Years ago, at my son’s kindergarten Thanksgiving celebration, the parents were asked to bring in dishes, and one mom brought a pumpkin cake. It wasn’t fancy—just a simple, square slice with soft cream cheese frosting—but something about it stood out. My son took one bite, looked up at me wide-eyed, and said, “This is the best cake ever.”
From that moment on, it became his cake—no birthday, holiday, or cozy weekend at home felt complete without it.
The recipe is still handwritten and smudged with flour in my recipe box, and every time I bake it, I’m transported back to that tiny classroom, the scent of crayons and pumpkin in the air, and my little boy.
Now, every year when the scent of cinnamon and pumpkin fills the kitchen, it’s more than just a dessert—it’s a little reminder of that tiny classroom, my son's joy, and the unexpected ways family traditions are born.