Spotlight: Easter

 The most important culinary traditions associated with Easter; ignore them at your peril...

For his next escapade, the Spy returns to his native routes in order to celebrate the joys of Easter. He has always been a fan of this particular occasion, for just as his aforementioned Catholic heritage demands that he worships at least ten different patron saints daily (everything from St Anthony for help finding his lost socks to St Agatha when he fancies a spot of bell-ringing), it also approves of a festival (possibly) associated with Eostre, who was (possibly) an ancient European goddess of the dawn. The Easter Vigil mass was always a highlight of Easter week for the youthful Spy, during which the priest would take all the altar servers out into the graveyard, light an enormous incense-scented bonfire and stick nails into towering painted candles. The meaning was never entirely clear, but the Spy always lived in hope that the priest would branch out into a spot of chicken sacrificing, as the occasion did have a tint of black magic and paganism about it, but alas, this happy event never transpired,  much to the Spy's chagrin.

Spring flowers down on the Backs

This is a time of year to celebrate, for just as Christmas is a way of brightening the dark foggy days of midwinter, so Easter (usually) coincides with the time when all the tree blossom, tulips and daffodils start to Sit Up And Make An Effort, colouring the drabness of the winter with a veritable painter's palette of colours. There are so many lovely recipes associated with Easter, from spring lamb to a host of cinnamon-based cakes and buns. The Spy could write an essay on the subject, but in order to preserve some modicum of sanity amongst his readership, he is going to stick to the two classics he made this week, Simnel Cake and Hot Cross Buns. The Spy is not a superstitious creature, but he suspects that if these two products remained un-baked at Easter, the fabric of society would instantly crumble and the world as we know it would cease to exist.

 Glossy buns cooling on the wire rack

 

In Britain at least, the first Hot Cross Buns have to be shared to bring good luck for the rest of the year. The cross on the top makes the division more egalitarian if you're dealing with an even number of luck-seeking bun-guzzlers, but it was something of a sore point in the Spy's childhood home, where there were five little 'peccadillos' all clamouring for a bite of the action, so to speak. There are a thousand and one theories surrounding the origins of hot cross buns,  recently discussed in neat little article on the BBC website. In any case, these spicy little fellows are delicious, whether snaffled when still warm from the oven, or split, toasted and buttered later on. Use whatever fruit you like; sultanas and raisins and candied peel are standard, but if Waitrose can peddle a Cranberry and Date variety of hot cross bun, you could always vary the fruit to suit your tastes.

A most cunning step-by-step photographic guide to hot cross bun action: dry ingredients, add fruit, knead, allow to rise, piping on the crosses and a bun or two in the oven...

Hot Cross Bun Recipe:

450g / 1lb strong plain flour plus extra for kneading and crosses (you can replace some strong plain flour with strong wholemeal flour too)

1/2 tsp salt

50g / 2oz caster sugar
zest of 1/2 orange

2tsp ground cinnamon

2 tsps mixed spice

1/2 tsp grated nutmeg

50g / 2oz butter, cubed

7g sachet easy-blend yeast

115g / 4oz currants or sultanas
50g/2oz chopped mixed peel

1 egg
150ml / 1/4pt tepid milk

Topping:
50g/2oz caster sugar
2 tablespoons water
(you could also sprinkle with cinnamon sugar before baking)

Mix flour, salt, yeast and spices in a large bowl. Rub in the butter with fingertips. Add sugar, fruit, peel and zest and stir together
Beat egg into tepid milk. Make a well in the dry mixture and pour on the milk and egg mixture, stirring to make soft dough

Turn dough onto lightly floured surface and knead for 5 mins until smooth and no longer sticky (dont add more flour unless absolutely necessary, it makes them hard)
Leave in bowl with damp teatowel or oiled clingfilm and allow to rise for 1 hr
Tip onto floured surface and knead again for a minute or two until smooth

Divide into 20 balls, shape each. Set in rows, a little apart, on a lightly buttered baking sheet. Cover with oiled clingfilm again and leave to rise for 1 hr until doubled

Pre-heat oven to 220 C/425 F/Gas 7
Make the topping by blending 3 tablespoons of flour with 2 tablespoons cold water to make a paste. Spoon into a small food bag and snip off the corner. Pipe a cross onto each bun and place in oven, baking for 15-20 mins
While they are baking, make a glaze by disolving the sugar in the water and allowing to boil for 1 min. When the buns are taken from the oven, brush immediately with the glaze and cool on a wire rack.

Simnel cakes are a lighter, more spiced version of the fruit cake eaten in the UK at Christmas, with the addition of a layer of marzipan sandwiched in the middle and eleven little marzipan balls perched on top to symbolise the eleven apostles. The twelfth apostle, Judas, gets left out of the party for bad behaviour, but a certain marzipan-fixated member of the Spy's immediate family always insisted on fashioning an extra large Judas ball and then devouring him mercilessly before he reached the cake (as if burning in the pits of hell wasn't punishment enough...).

 Simnel cake cooling in the tin

As with most of these traditions, the recipe varies around the country, and this is a rather unorthodox version from the Waitrose Food Magazine, which replaces the dried fruit (raisins and sultanas) with grated apple and ginger. This is a way of combating an unfortunate misjudgement made by the Spy's mother due to the gooey marzipan layer in the middle of the cake, which causes the skewer not to come out clean, which is the usual test to check that a cake is done. Upon seeing this sinful goo upon her skewer, the Spy's mother continued to bake the cake believing it not to be done, until a horrible smell of burning filled the kitchen... Regretfully she does not seem to have learnt from her mistakes, for The Burning of the Simnel Cake has since become an Easter tradition as precious as the Politically Incorrect Morris Dancing with a Coconut of Bacup, Lancashire, or The Great Hare Pie Battle of Hallaton, Leicestershire. It's these little traditions that makes one so proud to be a member of a potty little island somewhere off the coast of France.

Step-by-step simnel cake making: melting the butter and sugar, making the marzipan topping, glazing the apostles and grilling...

Simnel Cake recipe with Apple and Ginger:

Serves 11

200g butter

300g light brown muscavado sugar

3 large eggs, 1 beaten

25g fresh root ginger, grated

2 medium cooking apples, peeled cored and grated

200g self-raising flour

200g crystallised stem ginger, cut into little chunks

250g marzipan

Preheat oven 170 C / gas 3

Line a 20cm round, loose-bottomed cake tin with baking parchment

Melt the butter in a large pan and stir in the sugar

Cool slightly then beat in 2 eggs and root ginger

Stir in flour, apple and crystallised ginger

Pour mixture into the tin, put it on a baking sheet and bake in the oven for 1hr to 1 hr 15mins (cover with baking parchment if it browns too quickly)

When cooked, a skewer will come out with a few crumbs

Heat the grill. Roll out 200g marzipan and make a circle the same size as the cake tin

Roll the rest into 11 marble-sized balls for the apostles

Lay the marzipan circle onto the cake, brush with beaten egg and arrange the balls around the edge, brushing with more egg

Grill carefully, as it burns easily

Leave to cool in the tin

(p.s. for a good standard simnel cake recipe see here)

 With any leftover ginger, peel and place in a teapot with some boiling water. Enjoy a calming cup of ginger tea as a reward for all your labours (perhaps with a slice of cake to keep the tea company...)