I had been watching the pair of them for some time as they sat there expectantly in their sussex trug. They looked back today, accusingly. "Use us or else"...they seemed to say. It always seems to get to this part of our relationship. They, in their first flush of youth, looked so inviting, so comely on the greengrocer's shelf , that i couldn't help myself and brought both back home with me. Now, the first flush of youth having sallowed and gone, they threaten to turn nasty and pull on my conscience so that i have no choice but to choose to have them both on a plate for tea. I turn to your "30 minute cook" book and soon they are grilling nicely in the oven with a sprinkling of garden thyme. I am experimenting with freezing herbs - my own, and shop-bought pots. It is time to use up all the hundreds of little lock'n'lock boxes i bought to fill with pureed baby food when my little ones were tiny. I think it works well - as good as fresh, or nearly, and topped with canned cherry tomatoes and parmesan, serves me well.
You eat quail and complain how stuff seems to jump into your basket in the supermarket when you're not looking. I have that problem too, only the basket is by necessity the largest trolley available and the stuff that jumps into my trolley is not avocados and mangoes and other scrumptious delights, but seems to be pringles and chocolate buttons and more chocolate and the sort of sweets i won't let them have. And i wonder how they got there. Often it is too late and the cashier is ringing them through the till as i spot them half-hidden on the belt. It is less easy to be culinary creative with half a tube of pringles and a curly wurly.
Enjoy your quail. I suspect my larger teenagers would consider it finger food and remain waiting for the main event. Quantity over quality seems to be the order of their day.