The Chosen Bun

Why hot cross buns are the pinnacle of seasonal sweet treats

Hot cross buns. They do anything but make me cross; I am nothing short of ecstatic when I eat one.

The seasonality of these doughy jiffies of joy revolves like absolutely no other bread-based product in our calendar year, around the moon. A gluten-based horoscope lands every year with same sentiment: This Easter you will feel hopeful for new beginnings and will be sated with spicy sweetness. But, be careful. Having too much fun, in whatever way you choose this bank holiday could give you a health-based complex. Think about balancing your needs. Savour moments of pleasure with care. 

The hot cross bun is the culinary mark of the season; the perfect partner to salted butter. Of course, there are those who are clearly not well in the head who choose to eat them with margarine or worse still, cold. The toasting of hot cross buns is all part of the fun; a raisin jammed in the toaster’s tiny wiring implement; a mis-slice resulting in a slightly singed edge. It is almost as if by design, they are there to remind us that no good thing is perfect; the wigglier the cross, the better. These buns hold on to the rich cinnamon and cloves of Christmas but have the zesty, fruity promise of summer with each bite. 

When the time comes around, supermarkets do nothing but overkill for 3 hot-cross weeks of the year: a chocolate orange chip here; a banoffee filled middle there and; the worst — a partnership with cheese and marmite. Those of you who read ‘Mind Your Ps & Queue’ may be familiar with my condiment addiction. Marmite is up there for me (close second to Frank’s Hot Sauce) but it does not belong in a hot cross bun. A hot cross bun is already perfectly balanced. The only savoury coalescence it should have is with salted butter (ideally, Lurpak). 

Nothing else signals the start of spring like a hot cross bun. Other confectionary may mark gluttonous times (see: Creme Eggs and Quality Street) but the long shelf life of chocolate means you can sometimes find an egg hidden on the bottom shelf of a corner shop in January (joyous) or, discover a sharing tin at the back of the cupboard in May (less joyous — it’s likely all your favourites will be gone). 

The hot cross bun is the pinnacle of seasonal sweet treats. They are an acceptable breakfast food. They can be eaten as a bed time snack. They have a cumulus cloud texture which mimics the first aerial fluff backlit by blue skies. They are eaten on mornings that are brighter, lighter and with sunbeams refracting through windows. (Tip: add daffodils for added impact.) They are available all year round but they hit different after the clocks go back. They taste of new beginnings; of spring being sprung. They taste of hope. 

If you research their origins, you’ll discover that hot cross buns are a morbid, sick, disgusting thing; the cross symbolic of crucifixion. The spices are said to represent those used to embalm Jesus’ body after his death? Quite frankly devilish, and absolutely, devilishly delicious. One a penny, two a penny and happy to gain the pounds eating them. They’re worth it.