YOU MIGHT THINK that, in a city whose relations with food and restaurants are not unlike those of Hollywood's with the movies, we would find ourselves awash in food and restaurant writing of the highest order. But if you did think that, it could only mean, sadly, that you haven't been paying attention, for what we are really awash in, food-writing-wise, is a sea of unwriting – dozens and dozens of flavors of mediocrity.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with mediocrity. It is the norm, the standard, you might say. Often it wins awards, which causes one to wonder (one hopes not too uncharitably) about those awards and the people who hand them out. And it does provide a useful backdrop for display of the occasional jewel, such as Stephanie Rosenbaum's new book, Honey: From Flower to Table (Chronicle, $18.95). Rosenbaum, a onetime Bay Guardian food critic, is that rare thing among writers: a natural, someone who channels the language fluidly and gracefully and whose prose is artfully seasoned with imagery and humor even as it conveys a good deal of fascinating and useful information.

I dwell at this length on the actual writing of Honey because it is one of the very few books on a food-related topic I actually sat down and (forcing myself to look beyond the impressive food-porn beauty of the design and production) read from beginning to end, as opposed to the usual glance-through. The historical details are compelling (I did not know that the ancient Romans would preserve in honey the heads of criminals executed throughout the empire so they could be displayed in Rome), and the science writing – the hows, whats, and whys of bees and their cultivation – manages to be accurate and lucid at the same time. A writer can only write that way if she has thoroughly understood her material and possesses, in addition, what amounts to the translator's gift of being able to express technical information in lay terms without distorting it.

So Honey deserves to be bought, read, kept, referred to, just as honey itself deserves attention and use, probably more than it currently gets, as a sweetener, a nourisher, a moistener, a preserver. But there are bound to be those who (having no use for background) page impatiently to the rear, searching for recipes. They too will not be disappointed: whether the mission is to make granola, lip balm, tender bran muffins, or beeswax candles, Honey has the straightforward skinny. You might even say, in fact (if you will excuse the pun you must have known would arrive sooner or later), that it's the be-all and end-all of books about honey.