The hot cross bun challenge 2025
I’m not really sure how it happened – but I’ve become the hot-cross-bun-hun. Three years ago, I decided to get serious about them, looking for London’s finest rendition of this seasonal springtime treat. I asked people on Instagram about their favourites and started reviewing them. It spiralled from there, really: the algorithm flooded my feed with HXB content. My friends got involved. People I don’t really know started quizzing me. Accounts dedicated to baked goods slid into my DMs. I cycled a lot of miles and spent a small fortune on buns in the short few weeks that they hit the shelves.
The history of the hot cross bun
You don’t really need to hear this from me, but it’s good to cover the origin story.
“Hot-cross buns! Hot-cross buns! One a penny, two a penny, hot-cross buns!” goes the classic nursery rhyme. That was first published in the 18th century, but the buns themselves are thought to date back to the 16th century, traditionally sold on Good Friday, the cross a nod to Jesus’s crucifixion.
Under Queen Elizabeth, spiced buns (technically all spiced cakes, buns, biscuits or other spiced bread) were only allowed to be sold on burial days, Christmas or the Friday before Easter – re-enforcing their association with the day.
Traditionally flavoured with allspice, the buns were at first scored with a cross, but that evolved into a shortcrust pastry cross, before the flour paste you’ll see today.
Seeking hot cross bun perfection
My hunt is for the ultimate hot cross bun. For me (and it is, of course, all subjective), that means a bun full of spice, laden with juicy fruit and candied peel. The enriched dough should be soft and fluffy, ideally being delicious on its own, but elevated by a slathering of butter. Structurally, it needs to hold up to being toasted too – an essential for the best buns. The cross should be decorative but not obstructive, the flavour not too sweet, too spiced or too bland. It’s a fine art.
The method: the taste-test protocol
I’ve got a strict methodology to ensure that all elements of a bun are fairly tested. Buns are tasted “raw” (ie un-toasted) and toasted, both with and without butter (essentially four different serves). Ratings relate to texture, spice and fruiting levels, toastability and general sexiness (aesthetics really do matter). Size, price, value, availability and service/queuing time are all considered.
The ranking for 2025: London’s best hot cross buns*
This year, I sampled 22 buns in total – spending a slightly mortifying £70, not including additional pastries that were purchased once I’d made it all the way to fairly distant bakeries. Here’s how the buns ranked:
Jolene: £4.20. Plump and pretty, it is undoubtedly a very expensive bun. But also a chunky boi. The cross is rustic, the glaze subtle but appeals to an eager toaster like myself. And the smell, oh my. Get me a candle of this essence. On cutting in, there is plentiful fruit. Lovely little addition here of finely chopped cherries by the looks of things. It’s so hedonistically fluffy, with gentle spice and beautifully judged fruit, it doesn’t need the addition of butter. And I could devour a baker’s dozen. (Interestingly, two years ago they had an icing cross and sugar glaze, with toastabiilty issues: it seems they’ve upped their game.) This year’s bun held up beautifully. Now, as with raw, the butter just isn’t needed, but – especially toasted – the additional salty tang was glorious. And it really held its structure. Bravo. Now, I realise the price is a lot (is it the Harry Styles premium?), but my God I’d go again in a heartbeat. Almost perfection in bun form. Jolene, I love you. One thing: I do hate that they make you self-serve (at least at Redchurch St, which is my regular). For £4.20, the least you can do is put it in a bag/box for me. 9.5/10
Wooster’s: £1.60. Now, this is a rare guest entry from my good friend Nat Earl, unusual but deemed worthy due to the being “almost a life-changing bun” for Earl. Extensive review of this Bury St Edmunds edition is available, but there is unbeatable QPR (oh, the countryside). More spice and peel would have elevated to a perfect score, but sits strong at 9/10. This is an unofficial entry, as I can’t confirm the rating having not tasted the bun myself, but she is a trusted taster.
Eric’s: £3.50. I do have beef with the queues here and the fact that they’re only open three days, but the HXB was a previous top-scorer, so I set my views to one side. Fairly standard pricing here and, I have to say, it’s a beauty. The smell of the spices wafted from the bakery as I queued and it was intoxicating. The cross is dainty and cute, with that glorious burnished top and whisper of blistering. Plus, this baby has got GIRTH. Pillowy soft texture, with an even distribution of fairly gentle fruiting. Possibly a bit too gentle. But it’s a flavour bomb. The spice mix here is nuts: I couldn’t figure it out a couple of years ago, because there’s something almost curried – in a good way. Turns out, it’s CUMIN. Sensational addition, although potentially not for the faint of heart. Butter only elevates it untoasted. Toasted, the spice is amped up and a lot – butter really is needed to balance it. Even then, there’s a real intensity that may not be for everyone – but is also immensely addictive. In the toaster, it holds up reasonably well structurally and the glaze doesn’t char too much. All in all, this is very, very good, if potentially divisive. Could have more fruit in an ideal world, but I love that savoury edge. 8.5/10
Lannan: £4.20. A friend brought a bun all the way back from Edinburgh’s cult bakery, Lannan. NB This wasn’t consumed on the day of purchase due to its travels (it was lovingly cling-wrapped for preservation). Premium pricing, of course. Satisfyingly square. Still smelt fantastic, even two days after purchase – the spice immediately emerging as it was unwrapped. The spice here is beautifully judged. Texturally, this is soft, steady and deeply reassuring. It tastes of lost childhood. There’s plenty of plump fruit and peel, all deliciously juicy. Despite being two days old, it’s very moist – slightly doughy, but in a pleasing way. The smell as this was toasting was killer. I nearly tore it out and nashed away before it had developed sufficient colour. Showing remarkable restraint, however, I held out. The bun stayed composed in the toaster, but buttering broke it apart – disintegrating under minimal pressure, perhaps due to the moisture level? Despite that questionable structure, it tasted fantastic: the spice a beautiful backbone, with bursts of fruit and with butter – the tang of salt was divine. A very good bun. 8.5/10
August: £2.50. Noted that when I bought my bun, they’d switched to conventional crosses after the early trademark “A” they had been marking their buns with (a good move, IMHO). Very reasonably priced at £2.50, and slightly surprising given the viennoiserie is all £4.50+, but no complaints from me. This is a big ‘un. Beefy in size. Feels quite solid (although not weapons-grade). Tight crumb. Very promising fruit distribution. The golden shade is lovely – a touch of saffron in there perhaps? It is a denser bun, but somehow reassuring with it. The spicing is gorgeous and there’s a thread of ginger that runs through the bun – with stem ginger chopped up and blended with the fruit, and a gingery syrup glaze that is fiery and fun. A little of the X factor. At first I wasn’t convinced by this raw, but it benefits from butter, and the top has this surprisingly fine crackly crust – reminiscent of that found on a big boule of brioche. Downside of that ginger glaze: it catches in the toaster. Nevertheless, the structure here is good and it works well under the grill, the fruit almost melting alongside the hit of ginger and gentle baking spice. In hindsight, best to have the top raw and get the bottom in the toaster. You’d have the best of all worlds. A serious contender (a relief, as there was a lot of hype for this one). Price and size are in its favour, and I like the ever so slightly maverick touch here, but I would like a slightly looser, lighter crumb. Strong at 8/10. An unofficial entry given travels, and being a regional bun.
Aries Bakehouse: £3. Not wanting to judge a book but its cover, but I was a little worried about these buns’ stature. But I also remember how good they’ve been in the past: and I shouldn’t have feared the flatness. Generously sized in diameter, if not height. Skinny cross design, satisfyingly deep colour and a more matt finish to the glaze (an excellent signal to the eager toaster). After a 10-day hiatus, having gone cold turkey in Bordeaux, the crumb here was a sight for sore eyes. Fluffy heaven. Perhaps a lower percentage of wholemeal than I remember, but certainly not the worse for it. Pillowy with gorgeous lightly judged spice – a cardamom-leaning (?) blend. Despite a cute little cherry winking out the edge, the fruit level is not where I’d hoped it would be. The giant raisins and candied peel are plump and flavourful, if a little sparse. Butter on the raw bun really took it to the next level, and there’s something nostalgic about the texture here (or is it just that post-hiatus lust?). Impeccable toastability: it holds its structure and remains bouncy under-tooth. A very good bun that offers very good value too. There’s something gloriously pure about its offering, innocent, unadorned. 8/10, knocked down for its fruit level – but still worthy of a detour.
Toad: £3.20. A previous top-contender. It’s still a beauty. Toad gets the allure of a good glaze and I’m extremely pro the rusticity of their crosses. Chunky and hunky. Solid fruit level here, if not flawless in its distribution. But the dough is a little drier than I recall. Recipe has definitely changed. Some tasty wholemeal but definitely needs butter and/or toasting (interestingly, in 2023 it thrived untoasted and couldn’t take the heat). Toasted it really is a failsafe classic, but for that level of pricing I was expecting more. Spice level could be higher. I like the salty edge though. 7.5/10. NB this score has been adjusted with a view of the full field, initial judgement was downgraded for price, which is – I now know – foolish, this is a relative steal.
E5 Bakehouse: £3.50. A little anaemic looking and that cross is just a little pale, but it is deeply spiced, the scent filling the air. Lovely. Soft, supple, pliable in texture. Soothing. It’s a bit heavy on the cinnamon, but there’s no mistaking that it’s a premo bun. There’s a satisfactory amount of fruit, but more would take this to the next level. Fantastic with butter. Toasts with ease, but disintegrates a little under the knife. Can’t take the pressure. The spice follows through and while it’s good unadulterated, butter really does complete this. A very solid performance here, although a touch less cinnamon and a touch more fruit would make a top-scorer. But 100% would go again. 7/10
Tarn: £3.70. After an initial pre-ordering issue, they ended up putting two on one side for me. The bun is pretty fit. Another darker bun, here, brooding – and there are some promising raisins in view. Fruit distribution could be better here. The dough however is gorgeous. The spicing is savoury, with just a touch of sweetness that makes this a bun of depth and richness. This is a top-tier toaster. Gorgeous. Butter really completes this in a lovely way – elevating it further. But I am still disappointed by the fruit level, just a bit more would really take this up a notch. 7/10
Pophams: £3.90. A bun I said I wouldn’t retest, but, weakling that I am and desperate for buns, I did. It’s always been a beaut, but for me it has previously delivered style over substance. Obviously premium at £3.90. I also find their ordering method stressful. You’ve got a list on the side with pricing, a separate place to look at the goods, and then you have to wait for them to be passed out to you like a drink at Starbucks. Doesn’t lend to the premium feel. That croissant dough cross is sexy, though, I know, with a nice dark and even colour. But is it more than a pretty face? Lovely soft cut-through with a very pleasing, even crumb. Fine peel flecked through the dough, and not that much fruit visible. It’s heavily spiced, but just within the realm of what works. Soft and chewy raw, in a pleasing way. Butter lifts but isn’t required. Now toasting here is strange. The moistness of the dough means it needs a serious amount of time in there, and event hen it warms rather than toasts, coming rather limp. It feels soggy, especially with butter, but the flavour is largely good, if rather fatty. Somehow really doesn’t work toasted. I stand by the fact that this doesn’t deliver on its looks – a moderate 6.5/10.
Quince: £3.50. Lovely cut-through. even, open crumb. It’s flatter in style versus others, but that’s very toaster-friendly (provided not too dense – looking at you, Honey & Co). There’s a savouriness here and a very intense spice backbone, with a citrus-led profile. Nice distribution of sexy, plump sultanas. Butter was a good thing here. Texturally a squidgier, comforting bun – quite old-school-feeling versus more modish brioche-style. The spice is so intense though that it almost catches at the back of your throat – maybe a bit heavy on the clove? Excellent toastability, as expected, but the spice was accentuated and became overwhelming. It’s a solid performance, but that spice is a lot – verging on unpleasant, even though I do greatly enjoy the texture here. Pulls it back to a moderate 6.5/10. Being generous, maybe someone’s hand slipped on the spice jar.
Toklas: £3.85. At the premium end but to be expected from this classy joint, to be fair. Another top contender in previous years. Nice dark colour. Lovely sheen. Enjoy the embedded, piped cross. And plump fruit peeking out the side: YES, please. That’s what we’re talking about, guys. It also smelt unbelievably good. Intoxicating. Almost didn’t get it home without tearing in. Nice depth too. Even open crumb that is sexy and soft. They use a spiced tea here, and while that has infused the dough, it feels like it needs a touch more sweetness to lift that spice up. It’s sophisticated, to be sure, but almost on the bitter side. There’s a fine line with a hot cross bun and anything sickly-sweet an abomination – but a touch more sugar needed here to round it out. The way that cross fell into the dough and cracked up under pressure was a little disappointing. Felt spindly on the palate. I feared for it in the toaster but it fared ok. I hoped it might help lift the spice, but still a touch on the bitter side for me here, even with those gorgeous raisins and top notch peel. Butter helped but didn’t make up for it. I don’t think it deserves a top spot this year, although I do appreciate its attitude. It’s a bun that says, “I read Nietzsche.” But I’m not here for earnest, I’m here for flavour. 6/10 with a bit of extra credit for the effort.
Ayres: £1.65. An old-school local bakery. No insta, no hype (I don’t even think a website?): the real deal. The sort of place you’d have got an iced bun after school. Price of course matches up to that. No one is charging £4 for a bun here – and they do look cute. Blistering, gleaming, neat piping of that cross: with temptingly fluffy white dough peeping out beneath. Cor, look at that. Beckons like a pillow. No fancy wholegrain here. Now, i think it was an unfortunate cut-through, but it is low on fruit. We’re talking currants here, no candied peel (far too fancy). Surpisingly, intensely clove-laden, and also really very sweet in flavour. Butter helps offset the potential sickliness. This caught quickly in the toaster – needed only very gentle toasting to get a good colour. High risk. As you might expect, this is typically pappy white bread, and is comforting in the way that only this sort of bread can be, disappearing to nothing under the pressure of butter-spreading. Now, it was a very good price and I had hopes for a gloriously basic, old-school bun. But that sweetness and the heavy clove, with the low level of fruit and, goddamit I want my peel. That said, that pillowy dough is fluffy and lush. 6/10
Fink’s: £4. There was a crossing mishap on the day I purchased my bun, so it was a Hot Un-crossed Bun, and I applaud their embracing the error (didn’t try to fob me off as Bread Ahead did with a half cross), as well as having buns still available at a later hour. Lovely deep and consistent shade of the crust, glistening with promise. No scoring can be given to absent cross, of course. Very good looking cut-through. Soft yet sturdy enough, more in the bread than brioche style. Lovely spring to it. Just enough subtle spice. It’s flecked with fruit and peel – almost like they’ve been chopped through the dough. They’re so fine you don’t get the juicy burst of a berry to complement the bun, meaning overall impact is slightly dry. Butter helps the situation. Integrity under toasting: superb. That warmth brings out the spice more, and lushing of butter make up for the flecky-fine-fruit, but all in all this doesn’t hit the heights. Without those flavour bombs, this is – alas – a little bland. £4 isn’t cheap and – although the guys here are great and much as I admire the un-crossed accident – it’s not a top scorer. Stop shredding that fruit. 6/10
Irene: £3. A little anaemic looking (inconsistent bake here) and on the small side. Particularly sticky glaze. But looks extremely good on the fruit front. Promise fulfilled on cut-through. Also intriguing inclusion of cranberries. Rather tight crumb. It tastes a little doughy, even a little underbaked, alas. The spice level is good, but it’s a very sweet dough – meaning butter is an essential here to bring balance. The fruit is lovely and those cranberries add a great tang to the mix, helping offset the sweetness. Toasts well, even if it’s rather small so gets a bit lost in the bottom of the toaster. It’s comforting and nice enough, but the underbaking and overly sweet style just don’t earn a place at the top. 6/10. Totally fine.
Little Bread Pedlar: £2.80. One of the cheaper numbers this year. It is another sitting in the flatter camp, a little pale-looking. The scent is decidedly bready. Cut-through is promising. Decent fruit distribution and even, airy crumb. Flavour-wise, it’s very citrus-driven and disconcertingly under-spiced. Not unpleasant, but not true to the HXB profile. The cross is chewy and firm – an unexpected addition to a mouthful. Unusually with that heavy citrus, butter makes this bun worse – jarring against the zesty profile. Good toastability, but the citrus comes out even more – with the peel seeming pithy in profile all of a sudden, and the dough almost sickly (making butter oddly welcome when toasted). A rather tautologous bun. Fine, if you’re not a spice fan, but not a real HXB if you ask me. Solid fruit builds it up a touch, and that price is also appealing. 5.5/10 (initial score was outrageous – don’t know what I was thinking)
Luminary Bakery: £3.50. This social enterprise bakery focused on supporting women. It’s a bulbous bun – almost spherical. Questionable cross here. A very tight crumb and we’ve got another firm crust – a very bread-styled HXB, and with minimal fruit. It’s plain white, which I’m not anti, but do think you’ve got to do a lot to justify the premium pricing if you’re not getting serious flour. It’s mildly spiced, a little sweet, and not unpleasant but very bready. Obviously that structure is good for toasting, but there’s just not enough flavour impact here with fruit or spice to balance the dough, with the spice fading when toasted. It also really requires butter, not moist enough to fly solo. Love the premise of the bakery but this only earns a 5.5/10, I’m afraid.
Kossoffs: £3.50. Nice golden glaze, but monotonal (a stealth cross, someone suggested). It’s a style. It feels surprisingly heavy (if not Honey & Co heavy). Another bun sitting firmly on the bread side, even having a firm crust to the bun. The fruit looks plentiful, with a solid amount of peel and – I think – some rogue dried apricots. This is a little dry un-toasted, very citrus-led in flavour, giving a pleasant lift, but the spice is practically non-existent. Definitely needed toasting, and a solid stint in there to get some goo colour. But even with toasting, no spice emerged. This, I’m afraid, is just not a proper hot cross bun. It is not actively unpleasant so scores higher than some others, and does have some tasty fruit, but it’s not one to seek out (viennoiserie is where these guys excel, to be fair). Not bad bread, but not a great HXB. 5/10
Honey & Co: £3.90. Looked a little flat, but of course I tried one. Promisingly plump (flame?) raisin poking out the side. Surprisingly heavy in the bag. Did a drop test, and it had some heft. I don’t want to bun-shame but oh my… If you can get past that, the fruit is plump and looks pretty good, if a bit sparse. High peel level and nice distribution. Tasting reveals a very citrus-driven profile – that citrus was overwhelming the spiced dough. Butter helped tone down the citrus, but ultimately drowned out everything else. Perhaps unsurprising given its weight that this one held up in the toaster, but it also only accentuated the citrus peel. With butter, it was fine, helping balance the peel out. All in all, not as disappointing as some, but far from high-scoring. Scrapes a 5/10, for at least having some interest (and potential as a weapon)
The Dusty Knuckle: £2.50. Previously a top-contender, so the hype was real. Extremely good value with no price hike in two years (madness given rising costs). Cute looking. Fairly pale in colour but nice enough glaze. Broke a little bit of cross off (it was just winking at me over on that left side – surprisingly sweet in nature). TDK also shout about these being vegan BTW. But wait, what is this: cutting through reveals that it is basically just a bread roll. A truly despicable lack of fruit – perhaps where they’re cutting costs. We’ve got a density in the lower half of the bun too, a solidity, not quite a full rise, alas. Flavour-wise it is gently spiced – cinnamon-led, but given there is basically no fruit or peel… I don’t even know what to say. A grave disappointment. Perhaps not surprising that structurally it held up in the toaster, but nothing is redeeming this sad specimen. No amount of butter will make up for this. The broad cross also became particularly chewy, dominating each mouthful of the top half. And to think that I thought the fruiting level of Bread Ahead was disappointing. I’m so sorry but this is down to a 4/10, getting the same rating as the dough is at least nicer. Not worth the queue.
Bread Ahead: £1.50. A very reasonable price. A bargain in our times – but is that for a reason…? With some of the batch I bought half-crossed, possibly so. I wouldn’t say quality control is at its highest. But it’s an attractive enough bun. Something funny about the crispness to the crust, but a pretty glaze and classically styled cross (if you’re lucky enough to get one). Cut it open though… there’s basically no fruit. This disappointment in this sub-par fruiting level was real. A little bit of peel that worked quite well. But the whole thing desperately needed butter. It’s not as pappy as a supermarket number (nor as fruited) but only really a small step up from that calibre. Not enough spice, fairly neutral dough. All in all, it’s fine. But not a standard-bearer, nor one to chase. 4/10 even if it is a bargain.
Miel: £4. This was an unfortuantely very sad squashed number, pre-ordered from one of my top bakeries. “Bun” was a loose term for what I found in my bag. Ignoring the questionable presentation, it did smell fantastic – intensely cinnamon-laden. Cutting open, there’s a fluffy open crumb, but a little dry-looking and definitely low on fruit. Tasting and closer inspection revealed an abundance of very finely chopped peel – but it was rather bitter and pithy, rather than candied and delicious. And even butter couldn’t save the drought here. Toasting was traumatic to say the least. Many implements were needed to fish it out. Structurally unsound. It did reveal the spice (that seemed to vanish on tasting raw), but the core became bizarrely crackly. All in all, it was a waste of calories and a grave disappointment from a bakery that is otherwise excellent (go eat their pain suisse and die happy). Sorry guys, but that’s a 2/10. They’re actually going away to work on the recipe, so hyped to re-taste next year.
Hearth: £3.50. From another lovely social enterprise bakery, this is a confusing bun and I don’t know where it sits in the hot cross canon. This is a sourdough number and they’ve really leant into it. It’s much heavier and drier than your standard bun. It’s so firm, in fact, that anything other than a bread knife would struggle to get through this: no chance of ripping into it with your hands, that’s for sure. It does get a very high fruit rating: with a bounty of raisins, currants and candied peel! Oh my! but this really is a lightly spiced wholemeal sourdough roll with some fruit. I wouldn’t go near it raw again. Toasting absolutely required. Unsurprisingly it can handle the heat. In fact, it needs a considerable amount of time to get a good colour. With butter this is a nice enough sort-of fruit loaf of sorts… but I’m afraid it’s just not what it says on the tin. 1/10 for mis-marketing and being actively unpleasant raw.
Missed buns
For one reason or another, these were all on my list to try this year and I didn’t manage to secure one:
Bunhead Bakery
Milk Run
Chatsworth Bakehouse – only revealed very late in the day that these guys were in the HXB game, and sadly in the opposite direction to all other buns on the list, with extensive queues and no promise of availability. It was sacrificed, but I fear it could have been one of the best.
Populations Bakery – George wasn’t doing them this year, look forward to trying next year.
Fortitude (I tried): previous score only 5/10 and the price was already £3.95 already back in 2023
Pomme (I tried – twice)
Maya’s (I tried – three times!): previous score (2024), 8/10, £3.
Gaya (a requested addition, but in West London – soz)
Fortnum’s (a requested addition, sadly didn’t make it there)
Previously tasted but deemed not worthy of re-tasting this year: Gail’s, Blackbird, St John.
*A couple of rogue regional entries are included here, however don’t make the official ranking, just to be fair.
