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!
I now have that tune going round my head, played in a squeaky tone on a brown plastic recorder. With only 3 notes, it was the first tune I learnt to play in primary school, a rather long time ago. (I wonder, do kids still learn recorder in school?)
There are many legends around their origins, going back as far as the ancient Greeks, but I’m choosing to go for the one that claims a monk first made them in the 14th century, adding the cross to mark the death of Jesus Christ on the crucifix.
If, like me, you are horrified by hot cross buns going on sale as soon as the Christmas decorations come down, you’ll be pleased to know that Queen Elizabeth I supposedly banned them from being sold on any day but Good Friday, Christmas and for funerals. If a baker was caught selling them they had to donate them to the poor. Mind you, I have been known to sneak in a few in the weeks leading up to Easter – they are just too tasty!
In my family, Good Friday is marked by the descending of the multitudes upon my parents house to feast on hot cross buns. My dad spends half the day baking up a storm – 9 and a half dozen last year!
I think this egg, painted in 2011, was inspired by finding a particularly speckled egg, shortly after stuffing myself with hot cross buns.
Given how many years my dad has been making them, it’s about time he got some receggnition!
Preparations have already begun for this year’s bun eggstravaganza!
I’m so eggcited!