Where's the Covey

Over the weekend, Johnny took us out to hunt a few birds released the week before and then to the wild coveys nearby.  Most of the hunting on his land is over released quail until the wild quail catch up with all the habitat work he's been doing.  So this was indeed a treat.

As we approached a great looking haunt, the dog started to get active.  And then it happened.  But just one bird rose.  We searched and searched for the covey, but with no success.  We figured they were busted up by something else before we got there.  So we headed back to camp and would try this covey again in the morning.

In the morning the dog froze as soon as we arived back to this place.  A good strong point, and we walked in thinking of a great covey rise.  Again, one bird.  Again we searched.  Again we left wondering where's the covey.

Quail Fry

Recently, I tried to search for a quail recipe on the internet that would be simple but tasty.  What I found were long recipes that might require the assistance of sous chef.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure these recipes produce master piece meals delightful to the most discriminating palate.  But for me, I just want it simple, easy and tasty enough for my simple taste buds.

So here’s a simple way to prepare quail:

What you’ll need:

A frying pan half full of oil

Quail, skinned, split down the back, and cleaned – two per person

Flour

Salt

Pepper

Here is the simple part.  Take the quail, rinse them, sprinkle with salt and pepper and throw them in a bag of flour.  For those of you who have to measure, I guess one cup of flour plus ¼ cup of flour per bird will do.  Johnny claims you have to use a Thompson’s bag to ensure perfection, but any old plastic grocery bag will do.

Heat the oil over medium high heat.  The oil is ready when a drop of water throw in the pan will sizzle and dance on the top.  Now just place the quail in the oil for a few minutes then turn the quail over with a fork and fry for a few minutes more.  You’ll know the time to turn the quail by the color of the flour.  You want it to just start turning golden.  One note is to make sure you don’t overcook the birds.  Drying it out will ruin it.  For those of you who measure the flour, you can use a meat thermometer to check for doneness.  It should read 170 to 180 F.

In hunting camp, we like to serve the quail with rice and gravy and beans.  For the gravy, just pour out most of the grease, salt and pepper the grease and then add enough flour to make the grease thicken.  Stir over the heat until the mixture becomes think, adding more flour if needed.

Enjoy, and go ahead and use your hands to eat it like you would fried chicken.

Now that’s simple, quick and easy and because the oil cooks it so fast, the quail don’t dry out.

What Does Quail Mean Anyway?

If you asked me what quail means, I would say hunting with my Dad, watching the dog work or waiting for my son and daughter to hit their first bird on a covey rise.  Twenty some odd years ago, someone might have said “the vice-president” when asked what quail means.  What do our youth today say?

Don McKenzie makes the point that kids today do not even know what quail are, not to mention what it means.  Not even kids in a hunter education class.  To help reverse this trend as well as the trend of less habitat for quail, go to Things Today's Kids May Never Know About and read his story.

A Long Awaited Hunt

Johnny and I planned to meet in mid March to get some samples for a soil test of the dove field.  If the weather wasn’t too warm, he offered to bring a few quail to set out.  He had obtained a new bird dog back in August and was spending time in training, so time on birds would be great for Jip, the seven month old Brittany.  The added bonus for us was the chance to shoot a few quail.  Yeah they were pen raised, but at least we were hunting.

My in laws were in town that week for the big St. Patrick’s Day celebration in Savannah, so I invited my Father-in-Law, Merlin, as well as my daughter to come with us.  It had been close to 20 years since I last followed a dog in the field for quail, and as we drove the 2 ½ hours to Johnny’s land, my excitement grew.

When we turned onto the dirt path leading to the tract, we scared two gobblers off the road.  There’s a lot of game in the area and we’re almost guaranteed to see something with each trip.  Upon arrival at the camp, Johnny was waiting and Jip was going wild ready to hunt.  He had that look of a good bird dog ready to work; energized but focused.  A quick change of shoes to boots, loading the guns, and we were off.  Johnny led us down wind of where he placed the birds and Jip started that zigzag pattern of a good bird dog in search of game.

Suddenly, he froze 50 yards ahead of us. Watching the stiff dog, with paws raised and eyes focused, I think I froze too.  I don’t know that words can describe the beauty of a point.  Somehow a dog that was frantically weaving through the field suddenly stops, and every hair on his body is still.  Somehow he goes from a determined expression to eyes that show a wild focus.  It’s amazing.

After I regained my composure, we tried to get to the birds in time.  But Jip was an impatient young pup and ran them up before we could get there.  We had agreed not to shoot at anything that he ran up in an attempt to teach the dog that a reward only followed holding a point.

So we continued with Jip chasing up birds or birds flying too low for a shot without risking the dog.  After a while, the dog started to tire and we took a break to both water Jip and grab some soil for the test.  When we started back up, Jip was more controlled and held a good point.  As I approach, the bird shot up and I quickly put it down.  The nice thing about pen raised birds is they give even a poor shot like me some confidence.

Later, Jip found another single, but as I approached the quail took off low with the dog starting to follow.  I waited for the bird to clear and mounted for another shot.  At the very instance I was about to slap the trigger, I heard the report from Merlin’s gun.  I shot in the instance afterwards and the bird fell.  I’m not sure who hit the quail, maybe we both did, but Merlin let me claim the bird.  That’s the thing about family and friends when you hunt.  No arguments, no fights, just fun in the field.

Finally, after some 20 years, I got in the field for quail.  To benefit, my daughter got to experience it as well.  Her favorite part?  “Watching Jip hunt for the birds.”

Later that week, I took the soil to the state and started to impatiently await the results.


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