Let’s Talk About Cinnamon Apple French Toast Bake (and Why I Can’t Stop Making It)

You know how some recipes just sort of show up in your kitchen and before you know it, they’ve become your thing? Well, that’s definitely the case with this Cinnamon Apple French Toast Bake. I first cobbled this together one chilly October morning after forgetting to buy cereal (again). I rummaged through the fridge, spotted some slightly weary apples and half a loaf of bread that was, let’s just say, enthusiastically crusty—voilà! Honestly, sometimes cooking feels like making patchwork quilts—lots of odds and ends creating something way more beautiful than expected. The first time I made this, my kids were sort of skeptical (there might have been an eye-roll involved), but after one bite, there was actual silence at the table. Yes, miracles can happen before 8am.

Why You’ll Love This—Or, Why My Tribe Goes Bananas for It (Oops, I Mean Apples)

I make this when I want breakfast to feel like dessert. My family loses their minds over the smell wafting from the oven; it’s like a hug you can eat. Plus, I can throw it together the night before (less chaos in the morning, thank goodness). If you’re anything like me and have a complicated relationship with early mornings, this is a game changer. Also, it’s forgiving—the kind of bake that doesn’t judge if you forgot to buy half-and-half or your apples are a bit sad. (Side note: the hardest part is waiting for it to cool down enough so you don’t scorch your tongue. Ask me how I know…)

Here’s What You’ll Need (And What You Can Swap Out)

Bread: About 1 hearty loaf—brioche is dreamy, but I’ve used basically everything from cheap sandwich bread to sourdough heels. My grandmother used to say challah is best. She may have been onto something, but honestly, I grab whatever’s getting stale.
Apples: 3 medium-large, any variety. Granny Smith perk things up, but honestly, random ones at the bottom of the fruit bowl do just fine.
Eggs: 6. Or, if you’re low, 4 plus a splash more milk—worked for me once in a pinch.
Milk: 2 cups. Whole milk is rich, but I’ve used oat milk (was a bit sweet) and even half water, half cream once. It wasn’t a disaster.
Cinnamon: A heaping tablespoon—yes, that much. Go big or go home, right?
Brown Sugar: Half a cup. Or white sugar with a spoonful of molasses if you’re out (learned this trick here).
Vanilla Extract: 2 teaspoons. Or skip it, and toss in a sprinkle of nutmeg if you like.
Butter: About 4 tablespoons, melted, but more is never really a crime.
Optional bits: Pinch of salt, handful of chopped pecans or walnuts, raisins if you like them (I usually forget them on purpose…)

Ready? Here’s How I Throw It Together

Chop the Bread & Apples: Dice the bread into rough cubes. Doesn’t need to be perfect. Peel and chop apples—I never peel all the skin, a little rustic never hurts. Butter an 8×11-ish baking dish, unless you like scrubbing pans.
Mix Up the Custard: In a big bowl, whisk eggs, milk, cinnamon, vanilla, and sugar. Sometimes I go a bit wild with the cinnamon (hard to resist). This is where I usually sneak a taste—don’t worry, it always looks a bit lumpy.
Combine Stuff: Dump bread and apples into the dish, pour the custard over. Press down gently with your hands or the back of a spoon till it’s all soaked up. (On second thought, don’t worry if some cubes poke out on top. It’ll crisp up nicely.)
Add Toppings: Drizzle melted butter all over. Sprinkle on extra sugar if you want a bit of a crunchy top. I sometimes toss on a handful of chopped nuts… unless I forget, which, uh, happens a lot more than I’ll admit.
Let It Rest: Ideally, let it sit 30 minutes or overnight in the fridge—lets the bread soak up all the eggy goodness. But look, I’ve baked it straight away before. Still good, just not quite as creamy inside.
Bake It: 350°F (about 180°C, give or take) for 40-50 minutes, until the top is golden and the middle isn’t jiggly. (Don’t panic if it puffs up like a soufflé and then deflates. Kind of normal. And honestly, part of its charm.)
Cool and Serve: Let it cool a bit so you don’t burn your face off. Trust me—speaking from painful experience.

What I Wish I’d Known (aka Notes to My Past Self)

If you use super fresh bread, it sometimes gets a bit mushy. Day-old or really, let’s say, enthusiastic crustiness works better.
Peeling the apples makes it a bit softer but I got lazy once and actually liked the little bits of skin for texture.
Don’t panic if the custard looks watery—it firms up as it bakes, promise.

Variations (Some Winners, Some…Not So Much)

Tried swapping apples for pears—pretty good, though somehow less exciting (my kids made faces).
Crammed in chocolate chips once—honestly, a little too sweet, but did get eaten embarrassingly fast.
Tried to make it dairy free with coconut milk. It worked, sort of, but I missed the creamy hug from dairy (so did everyone else, actually).
Threw in blueberries once on a whim—it…didn’t really mesh. You live, you learn!

What If I Don’t Have All the Fancy Equipment?

You really just need a baking dish and a bowl. But if you’re short a whisk, a big fork will do (I’ve even used a chopstick in a pinch—don’t judge). And if your oven’s a bit temperamental—like mine is—just keep an eye on the top so it doesn’t overbrown. No kitchen timer? I prop up my phone on a flour canister and use the clock app. Works fine, except when I get distracted reading Smitten Kitchen while things bake.

How Long Does This Stuff Last? (Spoiler: Not Long Here)

If by some minor miracle you end up with leftovers, it keeps in the fridge 2-3 days just fine. Actually, I think it tastes better the next day (the flavors kind of merge together). You can freeze it, but I never do. In my house, there’s usually a fork-scraped empty dish by mid-afternoon.

Serving Ideas and Family Quirks

Okay, this is important: I love it warm with a dollop of Greek yoghurt on top—better than plain whipped cream, in my not-so-humble opinion. My youngest insists on drowning his in maple syrup. We’ve also served it for brunch topped with vanilla ice cream (don’t knock it till you’ve tried it). Sometimes, just a dusting of powdered sugar is enough. Oh! And coffee. It practically begs for a strong mug of the good stuff.

Things I Messed Up So You Don’t Have To (Pro Tips)

I once skipped resting and poured everything together with barely a pause; ended up with some soggy bites and dry ones. So, give it that twenty minutes or so if you can.
Don’t stint on cinnamon. I did that once out of caution and it tasted a bit…meh. (Is that a real word?)
Trying to use less sugar? I get it, but it actually turns out too bland. Maybe try less on top but keep it inside.

Frequently Asked (and Occasionally Odd) Questions

Can I make this a day ahead?
Absolutely! In fact, it’s better that way. It gives the bread a proper soak. Just pop in the oven the next morning. So easy.
Do I have to use apples?
Nope. Pears, peaches (if you’re lucky enough for summer fruit), or even a handful of cranberries if you fancy tartness. But it won’t be a Cinnamon Apple French Toast Bake at that point, will it?
Can I make this vegan?
Probably—the egg and milk mixture can be swapped for a flax “egg” and plant milks. I’ve only tried almond milk in a pinch, but maybe there are better options out there?
What if I don’t have brown sugar?
Plain white works, or white plus a drizzle of molasses. Or even honey in a pinch (it’s stickier, beware).
Can I halve or double this recipe?
Yep. I’ve thrown this together in a tiny baking dish for just two of us, and once in a roasting pan for the whole street on a snow day. (That was chaos, thanks for asking!)

So there you have it—the gloriously imperfect, utterly comforting Cinnamon Apple French Toast Bake. Not a gourmet masterpiece, but genuinely one of those dishes everyone hopes will make an appearance on the breakfast table. Or lunch. Or, let’s be honest, midnight snack.

Cinnamon Apple French Toast Bake