This rich, moist Maine molasses quick bread is made with dark molasses, whole wheat flour, milk, and sugar—and it freezes beautifully!

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Alright, so—this bread? It wasn’t part of some master plan or Pinterest-perfect baking day. It started because I had a half-used jar of molasses from last December, buried behind pickles and a lonely can of evaporated milk I still don’t remember buying. You ever just need to make something? Like, not want… but need? That was me.

It was late fall, and the leaves outside were just barely hanging on—kind of like my patience that week, honestly. I was scrolling through a couple of old recipe clippings, the ones that get shoved in cookbooks and forgotten until you’re desperate. I saw one with the words “Maine Molasses Quick Bread” scribbled in pencil, and I had this super vivid memory of being maybe 9, wrapped in a blanket at my aunt’s cottage up in Kennebunkport. She’d made something like it—probably from a church cookbook or passed down from someone’s great-great-someone—and it smelled like warm spice and home. Not flashy. Just good.

So I tried to recreate that moment… and whether I nailed it or not, I ended up with this loaf that’s dark, cozy, humble, and just sweet enough to quiet a loud day. I’ve made it at least a dozen times now. Sometimes with cream cheese. Sometimes toasted. Once I ate two slices straight out of the freezer like a gremlin. No regrets.

Why You’ll Love This Maine Molasses Quick Bread Recipe?

It’s not the kind of quick bread that screams for attention. No chocolate chips, no swirls, no sugary glaze. Just the comforting smell of molasses and a slice that practically begs for a spread of butter or cream cheese. It’s simple—in that wonderfully old-school way that makes you feel like you’re doing something kind for your soul. There’s a wholesomeness to it that I can’t quite explain. Like, if a cozy cabin had a flavor, this would be it.

It’s also one of those bake-it-once, eat-it-all-week kind of things. Or bake and freeze for that future version of you who’s too tired to cook but really needs a hug in food form.

Ingredient Notes:

Okay, yes—it’s a short list. But don’t let that fool you. Every ingredient is pulling its weight here.

Whole Wheat Flour: This gives it that hearty, almost earthy flavor that reminds me of old-fashioned baking. It’s not trying to be trendy. It just is.
All-Purpose Flour: Balances the wheat flour out. Too much whole wheat and you’ll end up with a doorstop instead of a quick bread. Been there.
Baking Soda: It’s the magic behind the rise. Just one little teaspoon, but it makes things happen.
Salt: It’s like the sound guy in a movie. You don’t notice it until it’s missing, and then it all feels flat.
Sugar: Only half a cup, because the molasses already brings the sweetness and that deep, almost smoky flavor.
Dark Molasses: This is the backbone. It’s got that rich, old-timey taste that just makes you feel… grounded? I’m not getting all poetic on purpose, it just does.
Milk (not skim!): You want creaminess. You want a tender crumb. You want it to feel soft and full, not like cardboard. Use whole milk or 2%. Trust me.

How To Make Maine Molasses Quick Bread?

This is the kind of recipe you can throw together with one eye open and a mug of tea in the other hand. Or maybe that’s just how I do it.

Step1: Heat things up.
Preheat your oven to 325°F. Low and slow—that’s the key to getting that ultra-moist texture. Grease a 9×4-inch loaf pan with nonstick spray or go old-school with butter and a bit of flour. Either works. I’ve used parchment once when I couldn’t find the spray. It was fine. Not life-changing, but fine.

Step 2: Mix the dry gang.
In a big bowl, sift or whisk together the flours, baking soda, salt, and sugar. I usually use a fork because I’m lazy and somehow have 300 whisks and none of them clean. You do you.

Step 3: Mix the wet ones.
In another bowl, stir together the milk and molasses. The molasses might resist. Give it time. It’ll blend in. Stir until it’s nice and even—think chocolate milk, but… darker and less drinkable.

Step 4: Combine, don’t panic.
Pour the wet into the dry and use a hand mixer to blend everything. Don’t overmix. Just get it to a place where it’s all together and smoothish. Lumps won’t kill it. This is rustic baking, not a Great British Bake-Off technical challenge.

Step 5: Pour and bake.
Scrape the batter into your loaf pan. Smooth the top a little if you care about that sort of thing. Bake it for about an hour and a half. It’ll be a long wait—but by the 45-minute mark, your whole place will smell like the holidays. Or like a log cabin. Or like someone who knows what they’re doing in the kitchen (even if you don’t).

Step 6: Cool your jets.
Let it sit in the pan for 10 minutes. Don’t skip this. It’s regrouping. Then gently pop it out and let it cool all the way. Or don’t. I’ve definitely sliced it warm. No judgment here.

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Storage Options:

Once it’s cooled, wrap it up tight. Plastic wrap, foil, beeswax wrap—whatever your style is. It’ll stay fresh on the counter for about 3 days. After that, toss it in the freezer. It freezes like a dream. I usually slice it first, so I can pull out a piece or two at a time. Feels like cheating the system—in a good way.

Variations and Substitutions:

You’re allowed to mess with it. Recipes aren’t rules. They’re more like suggestions from a friend.

Spice it up: Add some cinnamon, ginger, or nutmeg if you want that spiced bread vibe.
Toss in fruit: Raisins, chopped dates, or even diced apple. Go wild.
Swap the milk: Buttermilk makes it tangier. Oat milk works too—though it changes the texture just a bit.
Try white whole wheat flour: Slightly lighter but still wholesome. I’ve done this. It’s good.
Make it vegan-ish: Use plant milk and skip the cream cheese topping (or use a dairy-free one). You’ll be fine.

What to Serve with Maine Molasses Quick Bread?

This bread pairs well with lots of things. Or nothing at all.

Cream cheese: Soft, cold, and perfect. A classic.
Apple butter: Especially in fall. It’s like a flavor explosion.
Sharp cheddar: I know. Sounds weird. But it works.
Soup: Something creamy and warm, like corn chowder or tomato bisque. Yes, yes, yes.
Coffee or tea: This bread and a hot drink = the adult version of a nap.

Frequently Asked Questions:

Can I use blackstrap molasses instead?
You can, technically. But honestly… I wouldn’t. It’s way more bitter and intense. Unless you like your bread to taste like a punch in the face, stick to regular dark molasses.

Why does it take so dang long to bake?
It’s baking low and slow to stay moist. That’s the secret sauce. If you crank the heat, you’ll dry it out—and then blame me. So… don’t.

And hey—if you do end up making this Maine Molasses Quick Bread, I’d love to hear about it. Did you toast it? Slather it in cream cheese? Eat it in your pajamas at midnight? (Highly recommend.) Drop a comment or send me a message. I’m here for all the cozy loaf stories.

< Remember it later! >

Planning to try this recipe soon? Pin it for a quick find later!

< Remember it later! >

Planning to try this recipe soon? Pin it for a quick find later!

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