This Midwestern Life Eats a Hot Cross Bun

The hot cross bun (HCB) is another bread, like fruitcake, that I had heard of but never actually

Hot Cross Buns! Hot Cross Buns!

encountered. The HCB is also a seasonal Lenten food that can be found when the pączki
are out clogging the bakery aisle.

When I saw the HCB advertised in our local grocery ad I felt the same way I did when I stepped into a snow drift for the first time: "Oh, so that's what that is!"

I pointed to the picture and asked David if he knew the HCB nursery rhyme. He chanted "Hot Cross Buns" twice and then trailed off humming what sounded suspiciously like La Cucaracha. 


Normally, I would mercilessly tease David for his ignorance but I once sang: "Jesus loves me! This I know, Jesus loves me fo' sho!" to a toddler I was babysitting who demanded the song before bedtime. I forgot the real lyrics and as the toddler narrowed his eyes, turned away from me in disgust, and all but howled: "You're not my mommy! I want Mommy!" my only solace was that the child would be too young to remember this off key, well-meaning heathen his parents had entrusted his care to that evening.

Now back to the regularly scheduled HCB. The Wikipedia article said the HCB has currants or raisins. I hate raisins.

When I would eat capirotada, a traditional Mexican Easter bread pudding, I would pull out the raisins. The raisins in that dish represent the nails used to place Jesus on the cross.  I just finished telling you I once mangled an innocent Sunday school hymn so obviously I have no problem not eating something that bears important religious symbolism.  I wondered if the raisins in an HCB were also there to represent nails.

When I brought the buns home and took a good look at them I saw colorful bits mixed in. I couldn't figure out what these red & green chunks were. Perhaps they were dyed orange peel? That was the only tangible ingredient listed that I couldn't identify in the bread.  However, my main quarrel was still with the raisins. 

Extreme Close-Up!

For the sake of "journalistic" integrity I decided to eat the raisins. I wanted to know how many raisins I was committing to so I cut the bun in half.  I cringed when I saw raisins deep in the bread. I soldiered on for you dear reader and consumed one whole bun.

Ewwww! Raisins.

The white cross of frosting tastes like the frosting on a cinnamon bun. It's obviously there to help mask some of the flavors you are about to encounter: nutty with the spicy orange peel aftertaste. I felt like I was eating potpourri wrapped in bread.

I didn't mind the chewy consistency but that may have had more to do with the fact that I was chewing with my mouth open moving the bread around trying not to get any taste. That was the second time. The first time I chewed like a proper lady. I did not heat the buns up either time so they were technically cold cross buns.

I think if I have a third bun I will lick the frosting off the top and shove the bun back into the container.