Strange Meat

I knew I was going to eat some sort of organ meat, or something strange in Paris. I was ok with that, and so I haven’t been too careful with my menu translations. Finally, my carelessness paid off and I was treated to a strange black sausage tartlet. It was good, tender with a crunchy outside. It had a fairly sweet flavor and nice subtle spice. I knew it was something weird, but at the time, just ate up, acting as if I knew what I was doing. I remembered the name of the thing: Boudin Noir.

Turns out I ate pork blood sausage. John ate some too. We squeeled just a little bit, but were also a bit proud for taking a little culinary adventure. Apparently, it’s one of the oldest known charcuterie traditions in France, having a history of some 2000 years. That made me feel fairly French inside, but I wondered how I would feel the next day so to speak. It’s a bit hard to stomach the idea of it, but actually it was fairly ok. Now knowing that Boudin is blood sausage, I’m not sure it would feel the same going down, but trying something once is a good way to know what it feels like.