Hot Cross Buns for Good Friday

Now really, I've never understood why it is that we are meant to eat Hot Cross Buns on Good Friday when we are also meant to be fasting. Particularly since I have a tendency to let my hunger override my piety. As it turns out, Hot Cross Buns were originally intended to be eaten when one broke their Good Friday fast. (That would be in the evening after skipping the first two meals, in case you were wondering. And not what one is supposed to eat with a giant bowl of very strong tea for breakfast, even though that is when they sound heavenly.)

Anyway, I suppose this does make me feel a bit better. After all, I can still keep my image of Jo (from Bleak House) running about the streets of Charles Dickens' London with a little Hot Cross Bun in his hand. Although, I should really choose a different character — one not so tragic and who may have actually stood a chance of procuring one of these delectable little buns, perhaps. (How about Guppy? Is that any better? No, it's not — I'm sticking with Jo.)

If we are striving for accuracy, however, we should bump ourselves over to the Tudor period (1485-1603, give or take) when Hot Cross Buns originated. Apparently they used to be sold throughout the year. However Queen Elizabeth I decided to put her foot down (in her attempt to stamp out Catholicism) and restricted their selling to Christmas, Good Friday, and burials. (Not that I can blame her. I suppose little buns with images of crosses on them are rather menacing.)

Nowadays, if you happen to live in England, you can get Hot Cross Buns year round. (Or so I have read. I've never actually wandered into a Sainsbury or Tesco in hot pursuit.) Yet it is still considered traditional to eat them on Easter. But if you are trying to be right-proper, then the evening of Good Friday is the ticket. And not a moment too soon, if you're like me. Because by that time your head will be throbbing, and you're mad at everyone for absolutely no reason at all, and you have lost all energy to even be bothered with making dinner. And you will be frustrated because what you are supposed to be doing is thinking about Jesus on the cross. (See, I told you I wasn't a very good faster.)

I have actually tried my hand at these two times before with very disappointing results. And I very nearly skipped them this year altogether. I have Michael to thank for their presence, as he gently reminded me that seasonal cooking is, in fact, my thing, so snap the hell out of it. Or something like that anyway. This year they were divine, and I'm not sure if it was the recipe I used (that would be Nigella's) or allowing the dough to raise in the oven. Probably both, I suspect. That being said, they are actually a lot of fun to make. The recipe is rather long, but don't let that deter you. In fact, you are supposed to make the dough and then plunk it in the fridge overnight. That way you can get on with it the next day — in between grousing about and feeling very badly about the fact that you've been grousing about.

Also, every recipe I've looked at has called for bread flour, as opposed to all-purpose. Nigella seems to sum it up the best: 'There's no point going through all this effort and ruining your chances of success over such a small but significant point.' So there you go. Live dangerously if you'd like, but my lovely husband offered to run to the store for a bag and I'm very grateful that he did.

For the Dough
⅔ cup milk
½ stick butter
zest of one orange
1 clove
2 cardamom pods
3 cups bread flour
1 package active dry yeast (1/4 oz)
¾ cup mixed dried fruit (I used raisins and chopped apricots)
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground nutmeg
¼ teaspoon ground ginger
1 egg

For the Egg Wash
1 egg, beaten with a little milk

For the Crosses on the Buns
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
½ tablespoon super-fine sugar
2 tablespoons water

For the Sugar Glaze
1 tablespoon superfine sugar
1 tablespoon boiling water

In a small saucepan, heat the milk, butter, orange zest, clove, and cardamom pods. Once the butter melts, leave to infuse and cool.

Measure the flour, yeast, dried fruit, and spices into a bowl. After the milk reaches 'blood temperature' take out the clove and cardamom, and whisk in the egg. Pour into the dry ingredients.

You can now either knead the dough with your hands or, like me, pull out your handy-dandy KitchenAid mixer with the dough attachment. Knead until smooth and somewhat silky. (The dried fruit will make this not as satiny-smooth as it could otherwise be.) Form the dough into a ball and place in a buttered bowl with plastic wrap. Leave in the fridge overnight.

Take the dough out of the fridge and let it come to room temperature. This was about 2 hours for me.

Punch the dough down and knead again until smooth. Divide the dough into 16 balls. (Simply cut in half, and then cut the halves in half, and the halves in half... You get the idea.) Line your baking sheet with parchment and line up your buns. You want them kind-of snug, but not touching. Using the back of a knife to make an imprint of a cross on each one.

Cover with a kitchen towel and let rise for 45 minutes. (The most brilliant trick I have learned is to put them in a warm oven. Preheat the oven to 200°, turn it off, and put your dough in. It's magical.)

Preheat the oven to 425°.

Brush the buns with your egg wash, and then mix the flour, water, and sugar into a paste. Using a spoon, dribble it onto the indented crosses. (My crosses looked a bit more like Casper the Friendly Ghost, but there it is.) Bake for 15-20 minutes.

Once out of the oven, mix the sugar and boiling water. Quickly brush each one to make it sweet and shiny. Just the way you'll feel after eating one (or maybe it was six, I can't really remember.) Serve with tea, or whatever floats your boat. (Recipe from Feast by Nigella Lawson. Hyperion Publishing, 2004.)