Hot Cross Buns with Chocolate Chips

March is technically a week away but Duluth doesn't care about the calendar. It cares about the lake, and the lake said winter this week — another six inches of snow on Monday, wind chills below zero on Tuesday and Wednesday, and the fog that rolls in when the open water meets the cold air, thick and gray and ghostly. I worked three shifts. Lost another patient — a man, seventy-one, colon cancer that had spread to his liver. He was a retired teacher, like Paul, and that always lands differently. When the patient could have been your husband, the grief has an edge to it. I didn't tell Paul. I don't always tell Paul. Some work stays at work, not because I'm hiding it but because the telling would hurt him unnecessarily, and nursing teaches you to be selective about which pain you share. Mamma called on Sunday. She sounds good — strong, sharp, opinionated about the weather ("too much snow, even for Duluth"), opinionated about the news (opinions withheld on her behalf, as I said, Johansson women keep their politics private), and opinionated about my cooking ("did you use enough cardamom in those cinnamon rolls you brought me last week? They were a little pale"). I said, "Yes, Mamma, I used enough." She said, "Use more next time." I will use more next time. I will always use more of whatever Mamma says to use more of because Mamma is always right and the sooner I accept this fully the sooner I will achieve culinary peace. I made a big batch of cinnamon rolls — kanelbullar — with extra cardamom, as directed. The dough took two hours — mixing, kneading, rising, rolling, filling, shaping, rising again, baking. It's a commitment. But the result is a cinnamon roll that smells like Mamma's kitchen in 1975 and tastes like Saturday morning and you can't put a price on that. I sent half to Sophie at the U of M. She texted back: "GRANDMA THESE ARE INCREDIBLE. My roommate wants the recipe." I texted: "She can have the recipe. She can't have the hands. The hands take forty years." Sophie sent a laughing emoji. I sent nothing because I don't understand emojis and I refuse to learn. Paul had three with his afternoon coffee and asked if I could teach him to make them. I said, "I've tried. You don't have the touch." He said, "I have the appetite." This is a fair division of labor. The light is coming back. I can see it — the evenings are longer, the mornings are lighter, and there's a quality to the sun that's different from January sun, sharper, more insistent. Not spring yet. Not even close. But the promise of spring, which is a different thing, and in March in Duluth, the promise is enough.

The kanelbullar were Mamma’s assignment, and they were worth every minute of the two-hour commitment—but this week I also found myself reaching for another slow, spiced dough, the kind that asks you to stay in the kitchen and just be present for a while. Hot cross buns with chocolate chips are not kanelbullar, but they speak the same language: enriched dough, warm spice, hands in flour, the particular quiet of a rising bowl. After a shift where grief has an edge to it, I’ll take any excuse to stand at the counter and knead something until it turns soft and smooth and ready.

Prep Time: 30 min (plus 1 hr 30 min rising) | Cook Time: 22 min | Total Time: 2 hr 25 min | Servings: 12 buns

Ingredients

3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus extra for dusting
1/4 cup granulated sugar
2 1/4 tsp active dry yeast (1 standard packet)
1 tsp fine salt
1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground allspice
1/4 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
3/4 cup whole milk, warmed to 110°F
1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled
2 large eggs, room temperature
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
For the egg wash: 1 egg beaten with 1 tbsp milk
For the crosses: 1/2 cup all-purpose flour mixed with 5–6 tbsp water to a pipeable paste
For the glaze: 2 tbsp apricot jam or honey, warmed

Instructions

Activate the yeast. Combine warm milk, sugar, and yeast in a large bowl. Stir gently and let sit for 5–10 minutes until foamy. If it doesn’t foam, your yeast is spent—start again with a fresh packet.
Make the dough. Add the melted butter and eggs to the yeast mixture and whisk to combine. Add the flour, salt, cinnamon, allspice, and nutmeg. Mix with a wooden spoon until a shaggy dough forms, then turn out onto a lightly floured surface.
Knead. Knead by hand for 8–10 minutes until the dough is smooth, elastic, and only slightly tacky. It should spring back slowly when poked. Alternatively, use a stand mixer with a dough hook on medium for 6 minutes.
First rise. Shape the dough into a ball and place in a lightly oiled bowl. Cover with a clean kitchen towel or plastic wrap and let rise in a warm spot for 1 hour, or until doubled in size.
Fold in the chocolate chips. Punch down the risen dough and turn it out onto a lightly floured surface. Flatten it slightly, scatter the chocolate chips across the surface, and fold the dough over itself repeatedly, working the chips in evenly. Divide into 12 equal pieces (about 85g each) and roll each into a smooth ball.
Second rise. Arrange the balls in a parchment-lined 9x13-inch baking pan, spacing them so they just touch. Cover loosely and let rise for 30 minutes, until puffy and pressing against each other.
Add the crosses. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Brush the buns with egg wash. Transfer the flour-and-water paste to a small zip-top bag, snip a tiny corner, and pipe a cross over each bun.
Bake. Bake for 20–22 minutes, until deep golden brown on top and the internal temperature reads 190°F. The buns should sound hollow when tapped on the bottom.
Glaze. While the buns are still warm, brush generously with the warmed apricot jam or honey. Let cool in the pan for 10 minutes before pulling apart.

Nutrition (per serving)

Hot Cross Buns with Chocolate Chips — The Dough That Keeps You Company on the Long Days