LaBan addresses Vetri's screed on food critics

On his online chat of Jan. 27, 2015, Craig LaBan weighed in on an essay written by chef Marc Vetri that decried the state of food journalism. Though not mentioned by name, LaBan was the subject of many of the negative points raised by Vetri.

This is the transcript:

Craig LaBan: Unless you live in an Internet-free cave, you might have heard that Chef Marc Vetri this morning launched a screed Tuesday on the Huffington Post against the world of food writing ("Stale as Day-Old Bread").

I was not entirely surprised. We had a lengthy recent phone conversation last week during which where he aired many of his complaints. Among them: noted towards the top of this story frustrations with contemporary journalism – its "best of" lists, click-baiting "inventory" listicles instead of more in-depth stories, online foodie sites like Zagat, Eater and Yelp, plus social media: "the enemy of relevant food journalism."

(Vetri, by the way, it should be noted, is a masterful and frequent user of social media when it suits his agenda). Otherwise, there's no news there: the digital world has been a mortal challenge to all forms of media, especially old print companies, to remain relevant without compromising content. I'll agree with that – even if I believe we do our best at the Inquirer and Philly.com to get it right.

Vetri seems particularly grumpy, though, on the subject of restaurant ratings, and in particular, my bells – though he also spends a good bit prefacing his thoughts with the assertion that they don't mean much more than a random blog review anymore.

He objects to, among other things, that a hummus counter like Dizengoff (not named in the story, but…) should be counted on the same rating scale as a "full service" restaurant – not to mention get three bells. This, of course, stems from an old instinct, the same one that drove the old chef gripes back in the days 10 years ago when people howled over Django getting four bells – and continuous attempts to discount the importance of BYOBs that is particular to Philly's dining culture.

Somehow, without a wine list, they didn't meet a standard high enough to be dignified of a significant review.

I don't buy it, of course. This is how Philadelphians eat. Our dining world is in drastic flux and evolution – and has been for decades. It's our job to capture that. Any rating system has to reflect what's important to the context of the dining scene it covers. Our readers aren't interested in just the "fine dining venues" (whatever that means, anymore) – they want to taste the whole picture. And so do I.

Honestly, I never expected to give a hummus counter such a high rating (let alone review it at all). But the Dizengoff experience—ethereal small-batch hummus, ever-changing daily toppings, oven-fresh pitas, incredible value for the quality—both surprised me and moved me to a level of enthusiasm that many fancier places last year did not.

Any critic worth their salt needs to be able to acknowledge and embrace those moments publicly in print – even if they are outliers on an imperfect rating system that must constantly reconcile a diverse roster of restaurants.

That excellence can be found inall corners of that diversity is what makes Philadelphia such a rich place to eat. We're not talking about a good McDonald's here, which Vetri's article gratuitously invokes.

Many people agreed with me on Dizengoff (including Vetri, in a way, who acknowledged in our conversation that he was a frequent customer and found it "exceptional.") So in the sense that these ratings are both a genuine personal reaction of mine as well as an accurate reflection of what matters in Philadelphia kitchens in 2014, it fits the standard I aim for.

Reader: Do you think it's unfair, as Vetri does, that restaurants only have to be good for the two months until the review?

C.L.: Well, that speaks to Vetri's other main objection: the process of changing initial ratings after revisits.

I have a long history of going back to restaurants already reviewed, and giving them a second consideration – particularly within the calendar year they were reviewed. It's most often a second chance for underperformers to step up a notch. But occasionally, a place has slipped and no longer lives up to an earlier review and its high rating – which was the case when I headed back to Osteria Jersey in the fall. It was no longer three bells – by a long shot – and felt more like the reality of a place dealing with the struggle of consistency in a suburban setting.

The bells were adjusted down in my best attempt to keep the ratings as current and accurate as possible. A note to me from Vetri shortly after the downgrade acknowledged there were issues they were working to remedy. But in Vetri's Huffington Post tirade, it has become a case of "journalistic bullying" that critics see fit to change a rating after one visit in a "continuing campaign to make the lives of chefs more miserable."

He's got it wrong there, for sure. (And who knew the much-honored Marc Vetri's culinary life was miserable?)

These reviews are written solely for readers, to help them make good decisions on where to spend their dollars – not to stroke or bruise any chef egos along the way. And the high ratings (like 3 bells) are a standard I hope a restaurant lives up to more or less every day – not just during the first two months when they know those critics are paying attention. (Even though we're not relevant, right?) Which is why occasional revisits are important.

They help us prevent the coverage from going stale, and remain as fresh as… a just-baked pita.