Mmn, ca vous donne envie?
This is the un-cooked version. I just couldn’t resist. It’s a dish called ‘Andouillette‘.
I’ve got to say that this is one of the only dishes I can’t get myself to enjoy. Don’t get me wrong, I have been raised well and have of course done the right thing and tried it. I have tried it many times in fact – each time trying to savour the flavour as much as those around me (not much pressure here – it’s a Frenchie family favourite). But I’m sorry, everytime I do, I get a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’ flavour. Actually no, I’m lying. I know what I taste – and it’s a taste I wouldn’t normally associate with fine cuisine. Getting me? Sorry, but it does. You should smell the fumes when these babies are smoking in the pan. I thought tripe in Mum and Dad’s pressure cooker was bad.
The first time I ate Andouillette the je-ne-sais-quoi flavour lingered in my mouth well into the following morning (I had brushed my teeth three times). I was horrified and complained to Benji about the disturbingly bad taste. “Well, it is half made of shit,” was his answer.
Am I making your mouth water by now? Look it up and see what’s in it. It’s a delicacy that, in it’s ‘purest’ (and by this I mean ‘smellier’ version) form, you don’t find often, if ever, outside of France. Strange.
As I don’t tend to serve this at home, my mother-in-law likes to get some in preparation for her boy’s arrival. They all laugh at me as they’re tucking into it with dollops of mustard, wondering how on earth I can’t adore this dish. I can only sit there and make cheap comments on the dish’s obvious aesthetic merits and delightfully heady aromas. “My poor son!” my mother-in-law consoles… “At least here at your mother’s you can enjoy Andouillette!”
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The Vigneron's Wife 