Let’s Talk About These Mini Cinnamon Sourdough Bundt Cakes

Okay, let me just say—if you’d told me a year ago that I’d fall head over heels for baking tiny cinnamon sourdough bundt cakes, I’d have laughed and reached for my (questionable) store-bought cookies. But last winter, after a particularly chaotic Sunday, I was staring at a sad, neglected jar of sourdough starter sitting at the back of my fridge, and thought, why not? The first batch was... memorable (if you like the taste of regret!), but after a few tweaks and a lot of taste testing (the best kind of research), these sweet, spiced little cakes have become a personal favorite. Also, mini bundt pans are just plain fun—kind of like if your grandma’s fancy cake got shrunk by a wizard. Anyway, let’s get to it before the starter takes over the fridge again.

Why You'll Love This (At Least I Hope So!)

I make these whenever my family starts circling the kitchen like vultures looking for something sweet, or when I’ve got extra sourdough starter staring daggers at me. My kids go wild for them because they’re basically like cinnamon rolls in cake form (but without all the rolling and faffing around). And you know, sometimes you just want something cozy, especially when it’s raining or you’ve had one of those days. Oh, and I used to get so annoyed with sticky batter, but this recipe’s pretty forgiving—no need to panic if things look a bit funky at first. (Trust the process. Or at least pretend to!)

What You'll Need (and a Few Swaps That Work)

1 cup active sourdough starter (I use mine straight from the fridge sometimes, shhh—just wake it up a bit if it's really sleepy)
1 cup all-purpose flour (whole wheat is ok too—just makes things a tad denser)
½ cup granulated sugar (brown sugar for a deeper flavor—my aunt swears by it, and honestly, it's good both ways)
2 large eggs (I've tried flax eggs once when I ran out—surprisingly, it kind of worked... sort of)
½ cup melted butter (or a neutral oil if you prefer, though I think butter just tastes better here)
⅓ cup milk (any type—dairy, oat, almond—I've used them all when the fridge is looking bare)
1.5 teaspoon ground cinnamon (but secretly, I shake in a bit extra for luck)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (the real stuff would make my grandmother proud, but imitation is okay too—no judgment)
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder

Optional: A sprinkle of chopped pecans or walnuts, if you’re feeling fancy. My neighbor once tossed in mini chocolate chips, and yeah, that was a win.

Let’s Bake These Little Beauties

First, preheat your oven to 350°F (175°C). Butter or spray your mini bundt pans well—trust me, you do not want the cakes stuck—ask me how I know.
Grab a bowl, mix together the starter, flour, sugar, eggs, melted butter, milk, cinnamon, vanilla, salt, and baking powder. Don’t overthink it. I usually just toss everything in together (it’s not a soufflé, nobody’s judging!).
Now, whisk until mostly smooth; lumps are fine. This is where I usually sneak a taste. If it seems too thick, splash in a bit more milk. If it’s runny—eh, just bake it a minute longer.
If you’re adding nuts or chocolate chips, fold them in gently. Or not so gently if you’re in a rush.
Spoon the batter into the mini bundt pans, filling about ⅔ full. If you overfill, they do puff up and sometimes look like tiny volcanoes—makes for good laughs though.
Bake for 18–22 minutes. Start checking at 18. A toothpick should come out mostly clean, but a smidge of wet crumb is fine—it’s better slightly underbaked than dry, in my humble opinion.
Let them cool in the pan for 10 minutes before flipping out onto a rack. Don’t panic if a few stick—just patch them up with some glaze and nobody will know.

Notes (Learned the Hard Way)

Actually, I find it works better if you let the batter sit for 10 minutes before baking—it gives everything a chance to mingle (like a low-key party in your bowl).
If your starter’s a bit tangy, that’s good! It balances the sweet. But if it smells like gym socks, maybe feed it first.
Once, I forgot the baking powder and ended up with cinnamon sourdough hockey pucks. Double check your ingredients before you get too far—just saying.

Variations I've Been Brave Enough to Try

Tried swapping the cinnamon for cardamom once. It was... interesting. Not my favorite, but maybe you’re more adventurous.
Lemon zest in the batter is a nice touch for spring. My kids were unimpressed, but I liked it!
For a holiday vibe, a tiny splash of rum or bourbon. Not too much, unless you want boozy cakes (which, come to think of it, could be fun for grown-ups).

Just don’t add mashed banana. Trust me—tried it, regretted it. Save that for banana bread.

What If I Don’t Have Mini Bundt Pans?

No mini bundt pans? No biggie. Muffin tins work just fine, though the edges aren’t as cute. Or, if you’re feeling wild, a regular loaf pan—just bake a bit longer and watch the middle. I’ve even used a silicone pan I found at a yard sale, though, on second thought, it always smelled a bit odd. Here’s a useful guide on alternative pans if you want to see more options.

How to Store These (If You Have Any Left...)

Honestly, these rarely survive past breakfast in my house. But if you have more self-control, pop them in an airtight container at room temp for up to two days. Or freeze them for longer—just wrap tightly first. Kitchn’s cake freezing tips are great if you’re nervous about it. They’re still good the next day, maybe even better, but they do dry out a bit after day three.

Serving Ideas (Not That You Need an Excuse)

I like to dust them with powdered sugar, or drizzle with a simple glaze (powdered sugar plus milk and a pinch of cinnamon). Sometimes we serve with vanilla ice cream for dessert—which is probably overkill, but oh well. For brunch, I’ll put a few on a plate with fresh berries and call it fancy. My partner, weirdly, likes them with black coffee and nothing else. You do you.

What I’ve Learned Not To Mess Up (Pro Tips)

I once tried rushing the cooling time. Bad idea—half the cakes fell apart. Let them cool, even if you’re impatient.
Don’t overmix. The batter should be friendly, not whipped into submission.
Actually, I find greasing the pan twice—once with butter, once with spray—gives the best release (paranoid? Maybe).

FAQ—Real Questions I Get from Friends

Can I make these without sourdough starter?: Well, technically you could try swapping with plain yogurt, but honestly, you lose that lovely tang. And then they’re just cinnamon cakes (not that that’s bad, mind you).
How long do they keep?: About two days at room temp—though, honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! If you freeze them, they reheat fine in the microwave.
Can I double the recipe?: Sure, just use two pans or bake in batches. But, watch the baking time—it can get a bit wonky if your oven’s as unpredictable as mine.
What if my starter is inactive?: Feed it first! Or, if you’re in a pinch, just use it anyway—the cakes will be a bit less fluffy but still tasty. Actually, the first time I tried with a tired starter, they were still gobbled up.
Do these freeze well?: Yup! Wrap’em tight, freeze up to a month. Pop in the oven at 300°F for 10 minutes to refresh. Or just eat them cold (not judging).

So, that’s it. If you make these, let me know how it goes—or if you invent a wild new variation, I’d love to hear about your kitchen triumphs (or disasters). And if you’re new to sourdough, this sourdough starter tutorial helped me loads, and I still check it when I forget things—which is often.

Happy baking, and may your cakes come out prettier than mine. Or, if they don’t, at least they’ll taste fantastic.

Mini Cinnamon Sourdough Bundt Cakes