Usually I make a few recipes from a book before posting my notes. For reasons I'll get into below, I didn't to that this time.
Let's revisit my criteria for cookbooks:
1. Is the book formatted for practical use?
2. Is it accurate. By that, I mean information accurate as well as free of errata and typos.
3. Will I ever cook from it?
I have other criteria. I like to be inspired by the recipe selection, learn something new, be able to find the ingredients without taking out a second mortgage or resorting to overnight delivery. I prefer an author tone that is personable without sounding like they need a therapist or are the only person with the recipe for ice. Those three points listed above, however, are critical. If it doesn't meet those basic three, there's little chance of me giving it more three stars.
Since I read the e-book version of The Bread Bible, I can't speak to the formatting of the print book. Usually RLB's cookbooks use a clear, larger font and eye-friendly contrast choices. The e-book version, however, is an utter navigation s--- sandwich. The index is literally just a list without the first hyperlink back to the content. (Nor are there page numbers, although those are useless in e-books anyway.) There is no recipe index, nor are the recipes listed under the chapters or at the beginning of chapters. In other words, good luck locating anything in this book a second time. You could try using the Kindle (or other reader) search box, but only if you remember the exact name of the recipe and still want to spend a lot of time tapping through pages. Given there are plenty of links within recipes that lead back to illustrations or sub-recipes, not including a fully navigable recipe index is just plain unforgivable. It's sloppy, it's lazy, and whoever proofed the galleys and didn't insist on a functional index should be busted back to junior intern. It is the equivalent of not putting page numbers in a print book.
The book includes some good photos, but the are inexplicably relegated to the back of the e-book. Why wouldn't they be with their respective recipes? At the very least, put them near the front of the book where they could generate interest in the recipe.
RLB's recipes tend to go on for pages because of her exhaustive attention to every detail and inclusion of multiple methods within each recipe (hand, machine, etc). The ingredients lists are organized on a table grid that includes both weight and volume. Yes, it's cluttered, but it's also baking gold. Baking by weight is the professional way to bake, but including volume measurements acknowledges that many home cooks prefer to stick with volume measurements. Putting so much text in a grid forces the e-reader app to keep column alignment even if it breaks the table horizontally. The tables are probably the best way to handle that much content. I did spot a couple of typos and minor formatting errors, but nothing major caught my eye.
So, on to the big one: will I eve cook from it? Probably not. Something about the tone in this book irked me in a way that RLB' previous books didn't. Yes, she name-drops continually. Yes, she aggressively practices product placement. (She probably makes more from product placement from makers of Silpat, La Cloche, and Silpat than from book royalties.) Yes, she self-congratulates a lot. Having read three of her other books, I'm used to that and can usually ignore it. Those three other books might just be my problem with this one: the "bible" approach, that of there being one highly regimented and micro-managed way of cooking, has worn thin. I've been accused of being the most process-driven person ever by several people; these "bible" type cookbooks make me look like a kitchen anarchist. The main reason i didn't cook anything from this book was because I got bored with all the preaching. Rather than feeling intrigued and inspired to go cook, I found myself resenting the idea that this level of obsessiveness is required to get good bread. There was also the contributing factor that I forgot to bookmark the two recipes I did think about trying, and after ten minutes of tapping to try to find them again, I said, "F*** it. I'm done with this."
While it's true that baking requires more precision and attention to detail than most other forms of cooking, I think we can all agree that people have been making breads successfully for a hell of a long time without freaking out if a ration was off by .1%. and without Silpats or Cuisinart anything. If I'm baking professionally and turning out dozens of loaves, yeah, I'll obsess over that .01% and fret over the protein content of flours. For one or two loaves, forget it. I enjoy baking, and I intend to keep enjoying it. This kind of obsessive approach could suck the joy out of Christmas.
This is not to say I didn't learn anything from reading the book. I did pick up some pointers on shaping and resting dough. The simple line illustrations are excellent, some of the best I've seen. The photos of dough in various stages of fermentation or rising are better than pages of text...if only the damn things weren't buried in the back of the book. There are some lovely sounding recipes in the book, the names of which I can't remember right now and am unwilling to tap through hundreds of pages to find.
The book is worth reading, but I just don't see myself ever cooking from it. And I can't rate it any higher here because the functionality is so lacking and because I simply no longer enjoy or admire such a rigorously specific approach to cooking. Baking well in a home kitchen simply does not demand that level of rigor nor an arsenal of equipment.
A cookbook can have the best of information, but if it is not navigable and doesn't inspire one to get into the kitchen, it will not be used.