The quail unfortunately falls into a kind of bird purgatory; it is not a game bird, though some describe it as such, but is now a thoroughly farmed bird, so not glamorous enough to warrant the “hands on” battling that people feel justified to exert on grouse and partridge, and is denied from joining the chicken’s gang, as it is seen to be too fiddly to eat. Then finally, to kick the quail while it’s down, people say it has no flavor.
Put all this behind you and let me put forward the case for the joys of a bowl of thoroughly roasted quails.
I’m considering having an “Austin Offal Eaters” lunch at the Asia Cafe in the Asia Market located on Spicewood Spring road in Austin. If enough people are interested, I’ll set a date in May. Post a comment if you’d like to come!
This is the last recipe of the comic trio. I’ve got to remember to bug Laura for a copy of that comic. I’m determined to have it hanging in my kitchen.
Now, the recipe called for just ten quail, but since I was having quite a few people over I decided to triple the recipe. Thankfully this recipe is so simple–it has four total ingredients–that tripling it was trivial. The simplicity means that this update will be rather short. I’m sorry about that, the next update will have a bit more meat to it, if you’ll pardon the pun.

I found these quail at my usual shopping location, MT Supermarket. Here’s a homework assignment for you: find your closest Asian market, and go for a visit. You’ll find all sorts of deals and produce that might very well put your regular supermarket to shame.

I seasoned the quail heavily with salt and pepper, and then browned them in a hot pan with just a splash of olive oil in it. I probably shouldn’t have crowded the pan so much, as that can lead to steaming, which isn’t really what I wanted.

With the quail properly browned, they were ready for the oven. Mr. Henderson mentions in the recipe that quail are rather hardy, and are more than capable of taking a high heat. As a matter of fact, he insists on cooking them until the legs can easily be pulled from the ribcage. So into a nice hot oven the quail went for 20 minutes.

After the time had elapsed, I had a big pile of well done and salty quail ready to eat. Mr. Henderson also suggested serving them with a bowl of lentils–which I forgot to take a picture of.
Sadly, it seems like I fall into that group of people that say that quail have little flavor. Don’t get me wrong, I think they’re great to eat, and it’s fun dealing with all the little bones and such, but when it comes down to it they just don’t have a unique flavor. I’d say they remind me of chicken, with a slightly gamey taste. They were sure easy to make and the presentation is hard to beat. Who wouldn’t like to find themselves faced with a huge platter of roasted quail? I certainly wouldn’t object, I’ll tell you that much.
One down, eighty six to go.