Capt C. killed 2 bucks and 2 buffaloe, I also killed one buffaloe which proved to be the best meat, it was in tolerable order; we saved the best of the meat, and from the cow I killed we saved the necessary materials for making what our wrighthand cook Charbono calls the boudin blanc, and immediately set him about preparing them for supper; this white pudding we all esteem one of the greatest delacies of the forrest, it may not be amiss therefore to give it a place. … it is then baptised in the missouri with two dips and a flirt, and bobbed into the kettle; from whence after it be well boiled it is taken and fryed with bears oil untill it becomes brown, when it is ready to esswage the pangs of a keen appetite or such as travelers in the wilderness are seldom at a loss for.”
– The Journals of Lewis and Clark, 1804-1806
Buenos Aires – For whatever reason, it seems that my boudin blanc from last weekend’s dinner has generated much interest. I’ve received a dozen e-mails asking questions about it, ranging from simple “can you describe how it tasted?” to requests for clarification about the process of making it. There’s even a discussion about it going on amongst several folk on Facebook. Who knew that such a pale sausage could elicit such passion?
On the other hand, they were really, really good. And I had a small amount of sausage stuffing leftover – or sort of returned, since it was basically a couple of sausages that burst while I was tying them off and I simply put the filling into the refrigerator rather than going to the trouble of stuffing more casings. And next morning that led to one of the best breakfasts I think I’ve ever had. Really.
I took the remaining sausage meat and mixed in one extra egg to help it bind together – possibly not necessary but I didn’t want to take a chance that it would fall apart. I patted it into a couple of patties, and simply sauteed one in a mix of butter and neutral oil. When it was cooked, I set it aside on some paper towel to drain, and slipped an egg into the same pan, cooking it until the white had just set and the yolk merely quivered with anticipation. I trimmed the egg, slid it atop the boudin. I drained most of the oil out of the pan, leaving just whatever didn’t easily pour out, and into that I put a handful of chopped green onions, cooking them over very high heat until they’d just started to soften – only about 30-40 seconds. I deglazed the pan with a fruit vinegar, cooked it another 10 seconds or so, and spooned the sauce over the boudin and egg. I added a little fresh cracked black pepper and a sprinkle of coarse sea salt, and sat down to feast. Let’s put it this way, it was so good, that although I’d planned to do something else with the other patty at a later moment in the day, I went ahead and made another one and ate it.
