You ever get halfway through a Sunday and think, “Oh, I could sure use something cozy—and, well, sticky”? That’s basically how I stumbled into making these ultra-soft gingerbread cinnamon rolls with serious molasses swagger. Not gonna lie, the first time I tried them, I burnt my thumb on the pan because I got overexcited pulling them out (classic). But they’ve been a reappearance in my kitchen every winter, especially when it gets so cold even the cat refuses to leave the radiator.

Why You’re Gonna Love Baking These

I usually whip up these cinnamon rolls when the clouds look like mashed potatoes, and the house just needs to smell like something other than wet dog (no offense to Alfie). My family hoovers them up before I can blink. The molasses makes them taste like December, and well, if you’ve ever thought cinnamon rolls could use a dark and mysterious twist, you’re basically reading my mind right now. Oh—and I tried skipping the final rise once, thinking I’d outsmart yeast. Regret. Don’t do what I did, unless you like chewy bricks for breakfast (maybe you do?).

Gather Your Ingredients (Substitution Rant Included)

3 cups plain flour (give or take; sometimes I’ll swap in 1 cup bread flour if I have it—it’s nice but not mission critical!)
2 tsp ground ginger (fresh is fun, but makes it kinda spicy, so I stick with ground—my cousin swears by high-end stuff, but looks the same to me)
1 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg (can you leave it out? Yup. Sometimes I forget.)
2 1/4 tsp (1 packet) dry yeast—I’ve accidentally used instant and it was fine, tbh
1 cup warm milk (dairy or oat; soy is a bit funky for this, trust me, tried it)
1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted (if all you got is salted, skip adding extra salt)
1/4 cup dark brown sugar (light works in a pinch—just not as moody)
1 egg (oh, room temperature is great, but half the time I forget and use it cold, so…)
Pinch of salt, or none if you used salted butter above
For the Molasses Filling:

1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened-ish
1/3 cup dark molasses (grandma claims “Brer Rabbit” is the one, but honestly, store brand passes for me!)
2/3 cup brown sugar (dark or light, whatever boredom or pantry gives you)
2 tsp cinnamon (don’t measure too militantly here—smell with your heart)
Big pinch of ground cloves (optional, but it does make them a little more grown up)

For the Frosting:

4 oz cream cheese, room temp (full-fat or the half-fat whatever, it all melts anyway)
3 tbsp butter, soft
1 cup powdered sugar (plus maybe a few more spoonfuls if you like it really thick)
1 tsp vanilla (the real stuff if you got it, or fake, no judgment)

My (Not So) Perfect Step-by-Step Directions

Make the Dough: Stir the yeast into the warm milk and let it hang out five-ish minutes, till frothy. Don’t fuss if it’s a bit sad—should still puff up later. Whisk your flour, ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt in a big bowl. Add in brown sugar, egg, melty butter, and your (hopefully alive) yeast milk. Work it till it gets stretchy and elastic, about 5–7 min. I sometimes get bored and stop early; it’s survived.
First Rise: Plonk dough in a clean bowl, cover with a tea towel (mine has a weird picture of a chicken on it), let it rise 1–1.5 hours. Should double in size, unless your kitchen is freezing, then yell at the radiator for me.
Mix the Filling: Squish the butter, molasses, sugar, cinnamon, and cloves together till smooth and lovely. I use the back of a fork; a mixer is easier but that means more washing up. Taste is mandatory. No one will stop you.
Assemble: Flour a surface, wrestle out your dough, roll into a rectangle-ish thing, about 9×15 inch if you’re into numbers. Spread all that filling (keep back a tablespoon for sneaky tastes). Roll up tight, pinch the edge to seal. Slice with a serrated knife or unflavored dental floss (yep, really!). Expect wonky-shaped rolls; who cares?
Second Rise: Butter a 9×13-inch pan (or whatever’s cleanest). Arrange rolls, cover, and give them another 30–40 minutes to puff up. Use this time for tea or yelling at the dog.
Bake: Oven at 180C/350F, in for about 24–28 minutes. They should look bronzed and smell like every candle you’ve ever bought.
Frosting Time: Whip cream cheese, soft butter, powdered sugar, and vanilla together. Spread over the rolls when they’re still warm—somehow it sinks into the gooey bits and that’s the best part. (I eat the middle roll first. Always. No shame.)

Real Notes from Messy Experiments

If the dough feels sticky, just flour your hands, or ignore it, they’ll puff anyway.
I sometimes leave the dough in the fridge overnight—tastes more like bakery stuff, but requires actual future planning, so, pros and cons.
Forgot the egg before—texture wasn’t perfect, but still edible (dog approved, anyway).

Variations I’ve Actually Tried (And One Flop)

Added chopped pecans or walnuts to the filling—granddad loved it, kids picked them out, so up to you!
I swapped the molasses once for maple syrup (ran out)—tasted very good but, you know, not really gingerbread anymore.
Once tried orange zest in the dough. Thought it’d be festive. Nope—too weird with the molasses. Wouldn’t recommend, unless you’re feeling particularly wild.

If You Don’t Have the Gear, No Worries

I always say you don’t need a stand mixer, but—honestly—it’s easier with one. Otherwise, elbow grease and a wooden spoon do the trick. For rolling, use a wine bottle if you don’t have a rolling pin. And if you lack a big baking pan, bunch them together on a cookie sheet; they’ll lean into each other and no one will know.

Ultra-Soft Gingerbread Cinnamon Rolls with Molasses Filling

How to Store These (If You Even Manage To)

Technically, airtight container, room temperature, 2–3 days—they get a bit chewy at room temp but still good for dunking. You can zap them in the microwave for 20 sec. But let’s be honest; in my house, nothing lasts the day. Once I tried hiding a few and forgot where I put them (hand to heart).

Serving: How We Do It Around Here

For us, rolls go on a big chipped plate, slathered in that melty frosting, with mugs of strong coffee or (if you’re under 10) cocoa. Sundays get better that way. My sister sometimes plops a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top, but she’s a sweet-tooth bandit.

Lessons I’ve Had to Learn the Hard Way

If you rush the final rise, you’ll regret it—the dough needs that time to get pillowy. Once I tried to bake early since I was late for work, ended up with tough rolls and a grumpy breakfast.
Don’t skimp on greasing your pan, or you’ll be chiseling out the rolls like an archaeologist (trust me, it’s a pain).
I thought more molasses would be even better—turns out, too much makes them soggy and a bit bitter. Whoops. Actually, stick to the amounts above.

FAQ (Real Questions Friends Asked Me)

Can I make these vegan? Actually, yes-ish: swap butter and milk for vegan stuff, use a flax egg—just don’t skip the oil or they dry out quick.
What’s the deal with molasses? Can I use other sweeteners? You can! Maple syrup or honey if desperate, but your gingerbread flavor will head off in a new direction—it’s still nice, though. More details on types of molasses over at Sally’s Baking Addiction (her guide is great!).
My dough didn’t rise; what happened? Probably drafty kitchen, old yeast, or my favorite: impatience. Give it more time; maybe move it somewhere warmer (on top of the oven, I sometimes put it on the boiler… don’t tell my landlord).
Can I freeze them? Yep! Freeze after baking, skip frosting till after you reheat. Perfect for surprise guests (or midnight snacks…I won’t tell).
Why are there always leftover ends? Honestly, I snack on them while the rest bake. Or toss them into a trifle, kinda like Nigella’s bread pudding treatment. Not a waste!

If you ever do try these, shoot me a note or tag me somewhere—I love seeing other folks’ (sometimes wobbly) swirls! If you’re ever after more everyday baking ideas, you might like King Arthur’s soft cinnamon roll recipe, too (I borrowed inspiration there ages ago).

Anyhow. Happy rolling, good luck, and may your frosting always be plentiful!

Ultra-Soft Gingerbread Cinnamon Rolls with Molasses Filling