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Raising Quails

This is not for the sensitive reader.

I’ve always been interested in the complete process of how something is made. How does yarn come from sheep to dirty sheared wool to soft luscious dyed yarn? This goes no different than with food.

Hatching and raising my own quails was a beautiful thing. All six little eggs hatched into a mix of teeny tiny male and female chicks.

Soon I realized, these suckers are loud. During their maturing/feathering stage, they looked like badminton shuttlecocks. They were quite hilarious looking.

And they were quite productive too. I was flooded with more quail eggs than I could consume and give away.

The first eggs were a cute uneven bunch.

Eventually, they were culled—especially the males first, because they did not get along, drove the females crazy, and were the loudest.

Was this gross? Was this “inhumane”? Gross maybe a little (culling was done by hand), but inhumane? Well, if you eat any meat, you don’t really have any right to say that it is.

Quails with foie gras, scallops, and grapes

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