I spent the last week in Ireland, riding around and doing the B&B thing. They serve big, yummy, greasy breakfasts that always include black and white pudding. The first morning I woke up not feeling "gentle", having behaved myself the night before, I was ready to try the puddings (puddings being such lovely things here in the U.S.) when my host launched into a truly graphic tale of how black pudding gets its flavor; it involved a lot of urine and blood and I won't get more specific for the sake of you readers. I suspect he was partly joking, but that thaere was a kernel of truth in there (it is made with blood, is it not?). He finished his story and with an evil grin, popped a black pudding in his mouth and suddenly I was feeling "gentle" all over again. I never did try them.