Juliet Glyn Smith was a very good friend of my wife and myself. When she died many years ago, sadly prematurely, she left me with a culinary conundrum. Invariably when invited to large parties at her house in Richmond, the already jolly Juliet would show me a large black pot full of what appeared to be boiled quails. I can’t now ever find out what her intentions were, but I was always invited to try and improve on the dish. This
