James Holloway
A slow morning's work worth getting up for
There is something quietly satisfying about a weekend breakfast that begins the night before. Sourdough crumpets sit in that happy space between baking and cooking on the hob: you need a starter, a bowl, a few metal rings and a good twenty minutes of patience at the griddle. Get them right and you'll have crumpets with proper deep holes — the sort that hold a melting knob of salted butter and a spoonful of last autumn's damson jam without collapsing into a soggy mess.
Shop-bought crumpets are fine in their way, but they're steamed and uniform. A sourdough version has a faint tang, a tender crumb and a crust that crisps beautifully under the grill. Once you've made a batch, you'll find yourself planning Saturday around them.
Start with a starter that means business
The single most important thing is that your starter is bubbly and active — not merely alive. Feed it the evening before or first thing in the morning and wait until it has doubled, smells pleasantly sour and is riddled with bubbles. A sluggish starter makes a flat, dense crumpet.
For a batch of about ten crumpets you'll want:
- 250g active sourdough starter
- 250g strong white bread flour
- 300–330ml warm water or half water, half milk
- 1 tsp fine sea salt
- 1 tsp caster sugar (optional, but it helps the colour)
- ½ tsp bicarbonate of soda, dissolved in a tablespoon of warm water, added just before cooking
Whisk everything except the bicarbonate into a thick but pourable batter — looser than bread dough, closer to double cream. Cover and leave somewhere cool for 6–8 hours, or overnight. In a warm kitchen, 3–4 hours will do. You're after a batter that's risen, frothy and smells gently sour.
Rings, griddle and the right heat
You need metal crumpet rings, roughly 9cm across and 3cm deep. Cheap ones buckle; decent heavy rings are worth the investment and last a lifetime. Grease them well inside with butter or a neutral oil, and grease the griddle too.
A flat cast-iron griddle or a heavy frying pan over a medium-low flame is ideal. You want the surface at about 180–190°C — hot enough that a drop of batter sizzles quietly, but not so hot that the base scorches before the bubbles have had time to climb. If you have an infrared thermometer, use it. If not, test with one crumpet before committing the whole batch.
Just before cooking, whisk the dissolved bicarbonate through the batter. It gives a final push of lift and helps those characteristic holes open up. Leave the batter to sit for 15 minutes; it will visibly froth.
Cooking for deep holes and crisp bases
Set the greased rings on the griddle and let them heat for a minute or two. Ladle in batter to about 1cm depth — no deeper, or the middle won't set before the base burns.
Now leave them alone. This is the hard part. Over the next 8–12 minutes the surface will gradually transform: first small bubbles, then a network of holes, then a matte, dry-looking top with lacy edges pulling slightly away from the ring. Resist the urge to poke or move them.
When the tops are set and the holes are deep and open, you have two choices. Traditionalists slip a thin palette knife under each ring, lift it away, and flip the crumpet for just 30–60 seconds to colour the top. Others simply slide them onto a baking tray and finish under a hot grill for a minute. Either way, the crumpet should be pale gold underneath, springy, and full of holes on top.
Keep finished crumpets warm in a clean tea towel while you cook the rest, re-greasing the rings between batches.
If it doesn't go to plan
- No holes: the heat was too high, the batter too thick, or your starter was under-active. Lower the flame and thin the batter slightly with warm water.
- Burned bases, raw middles: the griddle is too hot. Turn it down and give each batch a little longer.
- Batter running under the rings: they weren't sitting flat, or you overfilled them. Press them down firmly before ladling.
- Flat, sour crumpets: the batter over-fermented. Next time shorten the rest or use a cooler spot.
Butter, jam and the rest of the weekend
Serve them hot, in stacks, with salted butter that melts into every hole, and homemade jam alongside — damson, blackberry, or a sharp hedgerow jelly. A poached egg on top turns them into a proper brunch.
Any leftovers keep for two days in a tin, though they'll never be quite as good as the first morning. They freeze well: open-freeze, then bag them, and refresh straight from frozen in a toaster or under the grill. That way a taste of a slow Saturday is never more than a few minutes away — which, on a grey Tuesday in February, is no small thing.
