I can’t really remember how it started except that, as you do, there she was bouncing up and down and I told her she was good enough to eat (as you do). She expressed the view she’d ike to remain intact and I think I said something like “well, there is always black pudding“. I wasn’t serious. Really – I wasn’t.
But, we decided a collaring wasn’t right for us (because she is shared) and that eating each other could be a great celebration of our commitment.
I am posting this (it was formerly on Informed Consent), on 5 September 2012, the third anniversary of our black pudding day.
The recipe:
- 70mls our own blood, mixed.
- 1/4 onion, finely chopped
- 150gms of suet
- A little bacon fat, diced
- 20ml double cream
- 30g oatmeal, soaked overnight in spring water)
- 25g barley, boiled in spring water for 30 minutes and cooled
- pinch each of salt, ground coriander, black pepper and ground mace
Soften the onion in a little of the suet – make sure it does not colour. Add the rest of the suet and slowly sweat for 10 minutes.
Take the blood you need at this point. Keep it moving if you can – or it will coagulate.
Add the oatmeal and cream and cook for a few minutes – then add the rest of the ingredients and stir over a gentle heat for 5 minutes. Don’t stop stirring, be gentle. When the mixture thickens (like scrambled egg) you are ready to make the puds. It catches easily (you are making a tiny amount) so DON’T stop stirring!
Bake the puddings in ovenproof containers (we used ramekins), standing them in a larger ovenproof container half filled with water) in a low oven (150 degrees or gas mark 2) for about 60-90 minutes. The top turns black quickly – the key is that it should feel firm.
You can then cut slices and fry or bake. We fried. A picture of the finished product is on my profile.
My partner’s view
It was an amazing project, long in the planning and execution (but that was because the blood wouldn’t come out!) and yet it made a difference.
We are “blood bound” – though we sort of were already, as we’ve signed our rule book in blood and he has tasted mine after the diabetic pricker session – but I digress…
It appears that there is something quite strange about wanting to eat one another – even though we made it a bit about protocol and a bit about friends and even a bit about the recipe. We were careful and considered lots of information about the likely risks.
It was a special evening – but the breakfast was amazing. Waking to the warmth of his body, then pottering in the kitchen helping prepare mushrooms, and all the while feeling slightly floaty. It was fun, watching him – it looked like black pudding, it smelled like black pudding, it cut like black pudding (complete with little cubes of fat – though it was a healthy eating recipe!) and it tasted like a fine black pudding!
Not sure what else to say, really.
5th September is a sort of anniversary.