Bake soft, spiced Hot Cross Buns with a sweet glaze using this easy recipe. Perfect for Easter or any occasion. Step-by-step instructions for bakery-quality results!
Easter aren't just about chocolate eggs,
When the Kitchen Smelled Like Easter
The first time I understood Easter wasn’t just about chocolate eggs, I was six, perched on a rickety stool in my grandmother’s kitchen. The walls were sunflower yellow, the tiles cracked like a mosaic, and the air buzzed with cinnamon, nutmeg, and the tang of orange zest.

“Sunshine buns,” named for the golden crosses that glowed like the first light of morning.
Grandma, her silver hair pinned up with a pencil, rolled dough into plump little spheres while humming one of her favorite hyms. To me, they were “sunshine buns,” named for the golden crosses that glowed like the first light of morning.

Fast-forward 20 years. There I was, flour in my hair and a toddler “decorating” the floor with raisins, burning my third batch of buns because I’d forgotten the glaze. Again.

But here’s the thing: Hot cross buns aren’t just Easter treats.
But here’s the thing: Hot cross buns aren’t just Easter treats. They’re edible time machines. Every sticky, spiced bite carries the scent of Grandma's kitchen, the clatter of her copper pots, and the way she’d wink as she snuck cardamom into the dough. Today, I’m sharing her recipe—with a few messy, modern tweaks from my own kitchen fails.
Prep Time: 20 minutes (plus 1-2 hours for rising)
Cook Time: 25 minutes
Servings Yield: 12 buns

Ingredients needed
Ingredients: The Alchemy of Memory and Dough
You’ll need:
- For the dough:
- 4 cups (500g) bread flour (all-purpose works, but bread flour gives that chewy hug)
- 1 teaspoon salt (GRandma used sea salt, coarse and unapologetic)
- ¼ cup (50g) brown sugar (she’d call this “the good sugar”)
- 2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1 teaspoon allspice
- Grandma's secret: A fat pinch of cardamom
- 7g instant yeast (or 21g fresh—she’d scoff at packets and crumble a yeast cake like a pro)
- 1 cup (240ml) warm milk (test it on your wrist, like a baby’s bottle)
- 1 egg, beaten (farm-fresh, always)
- ½ stick (60g) softened butter (salted, because life’s too short for unsalted)
- ⅔ cup (100g) mixed dried fruit (raisins, currants, or candied orange peel—the latter stolen from her neighbor’s tree)
- For the cross:
- ½ cup (60g) flour
- 5 tablespoon water
- A squeeze of honey (Grandma said this kept the crosses from tasting “like chalk”)
- For the glaze:
- 3 tablespoon apricot jam + 1 tablespoon orange zest (or marmalade if you’re feeling fancy)
Kitchen hack: Bake these in a Lodge cast iron skillet—the same kind Grandma used to sear churros. It’ll give the buns a caramelized crust that crackles like autumn leaves.

Step-by-Step Instructions
Step-by-Step Instructions: Messy Hands, Happy Heart
1. The Dough’s First Dance
In a big, battered bowl (mine’s chipped from a Great Cookie Disaster of 2018), whisk flour, salt, sugar, and spices. Make a well in the center, like a flour volcano. Pour in the milk, egg, and yeast. Stir until it looks like a stormy sea—shaggy and wild. Now, knead in the butter. This part’s primal. You’ll think it’ll never come together, but suddenly, it does—soft as a puppy’s ear and just as warm.
2. The Fruit Rebellion
Fold in the dried fruit. I use currants and candied orange peel, but once, in a sleep-deprived haze, I tossed in chocolate chips. The kids cheered; Grandma's ghost side-eyed me. Cover the dough with a tea towel (the one with daisies, obviously) and let it rise somewhere cozy. Top of the fridge works. Wait 1–2 hours. It’ll puff up, smug and jiggly, like it knows it’s the star of the show.
3. Shaping Time (Toddlers Optional)
Punch the dough. Hard. It’s therapy. Divide into 12 balls—mine are never even, and that’s okay. Arrange them in a buttered skillet, snug as puppies in a basket. Let them rise again. They’ll press into each other, soft and trusting.
4. Cross My Heart
Mix flour, water, and honey into a paste. Pipe crosses using a Ziploc bag with the corner snipped. Pro tip: Don’t let your 4-year-old “help” here. We once ended up with buns labeled “XXX” instead of crosses. Blame it on modern art.
5. Bake Until Golden (Pray to the Oven Gods)
Pop into a 375°F (190°C) oven. Bake 20–25 minutes. They’ll rise like little bread mountains, the crosses turning golden-brown, the scent so thick you could slice it.
6. Glaze Like You Mean It
Warm the jam and zest until it’s syrupy. Brush it over the buns while they’re still warm. The glaze seeps into the cracks, making them shine like Grandma's favorite amber necklace.
Variations: Because Rules Were Made to Be Broken
- Citrus Bomb: Swap raisins for candied grapefruit peel and a dash of lime zest.
- Gluten-Free Guerrilla: Use Cup4Cup flour + 1 teaspoon xanthan gum. Texture’s denser, but still delish.
- Savory Spy: Skip the sugar, add cheddar and thyme. Serve with soup. (My husband still jokes about the “cheesy bun rebellion” of 2020.)
Serving Suggestions: Brunch with Attitude
Tear them apart while warm. Slather with salted butter (Kerrygold or GTFO) and pretend you’re in a cozy London bakery. Pair with a lavender latte (my hipster phase) or a mimosa with extra OJ. For drama, stack them on a wooden board with berries and clotted cream—the kind that makes your cardiologist frown.
FAQs: Real Talk from My Kitchen to Yours
- Q: My dough’s as flat as my humor. Help!
A: Yeast is a diva. If your milk’s too hot, it’ll quit. Too cold, it’ll snooze. Aim for “warm bath” vibes. And check the expiry date—yeast dies of boredom in the pantry. - Q: Can I freeze these?
A: Yes! Freeze after baking. Reheat in the oven, NOT the microwave (unless you want buns that weep). - Q: No apricot jam?
A: Use orange marmalade, honey, or even maple syrup. Grandma once used guava paste in a pinch. No regrets.
Conclusion: Bake Them, Share Them, Burn a Few
Hot cross buns aren’t about perfection. They’re about flour fingerprints on your phone, the way your kitchen smells for hours, and the joy of handing a still-warm bun to someone you love. This Easter (or next Tuesday—no one’s judging), bake a batch. Burn a few. Laugh.

Other Desserts you might like
Vanilla Sheet Cake. > There’s something magical about a vanilla sheet cake. It’s not just a dessert
Pear and Blackberry Cobbler! > Sweet, tangy, and ready in under an hour.
Almond Cake > Deliciously Moist Gluten-Free

Hot Cross Buns Like You’ve Never Tasted Before
- Total Time: 45 minutes
- Yield: 12 servings 1x
Ingredients
Ingredients: The Alchemy of Memory and Dough
You’ll need:
-
- For the dough:
-
- 4 cups (500g) bread flour (all-purpose works, but bread flour gives that chewy hug)
-
- 1 tsp salt (Grandma used sea salt, coarse and unapologetic)
-
- ¼ cup (50g) brown sugar (she’d call this “the good sugar”)
-
- 2 tsp ground cinnamon
-
- 1 tsp allspice
-
- Grandma's secret: A fat pinch of cardamom (she bartered for it at the mercado, swapping empanadas for spice)
-
- 7g instant yeast (or 21g fresh—she’d scoff at packets and crumble a yeast cake like a pro)
-
- 1 cup (240ml) warm milk (test it on your wrist, like a baby’s bottle)
-
- 1 egg, beaten (farm-fresh, always)
-
- ½ stick (60g) softened butter (salted, because life’s too short for unsalted)
-
- ⅔ cup (100g) mixed dried fruit (raisins, currants, or candied orange peel—the latter stolen from her neighbor’s tree)
-
- For the dough:
-
- For the cross:
-
- ½ cup (60g) flour
-
- 5 tbsp water
-
- A squeeze of honey (Grandma said this kept the crosses from tasting “like chalk”)
-
- For the cross:
-
- For the glaze:
-
- 3 tbsp apricot jam + 1 tablespoon orange zest (or marmalade if you’re feeling fancy)
-
- For the glaze:
Kitchen hack: Bake these in a Lodge cast iron skillet—the same kind Grandma used to sear churros. It’ll give the buns a character
Instructions
Step-by-Step Instructions: Messy Hands, Happy Heart
1. The Dough’s First Dance
In a big, battered bowl (mine’s chipped from a Great Cookie Disaster of 2018), whisk flour, salt, sugar, and spices. Make a well in the center, like a flour volcano. Pour in the milk, egg, and yeast. Stir until it looks like a stormy sea—shaggy and wild. Now, knead in the butter. This part’s primal. You’ll think it’ll never come together, but suddenly, it does—soft as a puppy’s ear and just as warm.
2. The Fruit Rebellion
Fold in the dried fruit. I use currants and candied orange peel, but once, in a sleep-deprived haze, I tossed in chocolate chips. The kids cheered; Grandma ghost side-eyed me. Cover the dough with a tea towel (the one with daisies, obviously) and let it rise somewhere cozy. Top of the fridge works. Wait 1–2 hours. It’ll puff up, smug and jiggly, like it knows it’s the star of the show.
3. Shaping Time (Toddlers Optional)
Punch the dough. Hard. It’s therapy. Divide into 12 balls—mine are never even, and that’s okay. Arrange them in a buttered skillet, snug as puppies in a basket. Let them rise again. They’ll press into each other, soft and trusting.
4. Cross My Heart
Mix flour, water, and honey into a paste. Pipe crosses using a Ziploc bag with the corner snipped. Pro tip: Don’t let your 4-year-old “help” here. We once ended up with buns labeled “XXX” instead of crosses. Blame it on modern art.
5. Bake Until Golden (Pray to the Oven Gods)
Pop into a 375°F (190°C) oven. Bake 20–25 minutes. They’ll rise like little bread mountains, the crosses turning golden-brown, the scent so thick you could slice it.
6. Glaze Like You Mean It
Warm the jam and zest until it’s syrupy. Brush it over the buns while they’re still warm. The glaze seeps into the cracks, making them shine like GRandma's favorite amber necklace.
Variations: Because Rules Were Made to Be Broken
-
- Citrus Bomb: Swap raisins for candied grapefruit peel and a dash of lime zest.
-
- Gluten-Free Guerrilla: Use Cup4Cup flour + 1 teaspoon xanthan gum. Texture’s denser, but still delish.
-
- Savory Spy: Skip the sugar, add cheddar and thyme. Serve with soup. (My husband still jokes about the “cheesy bun rebellion” of 2020.)
- Prep Time: 20 minutes (plus 1-2 hours for rising)
- Cook Time: 25 minutes
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