Quail diary

Quail egg

My first egg, at 5pm this afternoon! Three cms of dappled perfection, nestled in shredded bank statements inside the quail hutch, six months, twelve days and £278 later. Don’t know who laid it. The quail were all pootling about in the run. ”Well, at least one of them’s a girl, then,” says Himself, promising to cook me an amuse bouche – a teaspoon of scrambled egg on a mouthful of toast.

And I finished the run… without adding further to south London’s suspicious knife injury statistics.

Jippeeee! Good quail.

Small but perfectly formed - bantam eggs (left), quail egg and hen eggs.