Literally frying up some blood sausage rn, which reminded me of this great piece of literature:

>As the pork approach Orm and Toke, they sat quite still, with their faces turned toward the pot, watching the boy closely as he fished for the meat. They sighed blissfully as he lifted out fine pieces of shoulder pork to put on their plates, reminding each other how long it was since they had last eaten such a dinner, and marveling that they had managed to survive so many years in a country where no pork was allowed to be eaten. But when the blood-sausage arrived, tears came into their eyes, and they declared that they had never eaten a meal worthy of the name since the day they had sailed away with Krok.

>“This is the best smell of all,” said Orm in a small voice.

>“There is thyme in it,” said Toke, huskily.