Craig LaBan's unfair, inappropriate comparisons

I am a fan of the food writing of The Philadelphia Inquirer's gastronomic critic, Craig LaBan, though that may because I don't own a restaurant. His savage negative reviews are legendary; he carpet-bombed a trendoid haven, Trust, right out of existence a few years ago much to the moans of the smug, overly complacent Philadelphia restaurant community more used to coddling than criticism. (For a recent example of a vicious LaBan pan, see: this.)

For the record, his food criticism that I am informed to comment on seems pretty accurate; if he lacks the generosity of spirit and dry wit of Frank Bruni of the New York Times he can be better on details and zeroes in on faults much more precisely.

LaBan's rather more erratic on the subject of drink; his booze clunkers come often enough so you wish the Inky would hire a wine and spirits critic (fat chance of that, given the economics of journalism these days).

His taste in red wine is, frankly, crass and obvious (fruit bombs away!), though he's much more dependable discussing whites and his work on spirits is admirable.

The latest LaBan wine effort that falls short is this. Besides reading like the winemaker paid him for the story, there's this:

"When we entered the tasting room, I saw his wines posed for a test-sip against two of France's most famous bottles."

Oh boy. Trot out the old beat-up-on-the-French gimmick again. Isn't the more obvious comparison to California wines, given the price point? And the New World origin of the wines? Or maybe to New York State?

"When you want to do something good, you can do it anywhere if you have the passion, dedication and knowledge," Razzi said.

No, you can't. You can't make Bordeaux in Pennsylvania. You can make a good red wine in Pennsylvania, but you can't make Bordeaux. Only the Bordelais can do that.

He then proceeded to pour his 2005 Ameritage, a $55 Bordeaux-style red blend, against a Bordeaux legend, a 1998 Chateau Mouton-Rothschild that runs $253 in Pennsylvania. We sipped his 2005 Chardonnay Reserve ($33.50) against a 2003 Corton-Charlemagne from Laboure-Roi (about $100), one of Burgundy's most storied whites.

Where do we start with the problems here? First, it is utterly unfair to poor Signor Razzi to compare his wine to Mouton-Rothschild, one of the world's greatest and most historic wines! Later in the story other wine experts comment that the red wine matches up with lesser Bordeaux wines. Why not use one of those, taking care to match Mr. Razzi's cepage (nebbiolo?) as much as possible - sounds like Cos-Labory, d'Armilhac, or Gloria might work.

And then the unfairness reverses. To have white Burgundy, at its height perhaps the world's most sublime white wine, represented by the wine chosen is ludicrous. First, 2003 was a notoriously hot summer in France (it was the horrible summer that so many elderly people died of heat-related illnesses) and the wine made that year all over France was fat, flabby, baked, completely atypical. And while certain American critics raved about the vintage, one Bordeaux wine maker noted, "We didn't think it was very good. But then (the American critic) raved, so we knew ..." 2003 was probably the weakest white Burgundy vintage of the 21st century so far.

Then to pick a wine from a Laboure-Roi, one of Burgundy's most pedestrian and dull winemakers, one unlikely to deal too well with 2003's special challenges, compounds the problem.

Corton-Charlemagne is unquestionably one of the great vineyards of the Cote d'Or, but a 2003 C-C from Laboure-Roi is simply not going to be anything like a Grand Cru should be. I'd bet many wines would taste as good.

These kind of missteps make me wary of the judgments that follow:

Remarkably, the Penns Woods wines held their own quite well - even if they did not have quite the resonance or complexity of those French classics. The Ameritage, mostly cabernet sauvignon, cabernet franc and merlot (with a splash of nebbiolo), was plush with licorice, cassis and cedar, riper and more balanced than almost any other local red I've tasted. The chardonnay was touched with butterscotch and zesty tangerine, but also braced with a long and flinty, mineral finish. Other Penns Woods wines, such as the lively sauvignon blanc and rich gold pinot grigio, were also impressive.

Rich Pinot Grigio? Well, maybe.

I'd like to try Mr. Razzi's wines, though their pricing, as LaBan notes, is not enticing. (For $50 I can drink good Bordeaux, for $33 Premier Cru Chablis or village Chassagne-Montrachet, Beaune, or Meursault.)

But this kind of wine writing does not help the cause. Comparisons need to be with well-made wines that match the wines being tasted, not just by spending a lot of money on big names. And the comparisons need to be fair.

LaBan would cringe at comparing haute cuisine to a crêperie, but he's made the same kind of mistake here.