Oh, let’s talk about these sourdough cinnamon rolls. I always think about that one lazy Saturday when my nephew decided helping me meant stealing globs of dough and flinging flour everywhere. The kitchen looked like a snow globe, but hey, memory made. Also, there’s something unreasonably cheerful about cinnamon rolls rising slowly overnight—plus, your kitchen smells like a bakery exploded in the best possible way. If you’ve got some sourdough discard just hanging about (or a starter that needs a project, much like my cat needs attention at 3 a.m.), this is truly my go-to recipe when I want to impress and comfort at the same time.

Why Roll With These Sourdough Beauties?

I make these when I’m craving nostalgia wrapped in brown sugar and butter. My family pretty much hovers around the oven (like seagulls around chips) by the time I spread on the glaze. Plus, you get all that sourdough tang without any faffy commercial yeast. Admittedly, I used to find sourdough intimidating, but this recipe? Forgiving and stubbornly delicious even if you get distracted and add the butter at the wrong time—which I have, more than once. (Don’t worry, they still turned out edible. Sort of extra rustic?)

What You’ll Need (and What You Can Swap)

Sourdough starter (100g, active or discard): I’ve used both; honestly, the difference is subtle.
Milk (120ml): Whole is best, but 2%, oat, or even almond worked fine for me in a pinch.
Butter (60g, melted & cooled): My gran was firm on salted, but I’ve used unsalted and tossed in a small pinch of salt if needed.
Egg (1 large): If you’re out, skipping it once didn’t ruin mine—just a little less rich.
Caster sugar (50g): Regular granulated will do. Or, if you’re in a mood, brown sugar gives a slight butterscotch note.
Bread flour (250-275g): I mix half bread and half all-purpose when I run low, doesn’t seem to matter much.
Salt (1 tsp):
For the Filling:

Softened butter (50g or a generous smear)
Brown sugar (75g, or a big handful—measuring spoons optional)
Cinnamon (3 tsp, though I admit to an extra sprinkle)

For the Glaze:

Icing sugar (100g-ish—really just keep dusting until it looks right)
Soft cream cheese (about 2 heaping spoonfuls, 60g)
Milk (1-2 tbsp, as needed for drizzling)
Vanilla (a splash; more if you love it)

How I Actually Make These (Don’t Judge the Chaos)

Start the Dough:
In a big bowl, mix starter, milk, melted butter, sugar, the egg, and salt. I just stir with a wooden spoon—sometimes I use my hands because who’s judging. Add in flour, bit by bit, until a shaggy (love that word) dough forms. If it’s super sticky, sprinkle extra flour; if it’s dry, a dribble more milk.
Knead-ish:
Knead dough on a floured kitchen top for like 5 minutes. Or less if you’re tired. You want it smooth-ish and springy, but on second thought, I once left it a bit tacky and it was fine—maybe even better.
Bulk Rise:
Toss dough back in the bowl, cover with a tea towel, and let it rise. Room temp if it’s not freezing, 4-6 hours (or overnight in the fridge if you, like me, enjoy sleeping). It should double—you can give it a little stretch and fold after 1 hour, but honestly, I forget half the time.
Roll Out the Dough:
Pat down the dough onto a lightly floured surface. Roll (or smoosh) into a rectangle, about the size of a cutting board—precision not required.
Cinnamon Filling Magic:
Slather with softened butter (don’t skimp, trust me). Sprinkle brown sugar and cinnamon all over. Sometimes my filling spills over—oh well, more bits to nibble.
Roll Up & Slice:
Roll up the dough (tightly-ish; it’s not a yoga mat, just do your best). Cut into 8-10 rolls. I use a chewed-up piece of string for this, but a sharp knife works (learned that trick here—pretty nifty).
Second Rise:
Place rolls in a greased baking pan, yay! Let ‘em puff up for an hour or so (my kitchen is cold, sometimes it takes longer) or cover and chill overnight if you’re planning a brunch situation.
Bake:
About 180°C (350°F), for 25-30 minutes, or until golden, bubbly, and your house smells amazing. Check after 20 if your oven has mood swings like mine.
Glaze Drama:
To make the glaze, just mash everything together with a fork or small whisk. Drizzle over rolls as soon as they’re warm-ish but not blazing (you don’t want a runny mess, but honestly, it’s still pretty tasty either way). This is where I sneak a first (burnt) bite.

Stuff I’ve Learned the Hard Way

Sourdough isn’t fussy but your patience is—I once under-proofed and got dough boulders, so give them time.
If your icing goes lumpy, just microwave it for 10 secs and stir again.
Yes, using string to cut does make the spirals prettier (but a blunt butter knife is totally fine in a pinch).
The dough likes a long, slow rise. One time, I tried to rush it… let’s just say they were more like cinnamon scones.

If You Fancy a Tweak (or Just Like an Experiment)

Once I swapped out cinnamon for cardamom and orange zest. Very posh. My dad wasn’t convinced, but I loved it.
I tried folding in chopped apples once—delicious, but the dough got squishy. Needs more tweaking.
Tried chocolate chips. Nope, stuck to the pan. Maybe just sprinkle them on top next time?

Essential Gear (But Make Do If Needed)

A rolling pin (I’ve used a glass bottle plenty of times—bit wobbly, but works!)
Mixing bowl, naturally
A big baking dish or pan (I even used my roasting tray one time)
Kettle of tea for the baker’s nerves… optional but strongly recommended

How To Store… If They Last That Long

Technically, you can keep them in an airtight tin or wrapped in foil for a couple days at room temp. I freeze extras (ha, that’s rare) and toast them later—still soft! But honestly, it’s a rare day when they aren’t all gone by dinnertime. Bit like cake at a bake sale; never makes it home.

How We Eat These (and Odd Traditions)

Truthfully, I like mine warm with a strong cup of coffee—my partner plops ice cream on top (odd, but weirdly good). My nephew eats the middles first, leaving sticky roll halos on the plate. Sometimes we chuck a handful of toasted pecans over the top if we’re feeling fancy. Oh—try them with bacon on the side, trust me (it’s a Canadian thing, I think). And if you want to go down the cinnamon roll rabbit hole, check this blog for real deep-dives.

If I Could Hand You Just One Pro Tip

I once tried cranking up the oven to get them done faster—big mistake, the outsides browned and the centers stayed doughy. Now I just occupy myself with dishes (or, let’s be honest, a scroll on my phone) and wait it out. Also, I used to forget to cover the rolls for their second rise and they dried out; so throw a damp tea towel over the top, even if it’s just an old one with ducks on it.

Some Questions Folks Always Ask

Do I have to use “active” sourdough starter, or is discard fine?
— Either works! Honestly, I use whatever’s knocking around; active is fluffier, but discard still gives good flavor.
Can I make these ahead of time?
Yep, pop them in the fridge overnight after shaping. I sometimes even freeze the shaped rolls and bake them straight from frozen (add 10ish mins to bake time).
Can I cut back on the sugar?
Totally, though the texture’s nicest with a bit of indulgence. If you do cut it down, maybe add a touch more cinnamon for flavor oomph.
Is it necessary to use bread flour?
Not at all. All-purpose/flour does in a pinch… I think they’re actually a bit softer that way.
What can I do if my dough isn’t rising?
Give it more time, move it somewhere warmer (I sometimes stick mine near the hot water tank). Or, you can just roll with it. The rolls might be dense but they’re still tasty.

There you have it—my not-so-perfect, but totally reliable sourdough cinnamon rolls. If you make them, let me know how yours turn out (or what went sideways, always fun). Happy baking! Oh, and if you’re new to sourdough, the Culture For Health Sourdough Starter Guide got me through my early flops—couldn’t hurt to peek at it.

Sourdough Cinnamon Rolls