In France, in the Channel Islands, and Belgium these delicacies are
introduced at the tables of the highest families, a distinction which
they richly deserve, while in England very few persons make them at
home, but purchase at the shops an indescribable mass of groats,
blood, bread, herbs, &c., and frequently, to cover the indolence of
the pork-butcher, loaded with such an amount of the commoner spices,
as to render the whole anything but palatable. Then, again, the fat,
which seems to be the only recommendation, is found here and there in
lumps so large, that before they become heated through, it is certain
the other of part of the mass must be burnt nearly to a cinder. I think
that we can produce an article well worthy of the trouble and slight
expense incurred by the trial. Take a couple of dozen of large onions,
peel them, cutting off the bottoms, cut them into small pieces, and put
them into a stewpan along with ten ounces of sweet lard, and stew them
slowly till of a light brown colour. Cut three pounds of pig’s leaf
that is perfectly sweet and dry into dice, pick out all the skins.
Boil half a dozen heads of endive, chop them fine and add to the fried
onions; season them with
Table salt 2 oz.
White pepper ¾ teaspoonful
Parsley, finely chopped 4 tablespoonfuls
Thyme, in fine powder 1 tablespoonful
Bay leaves 2 tablespoonfuls
Half a nutmeg, grated
Now add three quarts of pig’s blood――calf’s, or sheep’s is as
good――that has not been long taken from the animal, and if still warm
is preferable. Mix all intimately, and if you find the mixture is too
thin to work well, add a handful or two of stale bread crumbs, or
half to three quarters of a pound of rice, boiled just tender but not
mashed. Take now the smaller pudding skins which have been properly
scraped and cleaned, wash them in salt and water, and with a tin funnel
tie one end of the skin tightly upon it, and the other end up in a
knot, two feet or a yard will be a convenient length. Proceed now to
fill your skins by pressing the meat through the funnel, pricking with
a pin to let out the air. When nicely and firmly filled, tie up the
end, and put the puddings into a flat large pan, with plenty of water
tasting slightly of salt, and already boiling, and let them simmer
twenty minutes, or rather more, attentively watching and pricking them
to prevent bursting. When the blood oozes out no longer, they are
fully cooked, then take them up and let them lie all night on a sieve.
Cut them into pieces four to six inches long, and when wanted for table
wipe them lightly over with a linen rag dipped in olive oil, and broil
them ten minutes. Serve them plain, but very hot. If you cannot procure
endive, you may substitute celery, which must be boiled along with
three or four laurel leaves; the tender parts only must be used. Leeks
also are generally liked, but in that case part of the onions must be
omitted.