So, Apple Cider Bundt Cake, Right?

I can’t think of autumn without immediately picturing this apple cider bundt cake — it’s the one thing I bake every year when the leaves start to turn and my kitchen smells like a sold-out orchard! Do you know that feeling when Sunday is rainy and all you want is something spiced and sweet to pick at with tea (or, more often, coffee that goes cold while you faff about sneak-eating cake bits)? Yeah, this is that cake. The first time I made it, I flubbed the flip and ended up with a squished mess, but honestly, we still ate half of it warm with spoons. Who needs slices anyway? Let’s just get into it before I get carried away telling you about the time my uncle tried to grill it. That’s a story for another day…

Why You’ll Love This (And Why I Make It Way Too Often)

I usually pull this recipe out (sometimes literally out of a drawer, you should see my recipe notes) when I need something crowd-pleasing but not fussy. My family goes a little bonkers for it, especially if I’ve managed to refrain from eating the crusty sugared bits myself. It’s got this warm, cozy apple-spice thing going on—kind of like if cinnamon toast and apple cider had a baby and went to a cake party. Actually, there’s nothing better on a chilly day except maybe finding an extra piece the next morning. And, let’s be honest, it’s the fastest way I know to make my house smell like a fall candle exploded (in a good way!).

What You’ll Need (Substitutions & Slight Chaos Welcome)

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (or plain flour—nobody will notice the difference, grandma swears by Gold Medal but I use whatever’s on sale)
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon (sometimes I add a pinch more and regret nothing)
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg (if you’re out, allspice is decent but more wintry, just saying)
1/2 teaspoon fine salt
1 1/2 cups apple cider (I’ve tried apple juice in desperation—not quite the same, but it works in a pinch!)
3/4 cup unsalted butter, melted and cooled (salted is honestly fine—just skip a dash of the added salt)
1 cup granulated sugar (sometimes, and I mean rarely, I mix in a handful of brown sugar for a deeper vibe)
2 large eggs
1/2 cup sour cream or thick plain yogurt (Greek yogurt is my last-minute stand-in; no complaints yet!)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
For the topping: 2 tablespoons melted butter, 1/4 cup sugar, and 1 teaspoon cinnamon (give or take, I never measure this bit)

Let’s Make This Cake (It’s Easier Than It Looks)

Preheat & Prep: Get your oven cranking up to 180°C (350°F). Grease a bundt tin well — I mean, really well. The nooks and crannies will snag your cake if you slack off here. If you’ve only got a regular round pan, use it and call it rustic.
Reduce the Cider: Pour the apple cider into a saucepan and boil it down till you have about 1 cup left. This takes 15-ish minutes. Sometimes I get distracted—if you end up with a bit less, top it off with juice or water, it’s fine! Let it cool (sort of important or you get scrambled eggs—guess how I know).
Dry Stuff: In a big bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. This is where I eyeball the spices because who wants to clean another teaspoon?
Wet Stuff: In a separate bowl, whisk the melted butter and sugar until it’s kind of creamy looking, then beat in the eggs. Now, mix in the sour cream (or yogurt), vanilla, and your cooled apple cider concentrate.
Combine: Pour the wet mix into the dry stuff. Gently fold together till it’s just mixed—lumpy is ok, and honestly if it looks a little weird, don’t panic. It evens out. (This is where I sneak a taste. Don’t tell anyone!)
Pan Up: Scrape the batter into your bundt pan. Give it a gentle shake or a whack on the counter to settle out any weird air pockets.
Bake: Into the oven it goes, around 45–55 minutes — a skewer/knife/toothpick should come out with just a few moist crumbs when it’s done (sometimes mine takes an extra 5, because my oven is, frankly, temperamental).
Cool & De-pan: Let it cool in the pan for 15 minutes — I know, it’s hard to wait, but it helps. Flip it onto a wire rack. If you lose a chunk (I almost always do), just stick it back on; nobody’s looking!
Dunk & Sugar: While the cake’s still warm, brush with melted butter and dust (or, honestly, just kind of toss) the cinnamon sugar all over. Yes, the mess is half the fun.

Notes: Stuff I’ve Learned The Hard Way

Don’t try to frost this cake. I gave it a go, it just went soggy… and sad.
Letting the cider properly boil down gives way richer flavor — rushing it just makes it kind of sweet but, like, flat?
If you forget to grease your bundt pan (guilty), a liberal dusting of flour can sometimes save the day. Sometimes not.
I think the cake tastes way better the next day—moister, more apple-y, but the crust gets a bit softer.

Things I’ve Tried (Some Are Actually Good)

I swapped in pear cider once. Not bad, just a bit light. Not my favorite, but worth trying?
Maple syrup swirl: sweet, but the flavor kinda disappears; stick with cinnamon sugar unless you’re feeling wild.
Added a handful of chopped apples a few times—definitely works, but it does make the cake a bit denser. Also, I tried using only whole wheat flour — didn’t love it, came out tough as boots.
If you want to jazz it up, you can try this salted caramel sauce I once found on Sally’s Baking Addiction — it’s lush but, honestly, I almost never bother.

Equipment: Basically, Use What You’ve Got

A bundt pan makes it pretty, but once I just used a regular old loaf pan and it still vanished before sunset.
You’ll want a small saucepan for the cider. Or, if you’re a multitasker, the microwave (just mind the boiling over!).
Electric mixer is lovely, but a whisk and some elbow grease do the trick (just don’t blame me if your arm falls off).

How To Store (But Will It Last?)

It’ll keep in an airtight container on the counter for about 3 days, or in the fridge for nearly a week (though honestly, in my house, it never lasts more than a day — I’m not exaggerating). If you want to freeze it, go ahead, but wrap it tight because it can pick up weird freezer smells. Not much fun in an apple cake.

How I Like To Serve It (Family Quirks Included)

This cake is a standalone star, but we sometimes go overboard and pile it with whipped cream — the real stuff, none of that spray-can business. Or, if Mum is coming over, she’ll bully me (nicely) into making an apple cider glaze. Oh! And try a warmed-up leftover slice with a scoop of vanilla ice cream—that’s a treat and a half.

What I Wish I Knew Sooner (Pro-ish Tips)

Don’t rush the cooling stage, trust me — I once flipped it too soon and ended up with a puddle of goo (tasty, but not cake).
Measuring is great, but if you’re slightly over on the cider, your cake will be extra moist. Not a disaster, but maybe let it bake a bit longer.
If the top is browning too quickly, toss a bit of foil over it — learned that one after, uh, a slight char. Whoops.

FAQ: Stuff People (Actually) Have Asked Me

Do I have to reduce the cider? I mean, you could skip it, but the cake gets so much more apple-y if you do. Up to you, pal.
My cake stuck — help? That bane of my existence! Try gently loosening it with a butter knife. And maybe eat the bits straight from the pan. No shame.
Can I make it gluten free? I’ve done it with a cup-for-cup blend, and it was surprisingly ace. Just be aware it might be a smidge crumbly.
Is this sweet enough for kids? Oh, definitely. Though if yours are sugar monsters, do the cinnamon sugar thick, like you’d coat cinnamon toast. (Which, incidentally, makes for a fun project. Check out this quick cinnamon toast guide here if you’re being extra fancy.)
What’s the best apple cider to use? Honestly, I just use whatever’s in the fridge. If you can find local pressed stuff, more power to you, but store-bought works fine for this.
Bake ahead? Yup, and it’s sometimes even better the next day. Like stew, it gets deeper. If you don’t eat it all, that is.

Apple Cider Bundt Cake: My Cosy Go-To Autumn Recipe