Tender, crisp young turnips may, thickly peeled, be gently stewed in butter without being parboiled. They may also be braised in stock or bouillon, and when their braising liquid has been reduced to no more than a veil cloaking them, a bit of heavy cream may be dribbled over . . . Grated into a fine juliènne, salted, squeezed, and stewed in butter, there may be many unexplored possibilities. Among those explored, a pound of turnips, first prepared this way, may replace the sorrel and onion mixture in the sorrel tart; I have also sometimes spread a half-baked pastry shell with the butter-stewed turnip juliènne and poured the sorrel-onion quiche batter over the top to the general ravishment of the guests. The same turnip preparation would almost certainly provide another perfect base for soufflé puddings gratinéed with cream and grated cheese. But, were one to chase each passing thought, crystallize it, and put it to the test, cookbooks would never get written . . .