Quail was commonly available in markets when I was a child. In the late decades of the 20th century, there were many attempts to stop the depletion of wild quail from the rapidly diminishing forest cover in India. The result was a long ban on the sale of quail. This has been cautiously revoked since 2014, and currently one can buy farmed quail. It is not as simple as ordering from your delivery service, because it can only be sold under license, and the buyer needs to submit identity documents. But once you go through it, you can buy dressed Japanese quail (Coturix japonica).
I had never made this before. I’d more or less forgotten the taste of the meat. So the first decision was what marinade to use. I went with a regular harissa marination. I like the complex taste of harissa paste by itself: red chili tempered with lime, and the notes of garlic, jeera, coriander seeds, and kaala jeera. Since it goes well both on chicken and fish, it couldn’t go wrong with quail. I guess a fifteen minute marination should be fine, although I forgot about them for a while, and it became an hour. Then I found that I was not sure about cooking times, and I did not want to pop it into an oven.
Instead I improvised an oven with a thick walled pressure cooker. If you leave the top open and keep it on a low gas flame, then it stays at a reasonably constant temperature without building up pressure. I put in a tiny spoonful of oil just so that the bird does not stick to the metal. When it was hot I put the two small birds into it carefully with tongs. The thighs tend to stick, so it was necessary to turn them quickly. I could see it browning before my eyes. It is hard to control the temperature with an improvisation like this. Towards the end of the cooking I found that the pressure cooker had got too hot. I had a bottle of IPA cooling in the fridge, so I splashed some into the cooker to cool it down. The yeasty taste turned out to be a good addition.
Fifteen minutes of cook time. That was good. And at the end I had most of a bottle of IPA left over. It was time for a decadent late afternoon snack. An IPA and quail. Nice. Both. The Family raised an eyebrow, but she joined me at the table.
Later, reading about Japanese Quail I had a moment of shock. These birds had been bred in Japan for 9 centuries (since about the time that Lady Murasaki wrote the Tales of Genji), and the different breeding lines were famous for their songs. All those centuries of culture were wiped out in the aftermath of the second world war. Now they are just farm and lab animals. What a devastating cultural loss!
I’d thought that our trip to Germany would be a quiet one, where we would largely stay at home, read, go for long walks in forests turning to gold. We did this for about a week before we began to travel extensively. My plans of cooking with seasonal produce came to nothing. I passed a farmer’s markets once, and looked longingly at the pumpkins, mushrooms and ginger. A mushroom stock is a nice thing to use with a pumpkin, tomato and ginger soup. I had it planned out in my mind. But because I was going to travel for the next four days, I just took the featured photo instead of buying the produce.
Eventually my closest brushes with seasonal food came in some restaurants. I searched for a place which would serve goose, though the beginning of November was too early for it. The first two courses gave us goose, quail and duck. Game is also seasonal food. The main course of roast duck with potato dumplings, baked apple, and red cabbage with pears was a typical Westphalian dish, with a balance of sweet and salt. That night the temperature had dropped to about two degrees, so this hearty food was delightful.
The dessert was another very local and seasonal creation: gingerbread creme brulee with a pumpkin seed parfait. The nutty parfait was wonderful with the candied orange peels that you can see in the photo above. I’d never had a gingerbread creme brulee before. It was quite a surprise. It was a big meal, but one I was happy to have tasted.
If you think that south Indian food is quite different from north Indian, you are right. If you think that all south Indian food is roughly similar, then you are wrong. We landed in Kochi airport at 8 in the morning, met Shankumar, who was supposed to drive us to Munnar and back, and set out immediately. After half the journey was over, Shankumar stopped at a very clean roadside eatery for breakfast. It was exactly what we were prepared for: idlis and utthapams, sambar and coconut chutney with dosas. Along with this wonderful filter coffee. We relaxed into a holiday eating frame which was totally wrong.
Of course we knew that there was more: fish curry, appam with spicy stew, and various such things find their way easily into the menu west of the Nilgiris, and are harder to find east of the Deccan’s divide.
The one thing we had forgotten completely was Malabar’s long history of trade across the Indian ocean. Many recipes were exchanged across the centuries. Today the tremendously aromatic Malabar biriyani is a tradition which stands independent of the several other biriyani traditions of India. Along with this we discovered that game which has become rare in northern India is more easily available here: quail, partridge and pheasant were all available. What a wonderful surprise this turned out to be.
And another pleasant surprise was the local coffee: coffee grounds are boiled with molasses and cardamom to make a wonderful morning’s shot of caffeine. This is another recipe which is a reminder of Malabar’s trading history. People from Kerala were responsible for smuggling coffee out of Arabia. Once they got it home, of course, they spiked it with local ingredients. Discoveries like this make a memorable holiday.