Curdled and boiled blood—usually from a pig—to be exact. The blood is mixed up nicely with chunks of pork, spices, onion, fat and oatmeal, and then stuffed into a casing.
It’s called “black” because when grilled it’s perfectly black except for those lovely chunks of fat scattered all around waiting to take up residence in your arteries. It’s called “pudding” because…hmmm…could it be because Black Blood doesn’t sound nearly as appetizing as Black Pudding?
But I am here to tell you: No matter how good the word "pudding" makes it sound, and no matter how much the guy on the plane told us we had to try it and that it would be the first thing he ordered when he got to London, Black Pudding is simply awful. I wanted to throw up. It ruined the whole meal. It ruined the whole restaurant. Do not eat this.
But, on the other hand, lots and lots of people just love it. You might love it too. I don’t understand it but there you have it.