A few years ago, a friend was visiting Toronto and found a Cajun store. He had grown up in Louisiana, so he called me, thrilled that he had discovered a source in the Northeast for some of his favorite Cajun ingredients. And yes, on hand were plenty of Cajun spices, store-made gumbos, and alligator meat. But the one thing this store didn’t have was boudin—a Cajun sausage that you also can’t find in New York.
“No boudin?” I said. “That’s a shame. Perhaps I should just try to make it myself.”
It took me a while, but five years later I finally did.
Boudin (also spelled boudain), if you’re not familiar with it, is a sausage that’s stuffed with pork, liver, rice, and a host of aromatics and spices. It’s what fuels road trips heading east on I-10 from Houston into Louisiana, as almost every gas station worth its salt will have poached or smoked boudin on hand, ready for snacking.
After you fill up the tank and stretch your legs, you grab a link, lean against the counter and squeeze the sausage until the filling oozes out the end, like toothpaste out of a tube. You take a big bite, wash it down with a cold beverage and continue eating until nothing but the casing remains. (The casing, which most don’t eat, is thrown away.) Of course, there are some fastidious types who prefer to eat boudin with a knife and a fork, but where’s the fun in that?
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