I’ve made a lot of crisps in my life. Cherries, apples, you name it. But when it comes to cherry crisp, this is the method I stick with. Why? Because it’s reliable. It hits you with the straight-up, honest punch of sweet and tart from the cherries, sealed under a hot, golden crust of oats, flour, and brown sugar. There’s nothing fancy going on here—just solid ingredients and real technique, the stuff that has kept Buffalo kitchens running through more blizzards than I can count.
You want comfort? Try this: last February, after shoveling knee-high snow for an hour, I made this cherry crisp. The smell alone—cherries thickening in their juice while the topping turns dark and crisp—was enough to make me forget the frozen driveway. After the first bite? Heat in your bones, in the best way. My grandmother always said, “You can’t argue with a full belly.” She was onto something.
The best part? It’s foolproof. I’ve messed this up on purpose—didn’t drain the cherries, eyeballed the cornstarch—and it still comes out good. No tricks. No soft jazz or gentle caresses. We’re not making a spa treatment here. You mix, you layer, you bake, you eat. The oven handles most of the work, infusing that oat topping with real cherry syrup. This is food that makes you glad you own an oven.
To make the Cherry Crisp, you will need the following ingredients:
Place a rack in the center of the oven and preheat it to 375 °F. Lightly coat a 9×9-inch pan or 11×7-inch baking dish with nonstick spray. Set aside.
In a large bowl, gently stir 5 cups pitted cherries with ⅓ cup granulated sugar, 2 tablespoons cornstarch, 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice, ½ teaspoon pure vanilla extract, and ¼ teaspoon pure almond extract until evenly coated. If using sour cherries, add 2 more tablespoons sugar to the filling.
Pour the cherry filling into the prepared baking dish in an even layer. Add any juices from the bottom of the bowl too.
In a medium bowl, stir together 1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats, ⅓ cup all-purpose flour, ⅓ whole-wheat flour, ½ cup lightly packed brown sugar, 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, and ½ teaspoon kosher salt.
Pour in ½ cup melted butter. Stir until the mixture is combined and evenly moistened.
Sprinkle the topping evenly over the cherry filling.
Bake for 30 to 40 minutes or until the filling is bubbly and the topping is golden brown.
Remove from the oven and let stand 10 minutes to cool slightly.
Serve warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, a dollop of whipped cream or yogurt.
No complicated gadgetry here. You need a 9-by-9-inch pan or an 11-by-7-inch baking dish. I’ll say it now—a heavy dish gives you an even bake, but use what you’ve got. Oven mitts, unless you like playing with pain. You will need a large bowl for the cherry filling and a smaller one for the topping. Grab a wooden spoon or spatula. If you’re going with fresh cherries, a cherry pitter makes life easier, or just go for the ones that already have the pits gone. If you’re the kind that likes every oat coated just right, pull out a whisk for the topping. Simple. Functional. Ready to work.
Number one: If you use frozen cherries, thaw and drain them or face a soggy, heavy mess. I learned this the hard way. Wet cherries equal a limp top—nobody wants that. Lay them out, let them dry off. Done.
Cornstarch is your workhorse. It turns loose cherry juice into a thick, glossy sauce that won’t run out all over your plate. Don’t guess here—put in the full amount. That “just enough” is the key between soup and crisp.
Your oats matter. Grab the old-fashioned rolled kind. Instant oats turn to dust and steel-cut ones stay rocks. These give you a real crunch, the kind you want against the syrupy filling. Drown your topping mix in melted butter (yes, all of it!), stir until every flake is shiny. That’s where the golden, crisp top comes from.
I can’t leave out almond extract. Add it to the filling, and suddenly the cherries wake up—nutty, a little floral, the kind of aroma that makes people wander in asking what’s baking. If you skip it, the whole thing still works, but you lose a good trick.
Want extra crunch? Toss chopped pecans or almonds into the topping. They toast up in the oven and give the whole dessert a rugged edge—like a cherry pie put on a toolbelt. Try it once and you might not look back.
Feeling restless, or cherries are a little scarce? Add a cup of blueberries, raspberries, or blackberries. It ups the tang and makes the color next level. Just taste-test and dial the sugar up or down, since some berries are pretty sharp.
The best way? Hot from the oven with melting vanilla ice cream. Nothing fancy there, just a classic contrast: cold and creamy run into bubbling, deep red fruit. Don’t have ice cream? A spoonful of whipped cream or even plain yogurt does the trick for me.
If you want to make it seem like you tried harder, dust with a little powdered sugar or drop a mint leaf up top. I do it when company’s coming, but otherwise skip the garnish. Coffee is my usual side—just black, to cut the sweetness. Or cold milk, because that’s what I grew up with. Real food, honest flavors, zero fuss.
Absolutely, canned cherries are fine. Just drain them well—if there’s syrup, dump most of it. Canned cherries run sweeter, so cut back the sugar if you know you don’t have a sweet tooth. As long as you’ve got cherries, you’re on track.
If you’ve got it, use it. If you don’t, nobody will yell at you—just use a splash more vanilla. Almond brings out the “real cherry” flavor, but this dessert won’t sink without it.
If anything survives the first round, keep it in a tight container in the fridge. Good for three days, easy. When you want a warm piece, heat it low and slow in the oven—breathe in, enjoy the topping getting crisp again.
Yep. Put the cherry filling and topping in separate bowls in the fridge. When you’re ready, throw them together in the dish and bake. That oven lift-off with fresh crisp is worth the extra few minutes.
No problem. Swap the flours for a gluten-free flour blend (the all-purpose sort works best) and check your oats say gluten-free right on the bag. The rest stays true to the blueprint.
As we celebrate all the timeless classics in home cooking, I can't help but think of an old favorite: Cherry Crisp. This delightful dessert is a testament to the beauty of simple ingredients coming together to create something truly special. Trustworthy and adaptable, this old-fashioned recipe is incredibly easy to make and delivers comfort that pleases every palate. Whether you’re a novice in the kitchen or a seasoned pro, I guarantee you’ll put this one on repeat.
I’ve made a lot of crisps in my life. Cherry crisp is my favorite!
