Pumpkin Bars with Cream Cheese Frosting Recipe

Imagine biting into a soft, spiced pumpkin bar—warm from the oven, just barely cooled—and then that first swipe of tangy cream cheese frosting melting onto your tongue. It’s not just dessert. It’s a hug in bite form.

These bars? They’re the reason people forget they’re on a diet. The kind you make when you need something comforting, impressive, and ridiculously easy—all at once.

You don’t need fancy tools. No stand mixer? Fine. No piping bag? Even better. Just a bowl, a spatula, and the willingness to let the kitchen smell like autumn decided to move in.

There’s magic in how simple this is. You whisk wet things. You stir dry things. You fold them together. Bake. Cool. Frost. Cut. Done.

No kneading. No chilling. No tempering chocolate. Just pure, unapologetic pumpkin joy—with frosting that clings just right, not too sweet, not too sour. Perfectly balanced.

And honestly? That frosting is finger-licking irresistible. It doesn’t slide off. It doesn’t crack. It settles in like it was meant to be there all along.

I’ve made these for potlucks, baby showers, last-minute gift baskets, and midnight snacks after a long day. They never fail. Not once.

They’re the dessert version of your favorite sweater—familiar, cozy, and somehow always exactly what you needed.

Ingredients Needed for the Recipe

• 2 cups granulated sugar – This isn’t just sweetness; it’s structure. It helps the bars stay tender while giving them that slight caramelized edge.
• 1 cup vegetable or canola oil – Don’t skip this. Oil keeps the bars moist for days. Butter would make them dense. Oil makes them cloud-like.
• 15 ounces pumpkin puree (not pie filling) – Pure pumpkin. Plain. Unadorned. Let it speak for itself. The spices come later.
• 4 eggs, room temperature – Cold eggs? They’ll curdle the batter. Room temp? Smooth, even texture. Always.
• 2 cups all-purpose flour – Just enough to hold everything together without turning it into bread.
• 2 teaspoons baking soda – The quiet hero. Makes the bars rise just enough to be pillowy, not cakey.
• 2 teaspoons pumpkin pie spice – Cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, ginger—bundled into one fragrant whisper of fall.
• ½ teaspoon salt – Not for taste alone. It wakes up every other flavor like an alarm clock.
• 8 ounces cream cheese, softened – Cold cream cheese? You’ll get lumps. Softened? Silky. Smooth. Dreamy.
• ½ cup butter, softened – Adds richness. Depth. A little luxury beneath that sugary top.
• 2 cups powdered sugar – The sweet blanket. Dusts the bars like the first snowfall of November.
• 1 teaspoon vanilla – Not just flavor. It ties the whole thing together like a ribbon.
• ⅛ teaspoon kosher salt – A tiny pinch. Barely noticeable. But take it out, and suddenly… something’s missing.

How to make Pumpkin Bars with Cream Cheese Frosting?

Preheat and Prep

Turn the oven to 350°F. While it heats, grease that 9x13 pan like you’re preparing for royalty—every corner, every edge.

Don’t just spray it. Grab paper towels, smear a little butter or oil around, then dust lightly with flour. You want those bars to release like they were born to be free.

Mix the Wet Ingredients

In a big bowl, beat the eggs, sugar, oil, and pumpkin together until smooth. Not fluffy—just blended. Like a gentle swirl of orange silk.

This isn’t about whipping air into it. It’s about creating a base so moist, it feels like a secret.

Whisk the Dry Ingredients

In another bowl, toss in the flour, baking soda, pumpkin pie spice, and salt. Whisk like you’re trying to wake them up.

Make sure the spices are evenly distributed—you don’t want one bite tasting like cinnamon bomb and the next like plain cardboard.

Combine and Bake

Gently pour the dry stuff into the wet. Stir with a spatula—not a mixer—until just combined. Don’t overmix. Seriously. One more stir than needed? Tough bars. Sad bars.

Pour it all into the pan. Smooth the top with the back of a spoon. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Imperfection is part of its charm.

Bake for 28–30 minutes. The edges will pull away slightly. The center should jiggle like jelly, not slosh. Insert a toothpick—it should come out clean, but not dry.

Cool Completely

This is non-negotiable.

If you frost warm bars, the frosting melts into a sad puddle. And no one wants a soggy topping.

Let it sit on the counter for at least two hours. Or, if you’re patient, leave it overnight. Better yet, go for a walk. Come back. The bars will be waiting, calm and ready.

Beat the Frosting

Now, the star. Cream cheese and butter, beaten on high until creamy. Not grainy. Not lumpy. Just… velvety.

Add the powdered sugar slowly. Like adding confetti. Then vanilla. Then that tiny pinch of salt. Beat again. Until it looks like clouds caught in a jar.

Stop before it gets too airy. Overbeating turns it into whipped cream soup. And we don’t want that.

Frost and Slice

Spread the frosting like you’re painting a canvas. Thick. Even. Go all the way to the edges.

Use an offset spatula if you have one. If not? The back of a butter knife works fine. Don’t worry about perfection.

Chill for 30 minutes. Just to set. Then cut into squares—small ones, if you’re sharing. Big ones, if you’re not.

Each piece should look like a little pumpkin-shaped dream. Golden-brown bottom, snowy white top. Fall in a bar.

Tips

Room temperature ingredients aren’t a suggestion—they’re a rule. Cold cream cheese fights you. Warm eggs blend better. Respect the process.

If your pumpkin puree is watery, drain it. Place it in a fine-mesh strainer over a bowl for 15 minutes. Nobody wants a soupy bar.

Store these in the fridge, but bring them to room temperature before serving. Cold frosting tastes flat. Room-temp frosting? Magical.

Use a sharp knife dipped in hot water to slice cleanly. Wipe it between cuts. No crumbly messes. Just neat little rectangles of happiness.

Want extra crunch? Sprinkle chopped pecans or toasted walnuts over the frosting before chilling. It adds texture. And a little grown-up elegance.

What’s the Best Way to Serve These Bars?

They’re amazing on their own. But pair them with a dollop of whipped cream and a drizzle of caramel? Oh, now you’re talking.

Serve them alongside a steaming mug of spiced coffee or apple cider. The warmth of the drink balances the cool cream cheese perfectly.

For parties, arrange them on a wooden board with dried orange slices, cinnamon sticks, and maybe a few edible flowers. They look like autumn had a tea party.

They’re also surprisingly great with ice cream. Vanilla, of course. A scoop on top, let it melt just a little. You’re welcome.

And yes—they’re fantastic as a breakfast treat. Don’t act surprised. A small square with your morning brew? That’s self-care disguised as dessert.

Can I Make These Ahead of Time?

Yes. And you absolutely should.

Make the bars a day ahead. Cool completely. Wrap the whole pan tightly in plastic wrap, then foil. Keep in the fridge.

Make the frosting the same day you plan to serve. Fresh frosting tastes brighter. It holds its shape better. It’s happier.

Assemble just before serving. Spread the frosting. Chill again for 30 minutes. Then cut. Your guests will think you spent hours.

These freeze beautifully—unfrosted. Wrap the baked bars tightly. Freeze up to three months. Thaw overnight in the fridge. Frost when ready. Magic restored.

Pro tip: Label the container with “DO NOT EAT BEFORE FROSTING” in bold letters. Trust me. Someone will try to sneak a bite.

Can I Swap Out the Cream Cheese Frosting?

Technically? Yes. Should you? Maybe not.

That cream cheese frosting is the soul of this recipe. It’s the contrast—the tang against the sweet, the richness against the spice.

But if you’re dairy-free? Try a coconut cream frosting with a splash of lemon juice. It won’t be the same—but it’ll still be delicious.

Or go for a maple glaze: mix powdered sugar with real maple syrup and a touch of cinnamon. Drizzle it thin. Let it drip down the sides. Rustic. Elegant.

Or—if you’re feeling wild—swap it for a brown butter icing. Toasted butter, brown sugar, vanilla. Deep, nutty, almost savory. Still fall. Just different.

Just don’t use regular buttercream. Too sweet. Too heavy. It drowns the pumpkin. This isn’t a chocolate cake. Let the pumpkin breathe.