Canned Pumpkin vs. Fresh: Which Is Best?

Fresh and seasonal is usually the “rule.” But when it comes to pumpkin purée, canned pumpkin often beats homemade, and not just for convenience. Here’s why, plus a savory bread pudding that proves it.

A recent piece in Bon Appétit extolling the virtues of Libby’s canned pumpkin over homemade took me back to my culinary school internship in the pastry kitchen of a busy gastropub.

My supervisor was a terrific pastry chef, who was also an excellent teacher. I lean into tips and techniques he taught me all the time.

One of them involved Libby’s canned pumpkin.

Typically, we made everything from scratch, and during my time there, I turned out gallons of ice cream in several flavors, apple pies by the dozen, pâte à choux for gougères and profiteroles, and all manner of sauces. I fashioned cornets out of parchment paper to daintily drizzle garnishes and went through many pastry bags.

Why My Pastry Chef Chose Canned Pumpkin

So, scratch baking was our default. But my pastry chef wasn’t dogmatic about it.

One of the seasonal desserts on the menu was bread pudding using leftover brioche bread and buns from the main kitchen soaked in a rich pumpkin custard.

Baked in individual ramekins, it was easy to plate during a busy service – just warm up a serving as needed, top with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, drizzle with caramel sauce, and serve. It was indulgent, yet homey, a nice fit for the restaurant’s vibe.

Of course, the ice cream and sauce were made from scratch. But when it came to the custard, we reached for Libby’s.

The restaurant’s sous chef got sniffy about this, but my pastry chef was adamant. In this case, canned pumpkin was better.

Deep Freeze: Frozen Food Is Always Cool →

The Problem with Fresh Pumpkin Purée

We’d first tried the dessert with winter squash we’d roasted and puréed, and the results were … okay.

Fresh winter squash can vary a lot, making it an unpredictable ingredient for baking. Some have mild flavor, while others taste more robust, and the flesh ranges in color from bright orange to light tangerine. The consistency can be stringy and watery, so even after you roast, scoop, and blend the flesh, you’ll need to cook it down to remove some of that excess moisture and concentrate its flavor.

(If you do want to roast a pumpkin for homemade purée, this is the safest, easiest way to do it and exactly what I did with the pie pumpkin pictured here.)

What Makes Libby’s Canned Pumpkin Different

After a few tries with fresh squash, the pastry chef decided it was too laborious for meh results. So he changed it up to canned pumpkin, specifically Libby’s, with its bold, naturally sweet pumpkin flavor, a rusty hue worthy of ‘70s shag carpet, and smooth texture that incorporated beautifully into the custard.

And as canned goods go, it’s hard to beat. That consistency comes down to a proprietary strain of Dickinson pumpkins grown on family farms specifically for Libby’s in Morton, Ill., for the last century. These pumpkins are far bigger than the sugar pie pumpkins you find in supermarkets this time of year, with a tan-colored rind like butternut squash.

Do Your Brand’s Recipes Need Updating?

That lesson stuck with me. Choosing an ingredient isn’t about what sounds best. It’s about what delivers the same flavor, color, and texture every time someone makes a recipe.

That’s the standard I bring to recipe development for brands: I test with ingredients your audience really buys, account for how they vary, and make the call (fresh, frozen, canned) that brings a reliable result for home cooks. That builds trust in your brand.

Taking a cue from that long-ago dessert, here’s my savory bread pudding with canned pumpkin and, for added convenience, frozen spinach. This works as a vegetarian main dish or a side dish on a holiday table.