Via Goodreads First Reads:
I'll confess to a fondness for books of a culinary bent, especially when they're presented as a journey or a quest. So yes, Fromartz's book is, by default, up my alley. But it's the overall strength and coherency of the telling of his journey that makes this book enjoyable.
Now, do not expect a cookbook. Yes, it has recipes, but they are rather few, and they anticipate some measure of breadmaking experience on the part of the reader. If, like me, you are not a veteran home baker, you might be better served finding recipes more catered to neophytes. Or, you can dive in, and hope for the best. But, at the least, I have to recommend getting further guidance from the internet to make sure you stay on the right path. And conveniently, Sam has included a couple handy websites to help you on your adventure.
Sam's prose displays a charming mix of ego and humility, and when he waxes poetic on the odd occasion, he does so with a grounding in the same earth that produces the grains with which he makes his breads. But the real stars of his books are the bakers and farmers and millers and merchants who populate the pages. He visited artisans in America, France, and Germany in his pursuit for "connaissance de pain," and in doing so met up with people who not only share his passion for bread, but also for sharing what they know.
This book will not make you a great bread baker. What it will do is put you in touch with a side of baking that too many of us take for granted. You'll understand what the grains are, where they come from, how they're milled, how they react to fermentation and baking, and why they make such a diverse galaxy of breads. You'll pick up tips, perhaps, and some ideas, and if you really do enjoy bread, some motivation as well. Sam makes his passion contagious, and chances are, if you're reading his book, you'll be infected as well.
There are times I felt myself becoming just a bit glassy-eyed during extended explanations about autolysis or exopolysaccharides, but overall, you come away with knowledge you didn't have before, and that's always a positive.
But the book has made me aware of a complaint I hadn't realized I have. It seems that my area, South Jersey, is disturbingly devoid of genuinely artisanal bread bakers. So those flavors he's left me craving just aren't to be savored. But then, perhaps I should think about following Sam's example and satisfying those cravings myself.