Friday morning started out with a nice breakfast in the Montenotte. There was a full spread “Irish breakfast.” Eggs, bacon (which is more like Canadian bacon), sausage, toast, beans (some white bean in a sweet-ish red sauce - yum!), and black pudding. Black pudding was the one thing I had sort of vowed never to eat. It seems like on each trip I try some local delicacy, the thought of which is usually disgusting to Americans. In Peru it was guinea pig, in Japan it was cod sperm, in Ireland it’s black pudding. What is black pudding you wonder? It’s fried blood. This one was tempered by the fact that there was barley and spices in it, so it tasted more like sausage. Still, the thought grossed me out enough that I couldn’t do more than
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