warm-toned image of bread and butter pudding without eggs in a slightly chipped ceramic baking dish.
warm-toned image of bread and butter pudding without eggs in a slightly chipped ceramic baking dish.

I didn’t grow up eating bread and butter pudding.
I grew up eating whatever was left.

Which is honestly the same thing, spiritually.

The first time I made bread and butter pudding without eggs, it wasn’t some big plan. It was one of those end-of-the-week moments where the bread was stale, the milk was questionable but still smelled fine (important distinction), and I wanted something sweet that didn’t involve me leaving my apartment or putting on real pants.

Queens winters will do that to you.

So I stood there, holding half a loaf of sad bread, thinking—I could throw this out… or I could turn it into something cozy and dramatic.

I chose dramatic.


A Quick Detour About Stale Bread (Stay With Me)

You ever notice how food that starts out as a mistake ends up being the best stuff?

Stale bread. Overripe bananas. Leftover rice. That one hoodie you accidentally shrunk and now wear all the time.

Bread and butter pudding was literally invented because someone, somewhere, refused to waste food. And honestly? Respect.

But here’s the thing—most recipes assume eggs are just there. Like air. Like salt.

They are not always there.

And sometimes you just don’t want them.


Why Make Bread and Butter Pudding Without Eggs?

Because:

  • You’re out of eggs
  • You don’t eat eggs
  • Eggs weird you out (no judgment)
  • Or you just want something softer, gentler, more pudding-y and less custard-y

Eggless bread pudding has a different vibe. It’s creamier. Less firm. More spoonable. Like it wants to be eaten on the couch with a blanket and zero expectations.

Also—important—it’s basically impossible to mess up.

Which I appreciate deeply.


What You Actually Need (No Fancy Stuff)

I’m not doing a strict ingredient list. This is vibes-based cooking.

But generally:

  • Stale bread (white, brioche, challah, whatever’s judging you from the counter)
  • Butter (or plant butter)
  • Milk (regular or plant-based)
  • Sugar (white, brown, whatever)
  • Vanilla
  • Cinnamon or nutmeg if you’re feeling cozy
  • Raisins or not—this is controversial territory

That’s it. No eggs. No stress.


How It Comes Together (Casual Chaos Version)

You butter the bread. Generously. Don’t be shy—this is not the moment.

Layer it into a baking dish like you’re making a soft, carb-heavy lasagna.

Sprinkle sugar. Toss raisins if you’re on Team Raisin (I am, fight me).

Heat milk with sugar and vanilla—just warm, not boiling. You’re not proving anything.

Pour it over the bread slowly, like you’re tucking it in for a nap.

Let it sit. This part matters. The bread needs a minute to absorb its new personality.

Then bake until the top looks golden and the center still jiggles a little—because pudding, not cake.


The Smell Will Ruin You (In a Good Way)

I swear—this is the kind of dessert smell that makes neighbors suspicious.

Butter. Sugar. Warm milk. Cinnamon drifting through the apartment like it pays rent.

I once opened a window because it felt unfair to keep it all to myself.


A Very Real Conversation I Had With Myself

Me: “I’ll just have a small piece.”
Also me: cuts a square the size of Queens
Me again: “Okay but tomorrow I’ll eat better.”

Tomorrow is a liar.


Bread and Butter Pudding Without Eggs Is a Mood

It’s not flashy or not trendy.

It’s not getting 12 million views on TikTok.

But it’s comforting in a way that feels honest. Like someone put a sweater on your feelings.

You don’t eat this dessert to impress people. You eat it because the day was long and you deserve softness.


Things I’ve Added Over Time (Some Worked, Some Didn’t)

Worked:

  • Orange zest
  • Cardamom
  • Almond slices
  • Coconut milk

Did not work:

  • Too much nutmeg (respect nutmeg)
  • Savory bread (I was curious, okay?)

Experiment. This dessert forgives you.


Queens Food Brain Kicking In

Living in Queens means you’re constantly surrounded by food from everywhere. Fancy bakeries. Hole-in-the-wall spots. Aunties who somehow know when you’re hungry.

This pudding feels like it belongs here. It’s humble. Adaptable. Not trying to be something it’s not.


If You Want to Go Down a Food Rabbit Hole

This site always makes me nostalgic:
👉 https://smittenkitchen.com

And this one reminds me why simple food matters:
👉 https://www.bbcgoodfood.com

Proceed carefully. You’ll get hungry.


Final Thoughts (Not a Wrap-Up, Relax)

If you’ve got bread that’s past its prime and a craving you can’t explain, make this.

Bread and butter pudding without eggs isn’t about rules or tradition or perfection. It’s about using what you have and ending up with something warm and kind.