The main bulk of the book is an alphabetical listing of practically everything you want to know about food–and a lot more that you probably never realized was part of the food experience. The writers and researchers–Kim Rouney, Lulu Grimes and Kay Halsey–are keenly aware of the globalization of food, so the book covers food from all continents. The concise descriptions include origin and how to prepare and/or eat that particular food and often, a simple recipe accompanies the entry. Best of all, each entry has a picture, which takes a lot of the guesswork out of deciphering strange items.
You will find such broad entries as American food as well as Chinese, French, German, Indian, Japanese, Moroccan, Spanish and other national cuisines. Turkish Delight is not quite what you may think it is: nothing wildly decadent, but a sweetmeat made of boiled syrup and cornflour. There is much to learn about even the most common items like cabbage and tomatoes; the entries on cheese, herbs, potatoes and rice are very helpful basic guides on the different varieties and the nuances of each.
And then there are the exotic things. You may never actually ever get to taste any of them, but who knows? The world is getting smaller everyday. Just a few months ago, who knew–or cared to know–where Jalalabad was?
Here then are a few examples of the more exotic entries: the afore-mentioned abalone is a highly-prized (especially by the Chinese) single-shell mollusk while abiu is a South American fruit; zhug is a spicy relish from Yemen while zuppa Inglese is a cold Italian pudding.
In between you will find a "toad in the hole" (a British sausage dish), Scotch woodcock (anchovy-flavord scrambled eggs on toast), imam bayildi (literally, "the imam or priest fainted", a Turkish dish of stuffed eggplants), flummery (a creamy dessert) and coulibiac (a Russian pie stuffed with salmon, rice, eggs, mushrooms and cream).
You’ll know what to do with haggis, "Scotland’s best known and least eaten delicacy", should you–heaven forbid–come face to face with it. Don’t start a fight over faggots (it’s a harmless sausage made of pork offal–okay, maybe it’s not that harmless!), and the best way to clean up Eton mess is to eat it (it is, after all, just mashed strawberries with cream). We could go on and on, for the almost 500-page book is filled with such perhaps unnecessary but utterly delightful bits of information.
On the functional and practical side of things, the book also has a list of kitchen equipment (again with pictures), kitchen terms plus other cooking information like measurement tables (including metric to imperial conversions), storage, freezing and–read this very carefully–food poisoning.
All in all, FOOD: the definitive guide is a great book to have on hand. Read it though before you start cooking; it’s too large and heavy to handle when you’ve got a poy of boiling stock or a fish about to burn to worry about.