Hot cross buns are traditionally eaten on Good Friday in England, but we always had them throughout Lent in New York. John and I thought of them about the same time. We didn’t find any in the supermarket, so I earmarked a bit of the refrigerator dough for them. Instead of kneading candied fruit into the dough, I sprinkled some on top and rolled it up. The next morning the rolls sat on the counter for half an hour before being baked. I stirred together a little milk and confectioner’s sugar for the cross markings. They tasted very good to us, probably because we haven’t had any in four years.
When our children were little, I baked hot cross buns to share with the neighbors. We went to four houses, singing the traditional song as we delivered them. I looked for the music and evidently threw away the book. Internet to the rescue!
The words are:
Hot cross buns! Hot cross buns!
One a penny, two a penny,
Hot cross buns!
If you have no daughters, give them to your sons.
One a penny, two a penny,
Hot cross buns!
Mehrling Muse 