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.

Lunch at Le Bec-Fin: food good, wine off the charts

I was one of the last customers to enjoy a weekday luncheon at Philadelphia’s temple of haute cuisine, as they only serve lunch on Friday and Saturdays now (and just this week chef Georges Perrier announced he was scrapping his prix-fixe-only dinners and will serve a la carte). I still think the $52 lunch menu was a bargain, given that it offered an appetizer, entrée and the fabulous, Lucullan, dessert cart, perhaps the greatest landmark to the sweet meal-ending course ever devised. There are at least 20 choices, you can have as many as you want, and among the classics such as gateau de l’Opera, sorbet de cassis, and floating island, there pop up things such as lemon-basil cake. Get anything with pears.

I have eaten at Le Bec occasionally over the years since 1983, and the food is always never less than terrific, though at times one wonders if it could be a tad less rich and still as good. Perrier’s quenelles of pike in lobster sauce still set the standard for me for seafood and nobody does veal better. His service has had its ups and downs, which it should not given the price (prix-fixe dinner with wine for two was not less than $400 assuming a decent bottle of wine and a tip) but service at a 2007 lunch was near-perfect.

So when I was invited to luncheon by an old friend on his dime, I was of course thrilled. Since both of us needed to be functional afterwards, and we like different foods (he almost always orders a steak) we decided on wine by the glass.

And was I glad I did. Three brilliant wines, each better than the last – I was left staggered at the quality. I would imagine Le Bec’s glassware (Riedel of course) helped a lot.

I wanted a wine aperitif, knowing that: a) Le Bec’s liquor prices are staggering and b) their mixed drinks have always been so-so. So I chose a 2002 Domaine Armand Gilg Grand Cru Moenchberg Riesling from Alsace, and it was just what I wanted: a bouquet bursting out of the glass, pure Riesling fruit, a little petrol-scent, apples and peaches, tons of structure and acidity carrying the fruit, long, scented finish. Talk about whetting the palate! Served perhaps too cold, warmed up nicely. A solid ****. Now-2015.

For my monkfish-and-lobster napoleon first course, the sommelier ravished praise on the 2005 Domaine de la Chapelle Pouilly-Fuisse. And he should have – this was perfection. Easily one of the best white Burgundies I have ever had, even better than some Grand Crus – this blew away a 1998 (I think) Bonneau du Martray Corton-Charlemagne I was unimpressed with once. If I had been served this as a Puligny-Montrachet Premier Cru I’d have been very pleased and it would have trounced most village Pulignys and Chassagne-Montrachets. Pale, aroma rendolent with tropical fruit, toasty nose, spicy, creamy, rich, even a hint of pineapple, crisp, steely finish, a little vanilla there. If there was oak, it was judiciously used. Went on and on. Served just chilled enough. As I said, if this had been a Cote d’Or Burgundy, I’d have been thrilled, but this kind of splendor from the Maconnais, even from Pouilly? Who could have expected that? I didn’t want to finish it because then it would be gone. I kept the glass to savor the aroma. Easily a top-5 Chardonnay-based wine. This just shows how good the 2005 vintage was in France and especially Burgundy – as I said if the Pouillys are like this, what must the Pulignys be like (or the Montrachet and its hyphenated Grand Crus)? I can’t imagine. ****1/2. Now-2012.

Couldn't get better? Well, came pretty close. With my perfectly-done duck breast in a rich demiglace came a glass of 2000 Domaine de Courcel Pommard “Les Fremiers” Premier Cru. Here’s an example of fine winemaking in an iffy vintage; 2000 was not an easy year in the Cote de Beaune and the pinot noir can be temperamental even in a fine year. But Courcel, a family concern with four centuries of winemaking in Pommard under its belt, has few peers in Pommard; they do not destalk and try to get the most out of every grape. They conquered the elements to produce this earthy, fragrant, cassis-soaked wine which had a beguiling, soft, earthy, nose; sweet cassis and cherry on the palate, tangy, a hint of vanilla and coffee, but still tannic at the end, oak helps the structure, more cassis on the elegant finish, which never seemed to end. A mouthful of this was like having a succession of small flavor-filled fireworks going off on the tongue, one following the other in harmonic excitement. As I said, heavenly with the duck. Would have been spectacular with veal or even a well-roasted capon. At its peak, I’d say, but the tannins may last. Now-2010. ****1/2.

No wine with dessert, which included a pear tart, pistachio ice cream and macerated cherries. Finished with a lovely Cognac, I did not catch the label, smooth and well-balanced.

Let's do lunch again, eh?