Let Me Tell You a Story About This Bread

So, picture this: It’s a drizzly Saturday, the kids have taken over the kitchen table with their Lego kingdom, and—because I clearly can’t resist turning on the oven—the only logical way to warm us up is with a loaf of cinnamon swirl bread. There’s something about baking cinnamon bread that just makes the house feel less like a house and more like—well, like home, you know? The scent has been called “dangerously distracting” by my partner, who once burned himself on the toaster mid-slice because he couldn’t wait. For real, this bread is trouble (in the best possible way).

I actually learned to bake this from my neighbor Bev, who swore by using melted butter and not that fancy schmancy room temp stuff. Who am I to argue with wisdom passed down over multiple cups of weak tea and some truly questionable 90s kitchen wallpaper?

Why You’ll Probably Love This (Or At Least Not Hate It)

I reach for this recipe when there’s a chill in the air and I need the kind of comfort you can’t get form a mug—though I also run to it when my family is clamoring for something special and my patience is on the thin side. It’s ridiculously satisfying to pull a loaf like this from the oven; my kids materialize out of thin air as soon as the cinnamon hits the air. Even my dog parks himself suspiciously close to the counter (just saying—watch out for snout-level snacks).

Oh, and if you’re like me and sometimes have “technical difficulties” with yeast breads, this one’s a pretty forgiving friend. I’ve had loaves rise unevenly, look a bit (erm) uneven, or even collapse slightly, and they still taste amazing. I think the cinnamon swirl hides all manner of sins, honestly. Also, it toasts up perfectly the next day—if there’s any left, but we’ll get to that.

These Are the Ingredients (and Yes, You Can Substitute a Few!)

3 cups all-purpose flour (I’ve used bread flour; it works too, just a bit chewier)
1 packet (2 1/4 tsp) active dry yeast (sometimes I just use instant if I’m rushing, not a huge difference)
3/4 cup warm milk (I’ve totally used oat milk when I ran out, and no one noticed)
1/4 cup sugar (granulated is standard, but my friend insists brown sugar is richer—she’s not wrong, actually)
4 tablespoons melted butter (Grandma said “only salted,” but honestly, it’s your call)
1 large egg
1/2 teaspoon salt
For the swirl: 1/3 cup sugar + 1 1/2 tablespoons cinnamon (if you’re feeling wild, cardamom is divine)
Optional: handful of raisins or chopped walnuts (my kids veto this EVERY time, but hey, maybe you’ll win the raisin lottery)

Here’s How I Make It (Give or Take a Step)

Warm the milk to just about wrist temperature—not scalding, but not tepid either. Sprinkle in the yeast and a pinch of the sugar. Let it get foamy. 5-10 minutes. Sometimes I walk away and forget and come back to find it really frothy, which is all good.
Mix the flour, remaining sugar, and salt in a big bowl. (By the way, I just use a wooden spoon and elbow grease, but you could totally use a stand mixer if that’s your jam. I sometimes wish I had the counter space.)
Stir in the foamy milk-yeast mixture, melted butter, and egg. It will look shaggy—don’t panic. Turn it out on a floured counter and start kneading. 8 minutes or so, until it starts fighting back a little. If it’s sticking like a barnacle, add a sprinkle more flour.
Pop it in a greased bowl, cover, and let it rise somewhere warm (by the stove, under a tea towel is my go-to spot). 1 to 1 1/2 hours, or longer if your kitchen’s chilly.
Punch down the dough. Definitely the most satisfying bit. Roll it out into a rectangle—about the length of your loaf pan, give or take—then brush with a bit more melted butter if you’re feeling wild. Sprinkle over your cinnamon-sugar and any extras.
Roll it up, starting from the short end so it’ll fit your pan. Tuck it gently into a greased loaf tin.
Let it rise again, about 30-40 minutes, probably until it’s looking like a loaf and springs back a little if you poke it (with clean fingers, please).
Bake at 180°C (350°F) for 35–38 minutes, or until golden and hollow-sounding when you thump it (I sometimes check with a skewer at 33 minutes just to see how it’s doing).
Tip it out of the pan and let cool, but honestly, good luck waiting for that. This is where I break off an end piece—quality control and all.

Little Notes I Learned The Hard Way

If the swirl breaks through a bit and leaks, that’s kinda normal. It happens to me all the time.
Dough too sticky? Just scatter on a bit more flour. Don’t overthink it.
If you forget the egg (been there), the bread will still rise but taste a bit less rich—perfectly edible though.

Variations I’ve Tried (Some Better Than Others!)

Adding orange zest to the cinnamon sugar—gives me holiday vibes!
Chocolate chips in the swirl—nice but melts and makes a mess; tastes amazing though.
I once tried using whole wheat flour for half the amount. Interesting, but a bit dense (wouldn’t do that again unless you love a hearty chew).

Stuff You Need (or What To Use in a Pinch)

Loaf pan (mine’s old and slightly warped—character, right?)
Mixing bowls (a big one and a medium does the trick)
Wooden spoon—you could do this whole thing by hand, no fancy mixer required. If you don’t have a bread tin, use a couple small cake pans; the bread’ll be rounder, but who cares?
Rolling pin—a wine bottle works, too. Not that I’ve ever been caught using one. (Okay, maybe once.)

Storage (If You Actually Have Leftovers)

Wrap in foil or pop into a bread bag. It stays soft a day or two at room temp, or slice and freeze for toasted bliss later. But honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day—maybe a day and a half tops if folks are on a health kick.

Serving: How We Eat It (And a Bit About Tea…)

I love it toasted, butter melting into those cinnamon swirls—heavenly. My son insists it’s perfect with peanut butter (jury’s out on that). Sometimes, especially on weekends, I make extra and serve slices with stewed apples and a mug of strong builder’s tea. Oh, and my mother-in-law eats hers plain, right from the loaf pan. To each their own!

Pro Tips: Confessions From a Distracted Baker

I once rushed the rising time and ended up with a flat, dense loaf. Don’t be me.
Cinnamon burns quickly, so try not to go over on the baking time (I set a timer but then get distracted by laundry. Oops).
Actually, I find letting it cool at least 20 minutes before slicing helps prevent that gummy middle. It’s hard to wait, but worth it—I promise.

FAQ (Yes, These Are Real Questions I’ve Gotten!)

Can I make this without a stand mixer?
Of course! I always do. Elbow grease and a wooden spoon is all you need. Plus, it’s a decent arm workout.

Can I double the recipe?
Definitely. Just use two pans. And maybe a bigger bowl. Trust me (learned that the messy way).

Is it okay to skip the second rise?
Ah, best not to. I skipped it once—impatient!—and the bread was more brick than pillow. Worth the wait.

Can I make this gluten-free?
I’ve honestly not cracked the code on that one. You could try a gluten-free bread mix, though results may vary. If you do, let me know!

Oh, and before I forget—never try slicing hot bread with a dull knife. A hard lesson from my early days—crumbs everywhere, and an oddly mangled loaf. But hey, we still ate it.

Cinnamon Swirl Bread