So, This Pizza Is Honestly My Autumn Obsession

Okay, so you know how there are those few months of the year when the world smells like damp leaves and everyone starts talking about pumpkin everything (seriously, pumpkin in coffee still confuses me), that’s when I inevitably start craving this Autumn Pizza. I stumbled into this recipe the way you trip over a dog toy in the hallway: sort of accidental but totally destined. We were having one of those “what do I do with half a butternut squash and leftover cheese in the fridge” situations, and bam—pizza happened. My kid called it “October on bread,” which, honestly, is a title I wish I’d thought of first.

Why I Keep Making This On Repeat

I make this when cozy is the vibe and I don’t want to fuss with anything fancy. My family goes wild for it—probably because melty cheese and caramelized squash are basically autumn’s answer to happiness. The first time, it looked a little rustic (read: slightly lopsided), but, you know, nobody cared. In fact, my picky neighbor still asks for the recipe—and she never eats what I cook (maybe I added extra garlic that day?).

Also, I’ve discovered that if you’ve got friends coming round impromptu and you don’t want to stress, this pizza hides every possible mistake. It’s the slipper socks of pizza. Does that make sense? Anyway, even my uncle, who claims he doesn’t like vegetables, eats the crust crumbs off his plate.

Here’s What You’ll Need (With Some Workarounds)

1 pizza dough ball (store-bought is fine—actually, I usually use Trader Joe’s, but homemade works if you’re feeling energetic)
1/2 small butternut squash, peeled & thinly sliced (acorn squash is good in a pinch, even sweet potato if that’s all you’ve got)
A handful of shredded mozzarella (honestly, any melt-y cheese works—I’ve used cheddar, fontina, even a random Brie from the back of the fridge…)
50g goat cheese (or ricotta, or skip entirely and just double the mozzarella—nobody will know)
Small red onion, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon fresh sage, chopped (if I’m out of sage, I sometimes tear up some arugula at the end instead. Not the same, but tasty)
Olive oil (good stuff, but don’t break the bank)
Salt, pepper (I always eyeball this—probably too lazily, but it’s not rocket science)
Optional: Crushed red pepper flakes, honey drizzle for post-bake

How I Actually Cook This Autumn Pizza (Messy Bits Included)

Preheat your oven as hot as it’ll go. Like, 475°F or higher. If you’ve got a pizza stone, great, put it in now. If not, a regular baking sheet upside-down works. (This is where I regret ever buying a cheap oven… the temperature’s never honest.)
Roll out your dough on a floured surface. It will probably spring back annoyingly, so just give it a minute to rest—like us all on a Monday. Stretch it with your hands if you want a more rustic look, which, ahem, I always end up with anyway.
Drizzle the dough with olive oil, and kind of scatter-swipe it around with your fingers. (This is when it feels properly homemade in my opinion.)
Layer on the squash slices and red onion. Doesn’t need to be picture-perfect (mine never is), just kind of overlap them so every bite has a little bit of both.
Sprinkle over the mozzarella, then dollop or crumble the goat cheese in little blobs. Season everything with salt, pepper, and most of your chopped sage. Save a pinch for after baking. If you like a bit of heat, toss on some red pepper flakes—just a touch.
Bake on the preheated stone or tray for about 12 to 15 minutes. If it looks a bit odd and the squash edges get, well, very toasty, don’t panic. That caramelization is everything. This is usually the part where I sneak a little piece of melty cheese from the edge when nobody’s looking.
As soon as it’s bubbling and golden and the bottom’s crisp (just lift it super-carefully to check), pull the pizza out. Let it cool for a whole minute, which you’ll want to skip but don’t—molten cheese will burn you, trust me. Then, if you want, finish with a drizzle of honey and the rest of the sage. Slice, and devour.

The Things They Don’t Tell You (My Kitchen Mishaps)

If your squash is super thickly cut, it’ll stay chewy. Actually, I once forgot and almost lost a tooth. Thin is better!
I used to skip olive oil on the base, but it really helps the crust get that crackle; don’t skip it.
If your goat cheese feels way too strong, mix it up with ricotta or just use less. I overdid it once, and it tasted like a farm (not in a good way).

Variations That Worked (And One That Absolutely Did Not)

Apple, blue cheese & walnut: Swap the squash for thin apple slices, dump a handful of blue cheese and walnuts on. Fancy but dead easy. (My mum thought it was genius.)
Prosciutto & pear: After baking, lay over prosciutto and thin pear slices. Salt meets sweet, lovely. Though pear can get a little slippery, just saying.
Mushroom overload: Sub the squash for sautéed wild mushrooms. Add a whoosh of truffle oil if you’re feeling flash. But skip truffle salt; it honestly made my kitchen smell like dirty socks.

What If You Don’t Have a Fancy Pizza Stone?

Look, if you’ve got a stone or steel, crack on! But a sturdy baking sheet (even one that’s a bit warped) upside-down absolutely does the job. In a pinch, I once used a cast iron skillet—just preheat it, dust it with cornmeal, and bake directly in there. Not perfect circles, but who’s measuring?

Storing Leftovers (Assuming There Are Any)

This is laughable, but it rarely lasts more than a day in my house. If you do somehow have extra, stick slices in an airtight container. Next day, reheat it in a hot pan—don’t microwave or it goes rubbery (learned the hard way). Actually, I think it tastes even better the next day, but that’s maybe just me liking breakfast pizza a little too much.

How I Like to Serve This (Hint: Eat With Your Hands)

I’m probably biased, but pizza like this needs nothing but a leafy salad and an ice-cold cider. Sometimes we do it “picnic style” on the living room rug while watching movies under a blanket. My brother dips his in sriracha, which I don’t really get—but hey, family traditions come in all shapes.

My Hard-Earned Pizza Wisdom

I rushed the dough proofing once and got a tough, sad, sorry excuse for pizza. Be patient (put the dough in a warm spot above the dishwasher for a short proof if you’re desperate). But don’t skip it.
Slicing too early = soggy base. Give it that extra minute.
Don’t be tempted to over-pile the toppings; less is more, especially if you want crispy edges.

Your Actual Pizza Questions (And My Unfiltered Answers)

Can I use pumpkin instead of squash? Sure, but slice it thin. Actually, on second thought, roasted pumpkin sometimes turns a bit watery—so maybe pat it dry first.
What if I don’t have sage? Thyme’s good, or skip it. Even a handful of torn spinach after baking is great for color. Nobody will call the pizza police, promise.
Is store-bought dough cheating? Not in my book! I buy it pretty often (Sainsbury’s, if you’re in the UK) and it works a treat. Homemade’s just slower.
Can kids help? Oh, absolutely. Just maybe don’t give them the cheese until after you’ve got the toppings on, or you’ll mysteriously end up with half the amount you bought.
What do I serve with this if I’m having guests? Go all-in with an autumn salad—try this Love & Lemons fall salad—or just some bread and olives. Wine is good, so is homemade apple juice (check this recipe if you want to impress folks!)

On a totally unrelated note: If you ever get the chance to visit a French market in October, please do—I swear their cheese-stalls smell like this pizza tastes. No, really. Anyway, that’s my roundabout way of saying, try this pizza soon. It’s like a scarf for your tastebuds. Let me know how you get on…and if you invent a new topping that beats squash, I want details!

Best Autumn Pizza Recipe: Cozy Flavors for Chilly Nights