Boudin blanc with prunes

Ahoy!

As I awoke to a dreary morning (that accounts for the poor quality of the pictures, btw), I realised this finally was the big day, Boudin-Making Day. After gathering strength from a hearty breakfast, I put the radio on and set down to work. Some of you may be interested to know that the background discussion on France Musique this morning was about how Guillaume de Machaut’s music fitted in

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Mirabelle jam

It’s not the proper kind, not the real deal, the one that you let boil in huge copper pans and then leave in your basements for a couple of months for it to develop it perfect flavour. You make it, you scoff it (tu le fais, tu le bâfres). Fast, preferably, because it doesn’t keep well due to the low amount of sugar used. Shame ain’t it (ça craint, non).
No

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