The Cook Book by “Oscar” of the Waldorf

Three thousand recipes from the maitre d'hotel of the Waldorf — the hotel kitchen that taught Gilded Age America how to dine, from beef tea to watermelon with champagne.

HomeThe Waldorf Kitchen › Hot Cross Buns

Hot Cross Buns

Add to a quart of warmed new milk half a pound of flour, a couple of eggs, and dissolve in it two ounces of German yeast. Stir this mixture well together, cover over the pan and set it in a warm place to rise. After it has risen and again fallen mix with it four pounds of flour previously rubbed with a pound of butter, a half pound more of the sugar and half an ounce of mixed spice, using enough flour to make a stiff dough; then set it once again in a warm place to rise, having it well covered with a cloth. When it has risen to nearly double its original proportions shape with the hands into balls and place them on a buttered baking-tin, leaving space enough between them to prevent their becoming joined. Set them one side for a few minutes and then cut across on the tops in the shape of a cross, brush over with a little milk and again set to one side. After the lapse of a few minutes more place in a hot oven and bake. When they are done brush the tops with milk, and serve.

For the Modern Kitchen

A full bakery-scale sponge dough: roughly four and a half pounds of flour and a quart of milk. Halve or quarter it unless you want three dozen buns.

A Little History

Hot cross buns belong to Good Friday in the English baking calendar, and the spiced yeast bun marked with a cross is generally traced to that observance rather than to any single baker. A London ordinance of 1592 restricting the sale of spice bread to burials, Christmas and Good Friday is often cited as the reason the buns became a once-a-year item; the street cry itself is documented by the eighteenth century, in the "one a penny, two a penny" rhyme printed in Poor Robin's Almanack. Oscar Tschirky was maître d'hôtel at the Waldorf, not its chef, and his 1896 book gathers the working formulas of the hotel's departments — which is why this one is written at bakery scale, in the shorthand of a man who assumed a professional bread oven and a bench big enough for four pounds of flour. The absence of currants marks it as a plain spiced bun of the older sort, the fruit being a later expectation.

← BunsLight Tea Buns →