Some days are just begging for cookies that feel like a hug, and today was one of those days. I spotted that can of pumpkin purée hiding behind the oatmeal—totally forgot it’s even there—and thought, “Cookies, yes please.” Before I knew it, my kitchen was covered in flour and sugar, and I was mixing melted butter and sugar with spices and pumpkin like I’d found gold. These cookies are ridiculously forgiving. First batch I baked? Well, one turned into a sad blob, another puffed up like a little cloud. I may have sniffed the dough mid-mix and thought “too cozy, not sweet enough,” so I bumped up the cinnamon—and oh boy, that was a move. When they baked, the aroma filled every corner of the house. I forgot to set a timer once (yes, again), which gave me a slightly crisp edge on one cookie—chef’s surprise extra texture, I called it. Those golden edges and soft centers were so good I ate one with my coffee, standing by the oven before anyone else was even up. Slightly warm, crumbly, fragrant… total fall joy. Then came the frosting. Cream cheese, butter, powdered sugar, vanilla—whipped up until smooth. I slathered it on cookie tops that were still warm because discipline is overrated. Some frosting dripped down the sides. Yes, my shirt got a dot of it. But, friends, that’s baking right there. These cookies? They don’t care if your dough balls are a little lumpy, or if you accidentally grabbed the giant scoop instead of the small one. They shine even when imperfect. The crumbs on the floor aren’t mistakes—they’re snack traps for guests (or the cat). By the time I looked around, the batch was half gone, and I had bare cookie sheets. I’ll be making these again tomorrow, maybe with chopped pecans or chocolate chips if I’m feeling wild. But honestly, just pumpkin, spice, butter, and that frosting—that’s enough to make anyone whisper “winter’s coming” with a full heart.
Detailed Ingredients with measures
- 1 cup unsalted butter, softened
- 1 cup granulated sugar
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 1 teaspoon baking soda
- ½ teaspoon salt
- 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
- 1 large egg
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1 cup pumpkin purée, blotted with paper towel
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- For frosting: ½ cup butter, 8 oz cream cheese, 3 cups powdered sugar, 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Prep Time
About 25 minutes—enough to whip up dough, blot pumpkin, swirl in spices, and sneak a spoonful or two of frosting.
Cook Time, Total Time, Yield
Cook Time: 10–12 minutes until cookie tops are just set, edges gently golden and built for snacking. Total Time: Around 1 hour, including mixing, baking, frosting, and that inevitable first bite. Yield: Roughly 24 cookies—though “one more” often becomes several more before the pan even cools.
Detailed Directions and Instructions
Cream the butter, sugar, and spices
Start by whipping room-temperature butter with granulated sugar until it’s fluffy, cloud-like—the stuff of cookie dreams. Then toss in baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and pumpkin pie spice. At this point my hand mixer usually flings specks of cinnamon onto the counter, and I just wipe it up with a laugh and keep going.
Add egg, vanilla, and pumpkin
Beat in a large egg and vanilla until the yellow streaks vanish, then fold in the pumpkin puree. It’ll look mushy—don’t panic. It reminds me of that time I almost licked the beaters clean before washing, and yes, I regret nothing.
Stir in the flour
Gradually add the flour on medium speed until everything combines into a soft, slightly wet dough. It’s supposed to be cake-like, not cookie-dough-dry. If you get nervous and add extra flour (like I sometimes do), your cookies might come out more… lunch-cake-cookie-hybrid. Still edible. Still loved.
Scoop and bake
Use a heaping tablespoon or a medium scoop to drop dough balls a few inches apart on a parchment-lined tray. They don’t spread much, so don’t chuck half the tray weight onto them. Bake at 350°F until the tops are set and not glossy—just enough jiggle, like a gentle nod. Ten to twelve minutes is usually when my kitchen starts smelling like fall gave me a hug.
Cool, frost, and swoon
Let the cookies rest on the baking sheet for a few minutes so they don’t collapse like weary soldiers. Transfer them to a wire rack to cool till almost cool to the touch. Meanwhile, whip softened cream cheese and butter, then sift in powdered sugar and vanilla until thick and tangy-sweet. Frost each cookie generously—one swipe, two, go wild. If frosting drips down the sides, pinch yourself—this is cookie perfection.
Notes
No chilling needed—hallelujah
These cookies come together fast—no waiting around. If you’re impatient like me, this one’s a winner.
Blot pumpkin if you’re extra cautious
I sometimes blot the puree on a paper towel if it looks watery. It helps control moisture so your cookies don’t flatten flop.
Soft, cakey texture is the goal
They’re supposed to melt in your mouth, not chew. If they seem dense, check your flour measurement—or you might just need a hug and a second cookie.
Make-ahead and freeze options
Frosted or not, these cookies can chill or freeze beautifully. When you dig one out on a blah day, they taste like fall wrapped in a blanket.
Cook techniques
Drain that pumpkin puree
The very first time I made these cookies, I skipped draining the pumpkin because I thought, “how bad could extra moisture be?” The result? Puffy little cakes that stuck to each other in a sad clump. Now I blot the puree between paper towels before measuring, and the dough becomes thick and easy to scoop, not watery or sticky.
Melted butter makes the magic
Once I tried softening butter instead of melting it, out of sheer laziness. The cookies turned out oddly dry, not melt-in-your-mouth at all. Using melted butter stirred with sugars gives a glossy base that bakes up into chewy edges and soft, tender middles. It’s messier at first, but the payoff is real.
Skip the egg—on purpose
I accidentally cracked one in once, and the dough transformed into a cakey mess. The pumpkin already acts like an egg substitute, binding the dough without making it heavy. No egg means softer cookies that stay light but rich.
Don’t skimp on chilling
I once went straight from mixing to baking, and the dough spread like pancake batter, leaving me with flat, sad discs. Even a quick 30 minutes in the fridge helps, but a few hours (or overnight) is golden. The flavors deepen, the dough firms, and shaping turns from chaos to calm.
Roll with sugar and spice
Cinnamon sugar is what turns these cookies into snickerdoodle’s pumpkin cousin. I’ve knocked the sugar bowl over more than once, coating the counter in cinnamon clouds, but it’s worth every bit of cleanup. Rolling each ball generously means a sparkly, spiced crust that cracks just right in the oven.
Underbake slightly for softness
One batch I left in until they looked “done,” and they cooled into dry little pucks. Now I pull them when the edges are set but the centers look soft. They finish cooking on the sheet and settle into that dreamy, melt-in-your-mouth texture.
FAQ
Why do the cookies sometimes turn cakey?
Usually too much moisture—like not blotting the pumpkin, adding an egg, or over-measuring the flour. Keeping it balanced makes them chewy instead of fluffy.
Can I skip chilling the dough?
You can, but you’ll likely get flat cookies that spread too much. Chilling keeps them thick, chewy, and easier to handle.
How do I store them?
An airtight container at room temperature works for about three days, or refrigerate up to a week. For longer storage, freeze baked cookies or dough balls up to three months.
When are they done baking?
Pull them when edges look set but centers are still soft. They’ll firm up as they cool on the sheet, giving that melt-in-your-mouth finish.
Can I freeze the dough ahead?
Yes! Roll into balls, freeze on a tray, then store in a bag or container. Bake straight from frozen with just an extra minute or two in the oven.
Conclusion
You’ve just baked Molly’s melt-in-your-mouth pumpkin cookies, and wow—what a tender fall treat they are. The dough comes together in one messy bowl—soft-buttered, sugared, spiced with pumpkin pie spice and cinnamon, then tossed with an egg, vanilla, pumpkin puree, and flour. I’ll confess, my first attempt had sugar stuck in my hair, and the dough stuck so sweetly to the spoon that I ended up taste-testing (purely for quality control) right off the handle. Totally normal, promise. You bake them until the tops are just set but still jiggly in the middle—no judgement if you push on one and it quivers in defiance. While they’re cooling, I frequently lose track of time; the kitchen smells like a pumpkin-spice hug, and I may or may not have eaten one before the frosting even hits the cookie. The cream cheese frosting is pure, tangy sweetness—soft butter, cream cheese, powdered sugar, and vanilla whipped into gloriously plush icing. I always overspread it—edges are rarely neat, but that’s kind of half the charm. Every bite is like biting into a pillowy pumpkin dumpling with frosting melting on your tongue. The spices tease your senses, the pumpkin sneaks in velvet warmth, and the frosting says hello with glossy sweetness. I once dropped a frosted cookie, frosting side down, and laughed so hard I scraped it up with my finger and proclaimed it “extra flavor.” That cookie disappeared in two seconds flat, frosting and all. These keep their softness for days, especially if you stash them in the fridge or freeze extras—then a gentle thaw later, they feel freshly baked again. By the end, your countertop might be dusted with powdered sugar, you might have frosting on your cheek, and there’s a decent chance you’re already plotting a second batch. That’s the real celebration here—cozy, imperfect, a little sticky, and utterly irresistible.
More recipes suggestions and combination
Pumpkin Cookie Sandwiches with Maple Cream Filling
Take two of these soft cookies and sandwich a maple-cream center—like sandwiching sunshine. The one time I tried this, the filling squished out the sides and dripped onto my shirt. I didn’t mind. Bite-and-wipe. Delicious.
Pumpkin Cookie Truffles
Crumble leftover cookies, mix with a little frosting, roll into balls, and chill until firm. One rolled off the counter into the sink—melty, not mistake. Bite-sized decadence.
Pumpkin Cookie Pie Crust
Press crumbled cookies into a pie pan, bake lightly, then fill with spiced custard or pumpkin mousse. Mine cracked on the side—but that crack was just a free invitation to sneak a forkful. Serve the soft cookies straight up when you want cozy, creamy frosting. Pull out the sandwich version when maple calls. Truffles make afternoon snacking joyful. And if you’re channeling your inner pastry chef, the crust makes a dream base. Expect stray crumbs, frosting fingerprints, maybe a cheek-smeared smile—and isn’t that how memories (and kitchens) should feel?
