Learn to COOK - How to Read a French Fry: and Other Stories of Intriguing Kitchen Science

Food writer Elliot Essman's other reviews and food articles are available at www.stylegourmet.com

While Brown and Volker give scientific explanations of culinary phenomena, with Brown's chapters in `I'm Only Here for the Food' being somewhat deeper than Volker's question and answer format, Parsons is looking at culinary facts from a much broader point of view. It is as if all three understand food and all three have good scientific explanations for food facts, but only Parsons understands SCIENCE. Alton Brown gives an excellent metaphor for science in describing what he does as drawing a roadmap of a neighborhood (of custards, for example) rather than simply giving step by step instructions as one would when writing out the method for a recipe. Brown, however, seems constantly constrained by the limits of a 30-minute `Good Eats' episode or of a book chapter on braising.

Parsons addresses the whole field of food science from the other direction. He doesn't talk about what causes meat to brown (and why this tastes so good) or how simmering in water creates gelatin in stocks, or how the barbecue method is so good at producing tender meat from tough primals. Instead, he talks about MEAT, its composition, and how it reacts, in general, to heat, and what the variations are from chicken to pork to veal to beef to lamb. From these, we can see the similarities between, for example, barbecue and braising. This is what science is all about. Explaining individual facts without an underlying theory becomes nothing more than description. Alton Brown uses the theory to explain the facts. Russ Parsons talks about the theory, with facts as examples of how the theory works.

What so frustrates me about the clarity with which Parsons writes is that in spite of this, TV food show hosts continue to perpetuate myths about cooking like the one about searing meat is done to `seal in the juices'. Both Parsons and McGee have refuted this statement, yet some Food Network hosts make that statement over and over. I think all people who make their living by writing or speaking about food should be required to take a good chemistry course, followed by a food science course before they are let loose with word processor or microphone. But I digress.

Parsons' book is composed of six essays, each on some basic aspect of food composition or behavior. These chapters are:

How to read a French fry: Frying and the chemical and physical properties of frying oils.
The second life of plants: Changes to fruits and vegetables after harvest and cooking.
Miracle in a shell: Eggs and their amazing emulsifying properties.
From a pebble to a pillow: Starches from rice, beans, flour, potatoes and their ability to thicken.
Meat and heat: The Maillard principle, collagen, fats, and what it is that gives meat its flavor.
Fat, flour, and fear: Pie crusts, butter or lard, and gluten formation.

Each essay is longer or much longer than a typical newspaper column. It is also a level of writing that rarely sees the food pages of my local newspaper. I suspect most of the articles were serialized over several issues. These essays alone make the book worthwhile. Parsons goes on to give practical cooking tips. All these tips should now be fully understandable and therefore eminently easy to remember once the cook has read the essay on which they are based. A favorite for me is the recommendation to thicken sauces with flour rather than with cornstarch or arrowroot. If one is exposed to a little Chinese cooking, cornstarch acquires a great attraction and is seemingly easier to use than flour. What experienced chefs know, but never say, is that flour is a much more stable thickener and will stand up to reheating much better than other starches. For those of us who dote on `Molto Mario' and `Good Eats', many of the hints, especially for pasta, will seem obvious, but then not everyone mainlines the Food Network six hours a day.

Parsons caps each essay with a collection of recipes appropriate to the lessons in the essay. Most of the recipes are old standards that the foodies among us have seen often before, such as snickerdoodles, macaroni and cheese, pot roast, and ratatouille. This means that anyone with a cookbook collection of any size may not find very much new in these pages, except as concrete examples of the science presented in the essays. I will say the recipes I examined are highly respectable and should produce excellent results. The author does provide a complete table of all recipes by principle ingredient (fish) or course (dessert). I think this should be a feature of every cookbook. It is doubly useful when ingredient or course does not organize the book.

My only regret about this book is that it is so short and that so few people will be attracted to reading it. We need food science to replace the extensive drilling in cooking techniques that we used to get at our mothers or grandmother's side. That has disappeared, and it wasn't all that great to begin with.

With sincere apologies to Alton Brown, who gives me more laughs in one `Good Eats' episode than Parsons has in this whole book, I highly recommend this to anyone and everyone who likes to read about food.