I’m Evelyn. I’m not a trained chef. I’m a mom, a storyteller, and someone who learned to cook by watching the hands of someone I loved. And today, I’m sharing something that means more to me than just food: my Classic Monkey Bread.
This isn’t just a recipe. It’s the kind of dish that brings people to the kitchen just by its smell. The kind that you tear apart with your fingers while laughing, or quietly pull pieces from on a rainy morning. It’s soft, sticky, sweet, and full of stories. It’s also the recipe my daughter Léa now asks for every birthday.
If you’ve ever made bread with someone you love — or want to start a tradition that lasts — this Classic Monkey Bread is for you. In this article, I’ll walk you through how I make it, why it matters to me, and how you can turn it into your own ritual.
My Grandmother’s Kitchen and the Birth of This Classic Monkey Bread
The scent of cinnamon and warmth in every memory
I was maybe five the first time I saw it happen. Grandma stood near the oven, apron covered in flour, fingers sticky with sugar and butter. I remember her smile more than anything — a quiet one, calm and sure, like she had done this a thousand times and still loved it. That day, she let me roll the dough pieces. They were soft and bouncy. We dipped them into melted butter, rolled them in cinnamon sugar, and layered them into a bundt pan. Then we waited. The smell took over the whole house.
That was my first memory of Classic Monkey Bread. Back then, I didn’t know its name. I just called it “sticky bread” or “the good one.” But years later, when I was grown and Grandma had passed, I found her handwritten recipe in the back of a faded cookbook. She had written, simply: “Pull-apart sweet bread – classic.” That was the moment I knew — this wasn’t just a dessert. This was part of who we were.
The memory came back even more vividly the day I baked it for the first time on my own. I remember also baking banana nut muffins the same morning, just to feel less lonely in the kitchen.
Why I call it “classic” and not just monkey bread
There are many monkey bread recipes out there. You can even make it with canned biscuits — and I don’t judge that! But the version we make in my house is different. It takes time. It rises slow. It uses real dough, kneaded by hand, proofed patiently. We don’t cut corners. And that’s why I call it Classic Monkey Bread.
“Classic,” to me, means respectful. It means made with care. It means passed down — not reinvented for the sake of speed. Every step matters: from how the yeast bubbles in warm milk, to how the butter melts into the cinnamon sugar crust.
When I want to bring that same comfort into another dessert, I sometimes go for my crumb cake recipe or even brown banana recipes that warm the house with the same sweetness. These recipes, just like this monkey bread, carry history in every bite.
Léa once asked why we don’t just buy dessert like other families. I told her, because this is how we remember people. Every time we make this bread, we bring Grandma back for a few hours. And that’s not something I’m ever willing to rush.
What Makes This Classic Monkey Bread Special?
A texture you can feel before tasting
Before you even take a bite, you already know what you’re getting into. The outside of my Classic Monkey Bread has a sticky, golden crust that crackles ever so slightly when touched. The inside? It’s soft, buttery, and so pillowy you can pull it apart with two fingers.
That contrast — crisp edges and warm gooey middles — is the whole experience. Some recipes lean dry or overly sugary. Mine doesn’t. I learned early, watching Grandma bake, that balance is everything.
I remember once trying a shortcut version I saw online, similar to one you’d find in a 4-ingredient banana bread style. It was fast, yes, but it lacked heart. It didn’t fill the room with that scent. It didn’t make Léa sneak back for seconds. That’s when I knew: we don’t bake for speed. We bake for soul.
More than a recipe — it’s a ritual
Making this Classic Monkey Bread isn’t just about mixing ingredients. It’s about the rhythm of preparation. The way the dough folds under your palms. The way Léa always steals the cinnamon sugar bowl when she thinks I’m not looking.
This isn’t just my tradition — it’s ours. I’ve seen this ritual grow and shift. Léa adds more cinnamon now. Sometimes we swap white sugar for the darker, richer flavor of brown sugar, like I use in my peach cobbler with cake mix.
To give you a clearer picture, here’s how our Classic Monkey Bread compares to more commercial or rushed versions:
| Feature | Classic Monkey Bread (Evelyn’s) | Quick Store-Bought Version |
|---|---|---|
| Dough Type | Homemade, yeast-based | Canned biscuit dough |
| Rise Time | 2–3 hours | None |
| Flavor Depth | Rich, buttery, balanced sweetness | Overly sweet, artificial butter flavor |
| Emotional Value | Memory, tradition, bonding | Convenience |
The difference isn’t just taste — it’s the time, the hands, the moments shared. That’s why I always go back to the classic.
The Real Ingredients Behind My Classic Monkey Bread
Simple pantry staples with emotional weight
If you opened my pantry right now, you’d find everything you need to make this Classic Monkey Bread. That’s the beauty of it — nothing fancy, nothing hard to find. Just the basics: flour, active dry yeast, sugar, cinnamon, butter, eggs, and a pinch of salt.
But here’s the truth — these aren’t just ingredients to me. They’re reminders. The flour is the same brand my grandmother used. The cinnamon has to be bold and aromatic — we use a similar one for our raspberry sugar cookies. The butter? Always real, never margarine. I don’t believe in faking comfort.
Even the eggs remind me of the little glass bowl she cracked them into, always with one hand. I still do it that way, even when I’m making something entirely different, like cheesy potato pancakes.
These simple items, taken one by one, might not look like much. But together, they create something warm, alive, and deeply familiar.
Breaking down each ingredient’s purpose
When people ask me why my Classic Monkey Bread tastes different, I always say it’s because we respect the ingredients. Every one of them has a role:
| Ingredient | Why It Matters |
|---|---|
| Flour | Provides the structure. I use unbleached all-purpose for softness. |
| Yeast | Gives rise and airiness. I always bloom it first, just like when making [zucchini bread](https://lamyrecipes.com/zucchini-bread-recipe/). |
| Sugar | Sweetens and feeds the yeast. I mix white and brown for depth. |
| Butter | Adds richness and flavor. Always unsalted, always real. |
| Eggs | Bind the dough and give softness. |
| Cinnamon | Adds warmth and aroma. It defines the flavor of monkey bread. |
Some people ask if you can swap ingredients. Sure, you can. But when I stray too far, it doesn’t feel like my Classic Monkey Bread anymore. It loses that voice, that presence.
And when Léa bakes it now, she insists on doing everything by hand — just like me, just like Grandma. We’ve never needed a stand mixer. We just need time.
The Step-by-Step: How I Make Classic Monkey Bread at Home
How to prep the dough with patience (and joy)
There’s something deeply calming about making dough from scratch. It’s hands-on, grounding, and it slows the day down in the best way. When I make Classic Monkey Bread, I start with warm milk — not hot, just cozy to the touch. I stir in a spoonful of sugar and the yeast, then let it sit until it bubbles up like a memory.
Léa loves this part. She calls it “the dough waking up.” Once it’s foamy, I mix in the eggs, butter, more sugar, and flour. The dough comes together gently — not too sticky, not too dry. We knead it on a floured surface, ten full minutes by hand. This is when the house goes quiet. Just the sound of dough slapping the counter and the smell of warm yeast filling the air.
We let it rise in a big oiled bowl. I cover it with a clean kitchen towel that belonged to Grandma. It rests there for about 90 minutes, doubling in size like it’s breathing.
Sometimes, while we wait, we make a small batch of banana chocolate chip muffins. Léa says it makes the kitchen feel “extra alive.” I think she’s right.
Building it ball by ball — the most satisfying part
Once the dough has risen, we punch it down (gently — always gently). We tear it into pieces, about the size of a walnut. Each ball gets rolled smooth, dipped in melted butter, and tossed in cinnamon sugar. We layer them in a buttered bundt pan, one over the other, like we’re stacking edible hugs.
This is where the magic happens. The sugar caramelizes as it bakes, creating those signature sticky edges. Every bite of Classic Monkey Bread feels like the center of a cinnamon roll — warm, rich, and just sweet enough.
Here’s a breakdown of the steps we follow — feel free to print or save it:
| Step | Action |
|---|---|
| 1 | Activate yeast in warm milk with sugar |
| 2 | Add butter, eggs, sugar, flour; knead dough |
| 3 | Let rise 90 minutes in a warm place |
| 4 | Divide dough into balls, coat in butter and cinnamon sugar |
| 5 | Layer in bundt pan and let rest 20 more minutes |
| 6 | Bake at 350°F (175°C) for 30–35 minutes |
Once out of the oven, I flip the pan onto a plate while it’s still warm. The caramel sauce oozes down the sides, and it always gets an “oooh” from whoever’s nearby. Kind of like when we serve snow cream on cold days — simple, nostalgic, and instantly joyful.
Léa and I rarely wait for it to cool. We sit at the table, pull off sticky pieces with our fingers, and laugh.
That’s what Classic Monkey Bread does best — it brings people together, without saying a word.
Classic Monkey Bread Through the Years: Childhood to Motherhood
From my hands to my daughter’s — preserving the ritual
When I first became a mom, I knew I wanted Léa to feel the same connection to food I had with my grandmother. I didn’t push it. I just let her watch. And when she finally asked, “Can I do the sugar part?”, I knew it had started.
Now, she’s twelve. She doesn’t need a stool anymore. She ties her own apron, measures her own cinnamon, and insists we play her favorite playlist while we bake our Classic Monkey Bread. I let her change little things. She adds extra cinnamon sometimes, or swaps in dark brown sugar like we do in our blackstone fried rice for depth.
What matters isn’t that she does it exactly like me. It’s that she’s doing it — with her own hands, her own energy, and her own joy. It reminds me that recipes aren’t meant to be frozen in time. They’re meant to evolve, just like us.
The emotional moments baked into each batch
Some days, making this Classic Monkey Bread feels like therapy. Especially during seasons when I miss Grandma most — holidays, or the quiet space after Léa leaves for school.
There was a year, shortly after my mother’s passing, when I baked it on a rainy afternoon. I didn’t even feel like eating. I just needed to do something with my hands. That bread came out darker than usual, crispier too. But the smell filled the house. It grounded me.
Sometimes, I pair that memory with making something warm like my slow cooker chai latte, just to comfort myself with scent and silence.
I think that’s what food is meant to be — not just flavor, but feeling. Classic Monkey Bread does that for me. It takes me back, pulls me forward, and connects the two in a way no photo ever could.
We’ve served it at Léa’s birthdays, on lazy Sundays, even on days when dinner was nothing but vegetable soup and we wanted to treat ourselves afterward.
Every time we bake it, it feels like we’re continuing something ancient — something we never want to lose.
Common Mistakes When Making Classic Monkey Bread (And How I Fix Them)
When the sauce burns or the bread dries out
I’ve made Classic Monkey Bread for years now, and I’ll tell you this — it doesn’t always go right the first time. Especially if you’re making it from scratch like we do. One of the most common issues? The sauce burns at the bottom of the pan.
This usually happens when the oven runs hot or if there’s too much sugar pooled at the base. I learned to solve it by using a heavy bundt pan and placing it on the middle rack — never too low. I also make sure the sauce is well distributed. Pouring it slowly over the dough balls instead of all at once helps avoid uneven cooking.
Another mistake? Dry, dense texture. That usually means the dough didn’t rise long enough or the yeast wasn’t active. I always test my yeast in warm milk with sugar first, just like when prepping the base for my slow cooker beef brisket soup. If it doesn’t foam, I start over — no shortcuts here.
Too sweet, too sticky, or not pulling apart right
Sometimes people tell me, “My monkey bread was too sweet — almost overwhelming.” I get it. It’s tempting to go overboard with the cinnamon sugar, especially when you’re coating each dough ball. But balance is key. I use a ratio that gives richness without overpowering. Same thing I do in my cheesy gordita crunch guide: just enough to complement, not dominate.
Another issue is when the bread won’t pull apart nicely. It might seem stuck together or too gooey. That’s often because of underbaking or layering too tightly. I now space the dough balls slightly and bake for the full 35 minutes — even longer if needed. And if I’m unsure, I test with a wooden skewer.
If you want a shortcut, sure — use biscuit dough. But if you want that true Classic Monkey Bread feeling? Give it the time and care it deserves.
To make it easier, here’s a small table I created over the years to help Léa (and now, you too) troubleshoot baking mishaps:
| Problem | Likely Cause | Fix |
|---|---|---|
| Burnt base | Sugar settled at the bottom | Pour sauce evenly, use middle rack |
| Too dry | Overbaked or yeast inactive | Watch rise time, test yeast in warm milk |
| Too sticky | Underbaked or too much sauce | Bake longer, check doneness at center |
Even now, I keep this little chart on a sticky note by my recipe binder. Because baking, like life, isn’t about perfection. It’s about learning and doing it with heart.
The Nutritional Side — And Why I Don’t Worry About It
What’s in Classic Monkey Bread — calories, sugar, benefits
I’ll be honest. The first time someone asked me how many calories were in my Classic Monkey Bread, I froze. Not because I didn’t know — but because I didn’t want the story behind it to be reduced to numbers.
Still, I understand. We all care about what we feed our families. So here’s what you can expect in a standard homemade portion (about one-sixteenth of a bundt pan):
| Nutrient | Homemade Classic Monkey Bread | Store-Bought Version |
|---|---|---|
| Calories | 280–300 kcal | 340–400 kcal |
| Sugar | 12–14g | 18–25g |
| Fat | 9g | 13g |
| Fiber | 1g | 0g |
So yes, my version is still indulgent — but far more balanced than boxed options. No preservatives. No artificial flavoring. Just real food, made by hand, like my homemade banana bread, which also leans into natural sweetness.
We don’t bake it every day. But when we do, it nourishes more than just our stomachs.
Balance, not guilt — my philosophy in the kitchen
I’ve always believed that food is about intention. I never tell Léa a treat is “bad.” Instead, I show her when it’s for celebrating, when it’s for comfort, and when a simple slice of banana chocolate chip cupcakes is exactly what the heart needs.
That’s why I never frame Classic Monkey Bread as a “cheat.” It’s a gift. One that fills our home with smell, story, and softness.
And when we want something lighter, we just switch gears. Maybe chicken alfredo pierogi casserole for dinner and fruit for dessert.
But guilt? It has no place at our table. My kitchen is where we talk, share, and feel. Not where we count every crumb.
So if you’re reading this and wondering if it’s “okay” to make something sweet this weekend — yes. It absolutely is.
Why Classic Monkey Bread Will Always Have a Place in My Kitchen
It’s not just food, it’s how we love
In every home, there’s that one smell that feels like safety. For us, it’s the cinnamon sugar of Classic Monkey Bread, rising and bubbling in the oven.
It’s what I bake when family visits. It’s the thing Léa requests when she’s had a hard week. It’s what I make when the house feels too quiet, and I want it to feel like someone’s coming over — even if they’re not.
We’ve made this bread on birthdays, holidays, random Tuesdays, and even on stormy afternoons when all we wanted was warmth. I’ve written the recipe down in my notebook — the same one where I also keep special dishes like my cheesy bang bang chicken or lunch lady peanut butter bars, because they all hold a story.
But this one? This Classic Monkey Bread? It holds the heart.
Inviting others to carry the tradition forward
When readers write to me and say, “I tried your recipe and my kids loved it,” I smile. Not because of the compliment — but because that means a new memory was made in another home.
That’s what I want this blog — Lamy Recipes — to be. A place where food isn’t just about taste, but about story. Where you come not just for a recipe, but to feel something familiar.
So I hope you try this Classic Monkey Bread. I hope you share it. I hope someone small rolls a dough ball beside you and leaves cinnamon fingerprints on the counter.
And I hope, years from now, they’ll do the same — and think of you.
FAQs
How much sugar is in monkey bread?
In my version of Classic Monkey Bread, I use about ¾ cup of sugar total — split between the dough coating and the cinnamon topping. That works out to around 12–14 grams per serving. It’s sweet, but not overwhelming. You can reduce it slightly if you prefer a lighter touch, like I do when baking banana chocolate chip muffins.
What is monkey bread sauce made of?
The sauce that gives Classic Monkey Bread its signature sticky finish is simple: melted butter, brown sugar, and a dash of vanilla. I warm them together until smooth, then pour it slowly over the layered dough. That’s what caramelizes so beautifully during baking.
Can I prep monkey bread the night before?
Absolutely. I often do when we’re having guests. Just assemble the full Classic Monkey Bread in the bundt pan, cover it with plastic wrap, and refrigerate it overnight. In the morning, let it rest on the counter for about 30 minutes before baking. It works like a charm — and smells even better.
Is monkey bread a cake?
It’s not a cake in the traditional sense. It’s a yeast-based pull-apart bread, though many people bake it in bundt pans like a cake. The texture is softer and more tender than cake — kind of like the center of a cinnamon roll, which is what makes it so comforting.
What are the benefits of monkey bread?
Beyond being delicious? It brings people together. It’s easy for kids to help make. It fills the house with warmth. And most importantly, it creates memories. That’s the real benefit. Just like our banana bread recipe, it’s a dish that speaks love through simplicity.
What is the least sugar in bread?
If you’re watching sugar, you can reduce the amount used in the coating or substitute coconut sugar for a milder sweetness. Another idea is to balance your day with lower-sugar recipes like my zucchini bread, which uses ripe bananas for natural sweetness instead of lots of added sugar.
Conclusion
What I’ve shared with you today isn’t just a recipe — it’s part of my home, my past, and my hopes for the future. Classic Monkey Bread has never been about perfection. It’s about feeling something as you tear off each warm, sticky piece — comfort, memory, joy.
This kind of bread has deep cultural roots. If you’re curious about its origins and story through time, here’s a helpful overview that dives into where it comes from and how it’s evolved.
If you’d like to know more about who I am, how I learned to cook, and why I started Lamy Recipes, I’d love for you to read my story here — it’s the heart behind every recipe.
And if this recipe made you smile, feel free to join me on Facebook and Pinterest where I share new recipes, behind-the-scenes moments, and little pieces of our kitchen life every week.
Because here, we don’t just cook. We remember. We pass things on. We make it matter.
Table of Contents
Classic Monkey Bread Recipe: A Sweet, Nostalgic Treat You’ll Love
A soft, sticky, cinnamon-sugar pull-apart bread that’s rich with flavor and tradition. This Classic Monkey Bread is made from scratch, one dough ball at a time, and perfect for sharing warm with family.
- Total Time: 2 hours 30 minutes
- Yield: 1 bundt (serves 10–12) 1x
Ingredients
3 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 packet active dry yeast (2 1/4 tsp)
3/4 cup warm milk (110°F)
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted (for dough)
1/2 tsp salt
2 eggs
1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted (for coating)
3/4 cup brown sugar
2 tsp ground cinnamon
Instructions
1. In a bowl, dissolve yeast in warm milk with 1 tablespoon of sugar. Let sit until foamy (5–10 mins).
2. In a large bowl, combine flour, sugar, salt, eggs, and melted butter. Add foamy yeast mixture. Mix to form a soft dough.
3. Knead dough on floured surface for 8–10 mins until smooth. Place in greased bowl, cover, and let rise until doubled (90 mins).
4. Punch down dough and divide into small balls (walnut-sized).
5. Dip each ball in melted butter, then roll in cinnamon-sugar (brown sugar + cinnamon).
6. Layer balls into a greased bundt pan. Cover and let rise again for 20 mins.
7. Bake at 350°F (175°C) for 30–35 minutes until golden.
8. Cool for 5 minutes, then invert onto a serving plate. Serve warm.
Notes
You can prepare the dough and assemble the bread the night before. Cover and refrigerate, then bake the next morning after letting it sit 30 minutes at room temperature.
For extra gooeyness, pour an extra 2 tablespoons of melted butter and sugar mix on top before baking.
- Prep Time: 25 minutes
- Cook Time: 35 minutes
- Category: Dessert
- Method: Baking
- Cuisine: American
- Diet: Vegetarian
Nutrition
- Serving Size: 1 slice (1/12)
- Calories: 290
- Sugar: 13g
- Sodium: 190mg
- Fat: 10g
- Saturated Fat: 6g
- Unsaturated Fat: 4g
- Trans Fat: 0g
- Carbohydrates: 42g
- Fiber: 1g
- Protein: 5g
- Cholesterol: 40mg
Keywords: Classic Monkey Bread, monkey bread from scratch, cinnamon pull-apart bread
