Paul Flynn: Three unashamedly rich and retro recipes

I came to love quail many years ago during my time working at Chez Nico in London, where they were always on the menu. The occasional surplus one was given to me and I savaged it like a hungry terrier.

A quail pie nearly always features on our winter menu in the Tannery, the meat encased in puff pastry along with smoked ham, foie gras and brioche. It is a thing to behold even if I say so myself, a committed non-trumpet blower.

Kidneys were also present on Nico’s menu, more often veal, surgically trimmed and sliced. They were then quickly sautéed with innumerable bay leaves, then coated in a shimmering veal and blackcurrant jus. Nico Ladenis was justly famous for his sauces. My job was to pass the many stocks through pristine layers of muslin, and woe betide if I got it wrong.

Unbeknownst to myself I’m writing an homage to that famous restaurant as my first taste of prune and armagnac ice-cream was there. It was never the most popular in Dungarvan as Irish people associate prunes with their bottoms. But I defy anyone not to be mesmerised by Nico’s warm tarte Bourdaloue with prune and armagnac ice-cream and a transcendental custard.

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Search is on for the Kenwood Young Baker 2021 winner

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Review: Confident cooking that makes full use of the local larder

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There’s a right time – and a right way – to teach children to cook

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Quail features prominently in Middle Eastern cooking, a world away from the haute cuisine of those rigid times. Things have loosened up and so have I. I know the birds can be difficult to get. Perhaps if you have a good relationship with your local restaurant, they can order them for you. Otherwise they are sold on the butchery counter at Fallon & Byrne in Dublin. If you can’t get hold of them, you can use a small (1.2kg) chicken, spatchcocked or halved, and cook two of them if you want to serve four. This dish is warm, musky and evocative, we need that these days.

The kidney dish is unashamedly rich, I’ve left the bay in it, mostly for show. If you can lay your hands on fresh bay, it will make all the difference.

I’m all about Jerusalem artichokes right now, their knobbly skins hold much delight. Here I’m doing a version of a cocktail party classic (if you move in those circles) and worked it into a pleasing starter. It’s a little bit retro but then so am I.

Recipe: Lebanese quail, bulgur wheat, almonds and grapes

Recipe: Sauté of lamb kidneys, bay leaves and blackberries

Recipe: Jerusalem artichoke devils on horseback