The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 2133

Quails with Bay Leaf

Cailles au Laurier

Pick, draw and singe six quails, truss for roasting (No.179). Chop up the livers, the same quantity of chicken liver and as much grated fat pork as liver; add chopped parsley, pepper, a tablespoonful of chopped shallot, a handful of bread-crumbs and one small beaten egg. Mix the ingredients well together and fill the quails with it; roast them in a moderate oven, basting over frequently with lard; drain this into a saucepan and add to it some bread-crumbs, raw ham cut in one-eighth squares, fry nicely and put in two bay leaves, moisten with thickened, gravy (No.405) and game-glaze (No.398); skim off the fat, add the juice of a lemon and also a little butter; mix well with a wire whisk, dress, and pour the sauce over the quails.

For the Modern Kitchen

Ranhofer writes for a professional brigade with stockpots already going, so the sauce leans on two cross-references. Everything else is straightforward roast game bird work, and the main risk is overcooking.

A Little History

Charles Ranhofer ran the kitchen at Delmonico's in New York, and The Epicurean (1894) is essentially that restaurant's working repertoire set down in print, which is why quail appear here in many variations while a household cookbook of the same decade might offer one. Quail were then genuinely plentiful game, shot in quantity and sold in market stalls; the collapse of wild bobwhite populations and the later bans on the sale of wild game moved quail from the market to the game farm. The dish itself is a small exercise in classic economy: the birds' own livers, stretched with chicken liver and pork fat, become the stuffing, and the fat rendered during roasting becomes the base of the sauce. Cailles au laurier means simply quails with bay, and the bay is doing what a single dominant aromatic often does in this book, giving an otherwise rich liver-and-ham sauce one clear line to hang on.