Some True Facts About Quail

Over the last couple of weeks I have been lucky enough to eat some particularly fine quail. Although small, quail packs quite the flavour punch, like there are a bunch of people engaged in a lively, albeit humorous, debate in your mouth, which rapidly descends into a friendly, almost sexual, play fight that features the gratuitous use of pillows and, eventually, pies … probably made from quail. Who would have known that this small flightless bird could attain such rarefied airs of sublime deliciousness? Well I didn’t. Indeed, I realised I know very little about quail, which is clearly a failure of Australian educational practices. I had to remedy this absence of knowledge. Thus, after some exhaustive research this morning, I present Some True Facts About Quails to educate us all about this delicacy that we like in and around our mouths.

·       The word ‘quail’ is often thought to be derived from the latin, quaipollus, which essentially means ‘tiny poultry.’ However, its etymological roots lie in the French word, quaileux, which translates roughly to ‘flightless morsel.’

·       The quail can be genetically traced back to the velociraptor of the Cretaceous Period.

·       The quail’s flightlessness belies its surprizing agility and uncanny ability to locate rabbit burrows for safety.

·       Like the duck, the noise of the quail is a robust ‘quack.’ Unlike the duck, however, the quail’s quack is capable of echoing.

·       It was the spirit animal of the Mongolian conqueror, Genghis Khan, who learnt his exquisite horseback bow skills chasing them around the steppes of Asia. He ate no less than five whole quails before engaging in any battle, displays of (unspecified) might, or romps of virile fornication.

·       The quail is the unofficial bird of Scotland. They believe it espouses values of rugged freedom underneath an exterior too small to actually do much about it.

·       Although it has fallen out of use, to be called a ‘quail’ in the Elizabethan era was quite the complement. By way of analogy, to be dubbed a ‘quail’ then, is to be named a ‘total babe’ now. ‘That Queen Elizabeth is a quail, sir.’ ‘Yes, quite a quail.’

·       The first documented recipe for quail is attributed to the 16^th century German alchemist, Günter Gertler. Believing the flesh of the quail—which he held sacred—to be the key in turning base metals into gold, Günter slow-cooked it in a sauce of goat’s milk, magnesium and sodium, with a dash of chlorine. Unfortunately, the concoction failed to convert iron to gold, but, curious at the robust scent of his work, upon taking a nibble of quail, Günter was astounded to discover it was delicious to the palate. For a brief period, before the schnitzel assumed prominence and people realised it was causing them all severe heartburn, goat’s milk chlorinated quail was the dish of Germany.

·       Although the main dietary source of the quail is small nuts, they have also been known to devour insects and hunt down field mice (true to their velociraptor heritage).

·       The collective noun for a group of quail is ‘a grounded.’

·       They make terrific pets for young children as they are prolific at games of fetch, although it is recommended that twigs, as opposed to smaller marbles, are used.

·       The quail will viciously defend its eggs in March, thus the notable of absence of steak tartare with quail egg from menus during this period.

·       In BMX parlance, a ‘quail’ is the manoeuvre when a rider goes over a jump and doesn’t get any air.

·       The source of its deliciousness has been the frequent study of many fine food-science minds. Theories range from their diet of field mice, to more theological notions of their apparent godliness embodied in the universality of quail appreciation. The only common hypothesis, however, seems to revolve around the flimsy bones of the quail, which most agree imparts some measure of its deliciousness. For some excellent elucidation on the mystery of quail flesh see: White, The Bird That Wasn’t, But Was (2000), Grey, On Matters of the Tiny Poultry (1967), and Hammersmith, Quizzically Questioning Quail’s Piquant (1876).