Holy Hot Buns - & a Free Extract

This time of year has my thoughts turning to Easter and Easter traditions. 

You’ve heard the cry, and if you have small children, you’ve probably heard it on repeat: 

Hot cross buns! Hot cross buns!
One a penny, two a penny—hot cross buns!

Turns out, this catchy little jingle has been ringing through the streets for centuries. It was first published in 1798’s Christmas Box, but a slightly older version popped up in 1733’s Poor Robin’s Almanack, proving that even in the 18th century, people were ready to riot over these spiced, fruit-studded delights.

Back in the day, hot cross buns weren’t just a breakfast treat; they were a controversial baked good. The Puritans under Elizabeth I decided that these buns were too Catholic for everyday consumption - apparently, the cross on top was a little too on-the-nose. To avoid religious bun-related chaos, they restricted sales to Good Friday, Christmas, and burials. Bakers caught defying this rule had to donate their entire stock to the poor. Imagine being caught in possession of illegal pastries!

But come Good Friday, all bets were off. After 40 days of Lenten sacrifice, during which dairy and eggs were off-limits, people were more than ready for their long-awaited bun binge. The spices in the buns were said to symbolise those used to anoint Christ’s body, and the cross - originally made with pastry rather than icing - was a nod to the crucifixion (obviously). 

By breakfast time, no one was holding back. Even Dr. Samuel Johnson, that great man of letters, wasn’t above indulging. In The Life of Samuel Johnson (1791), Boswell reports: "On the 9th of April [1773], being Good Friday, I breakfasted with him on tea and cross-buns …" Clearly, some traditions never change!

By 1836, Figaro in London was poking fun at the bun-feasting masses, claiming that eating hot cross buns had become a sacred duty:

"It is a most comfortable thing when any kind of eatable commanded by religion happens to be Nice, and we must say even we feel a holy and comfortable glow come over us when we feel that we Ought to substitute for the plain baker’s bread, the more savoury, and more sacred substance, called Hot Cross Buns."

Let’s be honest - they had a point. There’s nothing quite as satisfying as munching on a warm, spiced bun slathered in butter while convincing yourself it’s all in the name of tradition. If you’d like to bake your own historically accurate hot cross buns, here’s a recipe from 1825. It involves coriander, mace, and an open fire, so for best results, I recommend travelling back in time.

1825 Hot Cross Buns Recipe

(From Five Thousand Receipts by Colin MacKenzie, 1825)

Ingredients

• 2.5 lbs of fine flour
• ½ lb sifted sugar
• Coriander seed, cinnamon, and mace (powdered)
• ½ lb butter
• ½ pint milk
• 3 tbsp thick yeast
• Pinch of salt

Method:

1. Warm the flour by setting it near the fire (presumably while adjusting your bonnet and fanning yourself dramatically).
2. Melt the butter in the milk, add the yeast, and mix it into a dough.
3. Shape into buns and place them on a tin.
4. Let them rise for 15 minutes by the fire while covering with flannel (not your best petticoat).
5. Brush with warm milk and bake in a moderate oven (which, in 1825, meant anything from “barely warm” to “blazing inferno”).
6. Mark a cross on top before baking.

For those of us who don’t have a 19th-century fireplace, a modern version appears below with slightly more precise instructions.

Easter Extract

Here's an extract from my award-winning Regency romance Always a Princess, in which a traditional Lancashire Easter day is observed at Clifton Hall - with buns in attendance of course.

From across the lawn came music that drew all eyes to The Nutter’s Dance. The procession pranced, leaped, and jogged across the Park. Wil recognised the traditional characters, from the Noble Youth to the Soldier Brave. One of Syeira’s sisters was even dressed as the Lady Gay. The Old Toss-Pot teased the children with its pretend tail so successfully that even Syeira could not contain her laughter. Wil supposed the actor could only be Janfri. Valkin strummed an instrument that bore a closer resemblance to a lute than anything Wil had yet seen. The players all performed to banging Romany tambourines while the children clapped in time and stamped their feet. He watched Syeira clapping and smiling at the children. Princess Brishen was granted the honour of judging the winner of the egg rolling. To Wil’s great delight Lydia won the Easter egg roll, although she confessed that Janfri had helped her practise all week so the win wasn’t really all hers.
    Afterward, the parade of pace-eggers made their way over to the giggling group of children, collecting all the broken eggshell, lest the old legends come true and witches return to Lancashire. Next, tea was served on the lawn of Clifton Park. Wil, Roger, and a myriad of newly-arrived guests joined the children for fresh-baked Easter buns and ginger beer. Wil was pleased to see several of the Romany children joining in, with Eddy keeping a sharp eye out for any hint of disrespect. The children sat to watch the mumming play before chasing after the pace-eggers who led them all in a lively parade across the grounds, calling all present to follow. Wil saw Syeira extend her hand and before he knew what he was about he took it, Lydia running to join them on the Princess’ other side.

 

Modern Hot Cross Buns Recipe

Ingredients

• 1 cup (240 mL) milk
• 4 tsp (20 mL) water
• 1 cake fresh yeast
• 3 cups (720 mL) all-purpose flour
• 1/3 cup (80 mL) sugar
• 1 tsp (5 mL) salt
• 1/4 tsp (1.25 mL) cinnamon
• 1/4 tsp (1.25 mL) nutmeg, grated
• 1 egg, beaten
• 1/4 cup (60 mL) melted butter
• 1 cup (240 mL) currants

Method:

1. Heat milk and water until lukewarm.
2. Mix yeast with ½ cup (120 mL) flour and stir into the tepid milk mixture. Let sit until frothy.
3. In a separate bowl, mix the rest of the flour, sugar, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg.
4. Stir egg and melted butter into the yeast mixture, then add the dry ingredients and fruit.
5. Knead the dough and let it rise for about an hour (no need for flannel, unless you’re feeling nostalgic).
6. Shape into 12 buns, mark a cross on top, and let them rise again for 30 minutes.
7. Bake at 375°F (190°C) for 15 minutes or until golden brown.

Whether you go for the 1825 historical experience or the modern, slightly more user-friendly method, there’s no doubt that hot cross buns remain a beloved tradition. So this year, grab some butter, brew a cup of tea, and enjoy the fact that you don’t have to worry about a Puritan bun ban.

Happy bun-eating!

A Regency-era recipe for roast goose.

Roast goose at Christmas is a culinary tradition steeped in rich flavours and festive indulgence. The succulent, golden-brown bird takes centre stage on many holiday tables, offering a delightful departure from more common meats. It's crispy skin offers tender, juicy meat, creating a mouthwatering combination that embodies the essence of Christmas feasts. The choice of goose is not just a culinary preference; it's also of historical and cultural significance, harking back to medieval Christmas feasts where the goose was a symbol of abundance and prosperity. Its popularity held well into the Regency era.

    Roast goose was a traditional holiday dish in Regency England, for the simple reason that it was relatively cheap to both ‘keep’ a goose, and fatten one for a season or two until Christmastide. It was both a traditional holiday table meat, as well as an affordable one. for many Regency families, even those who weren't terribly wealthy.

 “If the skin is thick and tough, and the bill and legs a dark reddish yellow, rough and hairy, do not buy the goose.”
Miss Leslie’s Complete Cookery

Roast goose features rather heavily (and deliciously) in my most recent Regeny-era release A Holiday Season at Clifton Hall, so I figured it was time for a recipe.

“Oh, and we must have a goose,” Carter added. “For the Christmas feast.”
“The lady Lydia is attempting to procure such a bird.” Chal shook his head. “I do not grasp the significance of fowl among the English at Christmas, but she insists it’s necessary.”
“I must agree with the lady.”
A Holiday Season at Clifton Hall

Your Regency Roast Goose Recipe:

Preparing your goose:

1. When preparing your goose for cooking, reserve the giblets for making gravy. 
2. To reduce its strong taste, soak your goose in a weak solution of salt and water for several hours before cooking. 
3. For older geese, briefly immerse them in boiling water for five minutes. After washing the goose inside and out, truss it to give it a round and compact appearance, as its spacious body requires ample stuffing.
4. To accompany your goose, serve plenty of apple sauce made from juicy apples stewed until dry, sweetened, and flavoured with grated lemon zest and juice.

An ugly vein throbbed at the curate’s temple. “I’m not claiming anything, Mr Clifton. My poultry house has been rifled, sir. I’m told three of my geese are gone.”
A Holiday Season at Clifton Hall

Roasting your Christmas goose:

1. Wipe the inside of the goose with a cloth and sprinkle salt and pepper. 
2. Stuff your goose with well-boiled potatoes mashed with butter or gravy. Alternatively, sweet potatoes or boiled chestnuts mashed with butter or gravy make excellent stuffings.
3. Fill the goose with stuffing, pressing it firmly without completely filling the cavity to account for swelling during cooking. 
4. Then coat your goose with sweet lard or butter. Place in a pan with giblets, neck, etc. Add two tea cups of boiling water, then roast in a hot oven, basting frequently. 
5. Turn for even browning. Serve with gravy or onion sauce.

In A Holiday Season at Clifton Hall, the geese take most of the day to cook - but that’s me using my regular old gas oven. Regency-era cooks used something like this:

Mrs Edwards looked at Stari. “I’m coming to tell you of three geese we found in the scullery this dawn, fresh-killed and fat. Farmed geese, too. Large as the birds are, Cook and I set them to roast soon as we could else they’ll never be done through. We’ve the Romany princess to thank for her rosemary, sage and black pepper leaves.” She rounded on Mr Oates. “There, now. Are you satisfied, sir?”
A Holiday Season at Clifton Hall