No. 2219

Boudins of Game or Chicken Blood a la Victorin

Boudins de Sang de Gibier ou de Sang de Volaille a la Victorin

Collect a pint of blood either from a hare, rabbit or chicken, stir into it a little vinegar to prevent coagulation; cut half as much breast of fat pork as there is blood into three-sixteenths of an inch squares, fry these in butter with a little chopped onion and mix in the blood, or else fry the onion in butter and stir into the blood some cooked veal udder instead of the fat pork, a little apple marmalade, and mix together; season well with salt, pepper, a little sugar and cream. With this preparation fill some sheep's casings one inch in diameter; when filled, but not too tight, divide them in three-inch lengths, tying the ends; poach, drain and when cold rub them over with lard; prick and broil them on a slow fire and serve plain without any sauce.

← No. 2218 Boundins of Game a la Berchoux Miscellaneous Entrées No. 2220 Boudins of Kingfish a la Poniatowski →

For the Modern Kitchen

A boudin noir in miniature, built on game or poultry blood rather than pig's. The whole thing hinges on temperature: blood proteins set hard and grainy if they ever see a boil.

Poach below a simmerHold the water at roughly 170-180F and keep it there while the boudins cook, about 20 minutes for one-inch casings. At a rolling boil the blood curdles into grit and the casings split.
Sourcing the bloodA pint of fresh blood now means an order from a butcher or licensed abattoir; it is a highly perishable product and should be used within a day of collection and kept refrigerated. Blood taken at home from wild hares and rabbits carries a real tularemia risk through skin contact and aerosol, quite apart from anything to do with cooking.
The vinegarAbout a tablespoon per pint is enough to delay clotting. Strain the blood through a fine sieve before mixing to catch any threads of fibrin that have already formed.
Fat porkThe recipe calls for the breast, i.e. fatty belly pork rather than back fat, and does not say whether fresh or salted. Half the volume of the blood is a generous but correct ratio; the diced fat is what keeps the set tender. Three-sixteenths of an inch is a scant quarter-inch dice.
Veal udderThe alternative binder is effectively unobtainable outside a few specialist butchers. Fat pork is the practical choice, and it is the version the recipe gives first.
Apple marmaladeNot preserves in the jam-jar sense but a thick, barely sweetened cooked apple pulp, reduced until it holds its shape on a spoon. Two or three tablespoons per pint of blood is in keeping with the seasoning list.
CasingsSheep casings of one inch are at the wide end of that grade; hog casings run 32-35mm and behave much the same. Fill loosely, as instructed, because the mixture expands as it sets and a tight sausage bursts.
Rubbing with lard, then broilingThe pricking lets steam escape so the skins do not burst over the fire; the lard greases them for the grill. A slow broil means gentle heat to warm through and colour the skin, not a hard sear.
YieldA pint of blood with its fat and binder fills something like fifteen to twenty three-inch boudins.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer wrote The Epicurean (1894) out of some thirty years running the kitchens at Delmonico's in New York, and the book's habit of giving three variants of everything reflects a restaurant kitchen using what came through the door. Blood sausage was old and unremarkable in France by then, but the classic boudin noir is a pig's-blood product; making one from hare, rabbit or chicken blood is a game-season economy, the blood saved when birds and hares were dressed rather than discarded. The apple in the mixture is the same instinct that puts apples beside boudin noir on a French plate, sweetness and acid cutting the iron taste of the blood. Dedication names such as à la Victorin run through the book by the hundred, honouring patrons, colleagues and predecessors; in most cases, this one included, the person behind the name has not been traced.