning along Forestdale Road. Red and gold and orange, the colors of a kitchen in motion — the red of cayenne, the gold of cornbread, the orange of candied yams. The world outside my window looks like my table. Or maybe my table has always looked like the world. Maybe the kitchen is not separate from the seasons. Maybe the kitchen is the season. Maybe every meal I make is a leaf turning, a color changing, a year moving forward one plate at a time.

I made pumpkin spice cookies for the fall festival because October demanded it, and October always gets what it wants — but if I’m honest, what I really wanted was something richer, something that leaned all the way into the season the way the red and gold leaves on Forestdale Road do, without apology. This pumpkin gooey butter cake is exactly that: butter and cream cheese and pumpkin and warm spice pressed into a pan and pulled out smelling like the kitchen I want to live in from the first cool evening in September straight through to the last candle of Advent. Make it for a crowd, make it for yourself, make it because Marcus will be eighteen in three weeks and the cascade of everything is already starting and you deserve a thick square of something sweet before it does.

Pumpkin Gooey Butter Cake

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 16

Ingredients

  • Crust
  • 1 box (15.25 oz) yellow cake mix
  • 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted
  • 1 large egg
  • Filling
  • 8 oz cream cheese, softened
  • 1 can (15 oz) pure pumpkin puree
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted
  • 3 cups powdered sugar
  • 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
  • Pinch of salt

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking pan with butter or non-stick spray and set aside.
  2. Make the crust. In a medium bowl, combine the yellow cake mix, melted butter, and egg. Stir until a thick dough forms. Press the dough evenly into the bottom of the prepared pan to form the crust layer.
  3. Make the filling. In a large bowl, beat the softened cream cheese with a hand mixer on medium speed until smooth and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add the pumpkin puree and beat until fully incorporated. Add the eggs one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Add the vanilla extract and melted butter and beat to combine.
  4. Add sugar and spices. Reduce mixer speed to low and gradually add the powdered sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, cloves, and salt. Beat until the filling is smooth and creamy with no lumps.
  5. Assemble. Pour the pumpkin filling evenly over the crust layer and spread to the edges with a spatula.
  6. Bake. Bake for 40—45 minutes, until the edges are set and lightly golden and the center still has a slight jiggle. Do not overbake — the gooey center is the point.
  7. Cool and serve. Allow the cake to cool completely in the pan, at least 1 hour, before cutting into squares. Dust with additional powdered sugar before serving if desired. Store covered at room temperature for up to 2 days or refrigerated for up to 5 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 385 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 54g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 290mg

Loretta Simms
About the cook who shared this
Loretta Simms
Week 60 of Loretta’s 30-year story · Birmingham, Alabama
Loretta is a fifty-six-year-old pastor's wife in Birmingham, Alabama, who has been feeding her church and her community for thirty-four years. She lost her teenage son Jeremiah in a car accident, and she cooked through the grief because that is what Loretta does — she feeds people. Every funeral, every homecoming, every Wednesday night supper. If you are hurting, Loretta will show up at your door with a casserole and she will not leave until you eat.

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