Brief summary: A useful work with a lot of information, both theoretical and practical, but very annoying in other ways.
Detailed review:
Sandor Katz's "The Art of Fermentation" is a detailed survey of food-fermentation techniques from around the world. It begins with a non-technical discussion of the biochemical basis of fermentation, and then systematically looks at applications ranging from fermented veggies (sauerkraut, kimchi, pickles), tonic beverages (ginger ale), fruits and other sugars (wine, cider, mead), milk products (yogurt, cheese, kefir), grains (bread and beer), beans (miso and other soy products) and even potatoes, meats, and fish. Along the way, the book provides recipes, descriptions of techniques used, and cultural background.
I personally found "The Art of Fermentation" to be a useful introduction to the process of food fermentation and a springboard into my own pickling and fermenting activities. In fact, this encouraged me to explore a number of things I probably never would have.
To be candid, however, I have to say that there were many things about the book that I found frustrating/annoying,. These included:
1) The various "banners" (outlined with microbial drawings) throughout the book containing quotations from individuals whose source of expertise is rarely identified—and some of whom appear to be crackpots. For example, a web-search suggests that an individual whose quote is spotlighted on p. 75 is "a gardener, artist, alchemist and mead-maker" who also teaches classes in "Divine Number and Sacred Geometry" at "the Mathemagical School of Art, Design and Natural Phenomena" (of which he is also the founder).
2) The cultural revivalist mantras that are repeated throughout the book, which are, at times mixed with elements of polemic and mysticism. I have a lot of sympathy with traditionalist approaches to food, culture, etc. but some of the stuff here is just plain silly. Fermentation as a form of ancestor worship? As a means to revel in mysteries of the scientifically unknowable? As a means of cultivating "biophilic consciousness"? Puh-leeze...
3) Katz's apaprent love of details that seem intended to gross out the reader. On the hand, sure, it's useful to remind folks that sometimes the outside of a fermented product can develop mold or go bad, while the inside of it remains fine-- but to describe how he once eat perfectly delicious kraut from the bottom of a barrel beneath several slimy and "maggot infested" layers? Or talking about how wine can be made out of the urine of diabetics, because of the high levels of residual sugar in it? Such details seem more like they are intended to shock than inform.
4) A relative lack of research on important subjects on which the author does not have first-hand knowledge. Example: In the chapter on vegetable fermentation, Katz devotes a brief sub-section to "Chinese Pickling". In this, he writes: "China has an incredible array of specific regional styles, of which I know very little." He also asserts that Chinese pickling is of foundational importance in that it influenced so many other pickling styles. But all we really get in terms of info are two quotations from a the one secondary source that Katz has found in English on the subject, followed by , "I wish I knew more and could provide more than a cursory glimpse of the broad, dynamic, and living tradition of Chinese vegetable fermentation." So do I! I mean, fine, so he's not got a lot of first-hand knowledge of Chinese pickling—and he can’t read Chinese-language sources on the subject. Fair enough-- you can't be a hands-on expert on everything. But, from a book whose subtitle proclaims it to be "An In-Depth Exploration of Essential Concepts and Processes from Around the World," I still expect more, especially given the importance he ascribes to Chinese pickling traditions. It seems to me that there options that could have been have been used to research this-- like making a trip to China and explore this first hand, with the aid of an interpreter; or meeting with with Chinese immigrants who may have first hand knowledge of this; or hiring an assistant fluent in the language to survey Chinese-language literature on the subject.
5) Comments by the author that seem to combine errors, odd assumptions, and a lack of knowledge into one. For instance, in a chapter on dairy ferments, he mentions a type of yogurt made in Africa, but then makes the rather curious statement that it’s not technically yogurt because its made with zebu milk, rather than cow’s milk. (He also mentions that he had never previously heard of zebu.) Leaving aside the curious suggestion that something is only yogurt if it’s made with cow’s milk(?!), the fact is that zebu are a type of domestic cattle—something that could have easily been fact-checked with a quick online search.
Now, to be fair, none of these issues, on their own-- or even on the whole-- invalidates the Art of Fermentation's merit as a resource. Nonetheless, their cumulative was to bug the hell out of me.
All that said, the fact remains that, to my knowledge, “The Art of Fermentation,” is still the most comprehensive book on the subject yet published, and may well be for some time to come. I just wish it didn't also come with so many annoying elements.