There are some things that are just quintessentially Easter. Of course, you've got your chocolate bunnies and a plethora of egg-shaped treats, but for me the holiday isn't complete without an Easter Lamb Cake (a German/Eastern European tradition) or a batch of hot cross buns.
I suppose that's because these treats emphasize the Christian aspect of the holiday (although it's been hotly debated that
they have their pagan roots, too) while still allowing me to get my hands dirty in the kitchen and fill my belly with delicious foods.
Hot cross buns hold another special place in my heart - right up there with bangers-and-mash, Cadbury's chocolate, and golden syrup-rich flapjacks - in my treasured food memories of childhood in England. Each spring, I'd look forward to the appearance of the soft, spiced, currant-studded buns, and spend the few weeks of their short season trying to enjoy as many of them as possible.
These days, the buns are sold practically year round, but they weren't always so ubiquitous. In fact, these doughy delights were actually banned by Oliver Cromwell during the Protectorate, when their religious/Catholic associations were considered a threat. I guess that brings a whole new meaning to the phrase 'dangerously good' (and I'll bet you didn't know you'd get a history lesson today)!
In all seriousness, though, the hot cross bun does have a fascinating history (you can read about it in greater detail
here), and is surrounded by a whole host of interesting legends (you can read about them in greater detail
here). Traditionally, the buns are prepared and eaten on Good Friday, as a celebration of the end of the Lenten season (i.e. "yay we can eat butter and sugar again - lets have some sticky-sweet buns to celebrate") and in preparation for the celebration of Easter (hence the cross). It's said that buns prepared and eaten on Good Friday will never mold, and that such buns, if kept, have all sorts of powers in the home. I'm not sure I'm willing to put these tales to the test, but I am willing to go out on a limb and say that you
absolutely must make these buns this Easter.
I haven't been this pleased with a recipe in quite a while - to the extent that I didn't make even a single alteration. Of course, that's also because I spent hours (and I mean
hours) searching for the perfect recipe beforehand. There seems to have been a surge in popularity of these treats Stateside in recent years, and while I'm sure that's a good thing, I wanted a version that would replicate, as exactly as possible, the hot cross buns of my British youth.
I pored over dozens of recipes before rejecting them on some grounds or other. Some had no currants, some had no sugar (
everyone knows that hot cross buns are sweet,
Nigella), and some were just tarted up cinnamon rolls (I'm looking at you,
Pioneer Woman).
Let me just clear this up before we proceed:
real hot cross buns don't have icing crosses. Ever. I'm not usually one to object to icing, but somehow it seems to go against the wholesome, traditional, and somewhat ascetic nature of these 'treats'. The real method is to use a paste of flour and water, with maybe a bit of sugar added in. That's all. Got it? (Sorry to be so dogmatic, but you don't mess with my hot cross buns - you just don't!).
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Proper flour crosses before being baked into goldeny goodness |
As you can see, I have high standards when it comes to hot cross buns. The more recipes I perused, the more I despaired of ever finding The One (apparently,
I'm not the only one who's had this dilemma) - and then, suddenly, there it was. The perfect recipe for hot cross buns comes courtesy of a Sydney-based food blog called
Citrus and Candy. The recipe is given in metric/by weight measurements, which is good news for authenticity and deliciousness, but bad news for the average American cook. I certainly hope you can find a scale and follow along - otherwise, here's a
decent-looking recipe in imperial measurements (but be warned: I can't vouch for it's authenticity
or deliciousness!).
If you're still reading, I'll assume you've decided to try the metric recipe. Congratulations, your world-of-hot-cross-buns is about to be rocked! This recipe turns out a dozen of the most perfectly spiced, perfectly moist buns, each of them generously studded with soft raisins and topped with a thin, perfectly shaped flour cross.
For those of you inexperienced in baking bread at home, this recipe also serves as a great initiation. There were several points at which I thought things might go wrong (my dough was very moist at first, my cross paste was a little thin, and I had to substitute strawberry-rhubarb jam for the more traditional apricot glaze), but yet the buns turned out
absolutely perfect. Perhaps the rumors of divine protection are true, or perhaps it's just a really good recipe. Either way, I hope I've convinced you that you absolutely must make them: these buns really are dangerously good!