Three Pounds of Good Eating

Can learning the science behind food preparation help you eat more healthfully?

David Joachim thinks so. And I think he's got a point.

Joachim, co-author with Andrew Schloss of "The Science of Good Food" (Robert Rose, $37.95), didn't set out to write a health-food book. Nor is he the first to write about the science of cooking. That ground's been amply covered by, among others, Harold McGee in his classic "On Food and Cooking" and, more recently, by Food Network phenom Alton Brown, whose program "Good Eats" and accompanying book have turned kitchen physics, chemistry and biology into high entertainment.

Having made a name for himself as a cookbook author, Joachim's goal in this new tome (subtitled "The ultimate reference on how cooking works") is to translate food science into lay terms, making it easily accessible to both the home cook and the professional chef. The result is an A-Z encyclopedia, obsessively cross-referenced and indexed, and so rich in dietary detail and fun facts that -- at 624 pages and more than three pounds -- it's addictive.

To my mind, the pursuit of healthful eating has sometimes steered off course lately. If we're not micromanaging our nutrient intake, counting calories, fat grams and IUs of various vitamins, those of us trying to maintain health-promoting diets are being asked to buy into diets that dictate what foods to eat and when.

Too much focus on specific nutrients takes a lot of fun out of both cooking and eating, and it may prompt us to take supplements and eat packaged foods that boast of being fortified with nutrients that we might just have easily have gotten from the produce, meat/poultry/fish and dairy sections of the grocery.

And while adopting a regimented diet -- even one as highly touted as the Mediterranean diet, with its fruits and vegetables, whole grains and legumes, fish, olive oil and daily glass of wine -- may well be terrific for us, what happens if we happen to stray from those staples? Are we at a loss?

Joachim aims to give us the tools to understand food science, beginning with what happens "when food meets fire," as he puts it, so that we can make informed decisions about what foods to eat and how to prepare them.

The strategy works for me. I occasionally go through a phase of gluttony, eating any old thing I can find in the pantry and feeling disinclined to research recipes, prepare weekly menus or shop for select ingredients. Thankfully, those times are offset by my normal, more measured and much more pleasurable mode, in which I pay careful attention to menu planning, enjoy preparing meals, and share them with my family around the table. During these times I try to emulate my friends who manage to eat well while staying thin precisely because they derive at least as much of their enjoyment of food from crafting meals as from devouring the food they cook.

Joachim's book fosters this approach. A quick skim of the book -- well, there's no skimming it quickly. It's like quicksand: You think you'll dip in and read a single entry, and before you know it, you've been reading for an hour. Each major topic, from acid to wine, is broken down into three sections: "What It Is," "What It Does," and "How It Works."

There are charts ("Common Nuts," featuring uses and nutrition data for more than a dozen varieties), graphs ("Flavor Profile for Strawberry Shortcake") and informative illustrations ("Anatomy of Citrus"). All are peppered with "fast facts" ("The florets of broccoli have about 35 percent more beta carotene than the stalks, and frozen broccoli has about 75 percent of the calcium of fresh broccoli."). Then there are the "science wise" tidbits and scraps of "kitchen wisdom": "When fully cooked, the meat of young poultry may appear red at the bone. The discoloration occurs because hemoglobin seeps from bone marrow through their young, porous bones." I never knew that. And Joachim tops it off with more than 100 recipes drawing on knowledge imparted in the book.

A section explaining how grilling meat can create potentially carcinogenic compounds called PAHs -- polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons -- is neatly paired with ideas for keeping PAHS from forming: Marinate your meat before cooking, keep it away from high flames, and cut away excess fat before grilling.

Want to make gluten-free flour? Check the recipe on page 293.

Occasionally Joachim overdoes it. For instance, I'm not sure I needed the pretty chart explaining the electromagnetic spectrum. For the most part, though, the book's relentless focus on both science and good food amounts to as good a guide as I've seen to figuring food out and finding fun stuff to eat. In Joachim's estimation, "good food" is at once food that's good for you and food that's prepared thoughtfully enough that you can serve it to others, as at a restaurant.

A huge rift has emerged in the world of nutrition between advocates of "whole foods" and "food science" -- a discipline most of us associate with highly processed packaged foods. Joachim helps to bridge that gap, reminding us that even whole foods -- such as fresh fruits and vegetables, grains and beans, meats, cheeses and eggs -- are processed when we add heat to, season, combine or can them. Thumb through his book, and maybe you'll feel a bit less wary of letting scientists in your kitchen after all.

Check out today's online Checkup blog, in which Jennifer reports on emerging research about how kids respond to food-portion sizes. Sign up for our weekly Lean & Fit newsletter by going to http://www.washingtonpost.com and searching for "newsletters." And e-mail your thoughts to Jennifer at checkup@washpost.com.