Biscuits and Boudin

Easter morning, Michael baked buttermilk biscuits. They were delicious and bunny shaped and egg shaped. We ate them with butter and yummy, tart, loganberry preserves.


Michael was using a recipe out of Dad's copy of The Joy Of Cooking. I was sitting at the kitchen table watching him roll out the dough, randomly flipping through the cookbook, and I found this:


My great-Grandma Bernier's recipe for boudin!

Dad never made it, but he had extremely fond memories of it, along with the rest of Grandma Bernier's french cooking. Boudin always sounded so savory and delicious, the way Dad described it. (Then I grew up and discovered he was talking about boudin noir, which is blood sausage and that yes, indeed, it is sausage with blood in it.)

I don't think I'll ever try to make this recipe. I don't think Whole Foods or Trader Joes carries cracklens. Or pig blood. But I loved finding this little memory of Dad.