Before the party you have to peel the quails eggs. My mother offered to help me and do them all. There were a lot of eggs. 18 x 3. Whatever that is. So she boiled and peeled the day before, while I whisked and cooked and steamed and pickled. Then my dad offered to help, too.
Turns out peelings quails eggs is not his cup of tea. He quit.
My mother soldiered on, neatly.
Occasionally a waiting corgi swallowed a defective egg.