Lots of egg talk because late last week I learned that it is currently egg season. In the spirit of local, seasonal and animal friendly (check out that article) Rémi and I headed out to the market Saturday morning to take advantage of what we'd learned. Not only was it an occasion for trying the enormous goose eggs sold by the cheese-people (the fromager, but whatever), but 18 tiny quail eggs, a 1/2 lb. of fresh butter with sea salt, one rich creamy cheese (whose name I've forgotten but who cares), some blood oranges, and a fresh loaf of crusty sourdough bread later, we had exhausted our brunch food fantasy list for the week. (Oh, and there was a melon. Mmmm, fresh, ripe melon.)
I spent a summer in Portugal not very long ago where I ate my fair share of quail eggs. I had first seen them in a restaurant served on a plate piled high with flor do sal and when I later found them in the grocery store it was hard boiled egg heaven for three months.