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 The spices in the buns were said to symbolise those used to anoint Christ’s body, and the cross - originally made with pastry rather than icing - was a nod to the crucifixion (obviously).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!

Free Regency Recipe: Mrs Austen’s Boiled Potatoes

what excellent boiled potatoes. Many years since I have had such an exemplary vegetable. To which of my fair cousins should I compliment the excellence of the cooking?"

Mr Collins
Pride & Prejudice
1813

A variation of this now-famous line from Austen's most popular novel appears in the 2005 film adaptation starring Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen.

    It's a mark of the wealth Mr Collins is to inherit that Mrs Bennett serves potatoes at her supper table. They were originally reserved as a dish for gentry. The Bennetts' may not have had 'savings', as is made clear in the novel, but they certainly had income. Longbourn was a profitable estate, and this dish at table for their guest (for whom Mrs Bennett held such hopes) is an indication of their gentility – but this wasn’t always the case when it came to potatoes. There was a time they indicated a family who could not afford flour.

    The Austens lived at Steventon from 1775-1802. Potatoes were grown there in Mrs Austen’s kitchen garden from 1773. It must be remembered that including these in the vegetable garden for regular consumption at the time was unusual. Remember that while Jane Austen lived there with her father, mother and sister until their removal to Bath, and the Steventon rectory was a largeish home with a pleasant situation, they were not considered well off. The Steventon rectory, for example, was not their home. It belonged to the church. When Mr Austen retired, the entire family had to move to Bath – leaving Mrs Austen’s precious garden behind.

    After the death of Mr Austen in 1805, the Austen ladies were kept in home, hearth – and yes, potatoes - through the goodwill of their male relations. While this is not unusual for the times, when Jane Austen wrote about the dependency of Regency-era women, and how this restricted their options, it’s my belief that she spoke from more than mere observation. She wrote from her keenly felt lived experience – which, in the late 1790s, may not have included bread.

Why didn’t they have bread?

There were unprecedented weather events even back then. Severe floods and cold snaps damaged the wheat harvests around that time.

    The historian W. M. Stern discusses the low wheat yield in 1794, followed by a worse crop in 1795, leading to a bread shortage in Britain. That these shortages had natural causes did nothing to calm the public. The year 1795 was marked by several riots caused by anger over food scarcity – including one I’m proud to call Revolt of the Housewives, due to the role of women in the disturbances.

    It was the women rioters who demanded – and achieved – the redistribution of available food stores among the English. They set fair prices for their ‘taken’ food and reimbursed the producers. In some cases, it appears the King’s soldiers were complicit. (One imagines they had families to feed as well.) 

    This civil unrest was as disturbing to the aristocracy, as it was to the rest of the populace – because of the belief that similar shortages had led to the French Revolution. The storming of the Bastille (1789) was only a half dozen years prior – and all the landed gentry in England knew what became of those landowners. About 16,000 people lost their heads in France between 1793 and 1794 – including of course the French royal family.

What does any of this have to do with potatoes?

Right – potatoes. 

    It was the grain shortage in 1794 that led to the popularity of the potato as an alternative staple of the British tea or supper table. It's said that Jane Austen's mother dug her own potatoes, even in her old age when she lived at Chawton with her daughters.

    Mrs Austen enjoyed her potatoes ‘dressed’ according to this recipe from Hannah Glasse's The Art of Cookery (1747):

Dressing Potatoes:

1. Boil them in as little water as you can, without burning your pan.
2. Cover the saucepan close, and when the potato skins begin to crack, they are boiled enough.
3. Drain the water out.
4. Let them stand covered for a minute or two.
5. Peel them, lay them in your plate, and pour melted butter over them.
6. Next, lay them on a griddle iron til they are browned and crisping - then send them to table.

I've varied the original Regency-era recipe a little for my modern oven:

Ingredients:

• 32 oz (900g or 2lbs) potatoes, peeled and cut in quarters.
• 3 tablespoons of melted butter
• 1-2 teaspoons of flour

Method:

1. Preheat your oven to 218°C / 425°F
2. Place potatoes in a large sauce pan with enough water to just cover them.
3. Allow them to boil furiously over medium to high heat for 20 minutes, or until they are tender when
        stuck with a fork. Remove them and arrange on a baking sheet.
4. Melt the butter over a medium heat.
5. Whisk in the flour quickly and remove butter from heat. Do not allow this sauce to boil.
6. Pour the melted butter over the potatoes and bake them until they are brown and crispy
        (about 10-15 minutes).
Serves 4-6.

Let me know how you get on if you give these a try. You can find me at www.clyverose.com. 

All my Regency-era novels contain delights for foodies. See if you can find the herbed mushrooms in this one.

I'm currently researching the rioting housewives too - because women have been underestimated for far too long - don't you think?