Anyone in Paris with an internet connection and a love for dining out knows and follows Paris By Mouth, a collaborative food website edited by renowned food writers, yet little is known about its founder, Meg Zimbeck.
What brought her to Paris seven years ago was not, however, the food scene but rather a job managing a European public policy research project. She quickly found herself immersed in travel and acutely aware of the extraordinary foods around her, unlike anything she had tasted in the States. Her culinary curiosity motivated her to compile a database of restaurants and shops which eventually became the skeleton for PBM which she developed with the help of fellow foodie Barbra Austin. Almost two years later, the site continues to be at the forefront of all Paris food news and regularly features reviews by Dorie Greenspan, Alexander Lobrano, Clotilde Dusoulier, Patricia Wells among other experienced hands.
Today, this erudite foodie, writer and docent brings us some of her favorite spots in Paris and reveals Paris By Mouth’s latest hot new project. It’s an honor to introduce you to Meg!
Describe what you love about France in three words.
Bread, wine and cheese, the so-called “Trinity of the French Table.” These are the three things that I would miss terribly if I ever left France. Here in Paris, one can find incredible baguette, cheese and wine (pastry, too) for not much money. It continues to blow my mind that I can buy a fermier cheese for a few euros, an incredible baguette for just over €1, and an good bottle from a trusted wine shop for less than €10. Back in the States, these are luxury items not available to the masses. In France, they’re still priced for everyone to enjoy. One can’t say the same about French restaurants in Paris, where one generally has to spend €30 in order to understand the fuss.
Favorite spot for a bite of traditional French fare in Paris?
I still, after seven years, carry a torch for Le Bistrot Paul Bert. From the slightly cracked and peeling decor to the chalkboard menu to the brusque service, it just feels to me like a Paris bistro (for bobos) is supposed to feel. The cooking is lusty and generous, and the wine list never fails to deliver something good. Less well-known is Chez Casimir, the sister restaurant to Chez Michel. They use the same kitchen and same ingredients as the more famous restaurant next door, but charge €20 less per person. The cheese plate is a killer, for those who are interested in fromage.
For visitors with limited time, what shouldn’t be missed and what should be skipped in the capital?
I’ll focus here on dining, and say (with great sadness) that the Paris brasserie no longer holds any appeal. I’ll gladly retract that statement if anyone can show me a brasserie that isn’t a corporate-owned tourist trap. The restaurants that we’ve selected as Editors’ Picks are a much better bet, but the vast majority require a reservation.
Food minded visitors with limited time should book their tables in advance (asking their hotel concierge for help, if necessary) and save the spontaneity for afternoon strolling. There’s nothing more depressing than prowling hungry in the streets and ending up in a soulless dive that serves microwave meals to tourists. For those who want a concentrated dose of delicious, we offer tasting tours through some of the city’s most gastronomically gifted neighborhoods. In a three hour session, visitors can quickly gain a sense of why the food is so very special in Paris. That, and maybe a pound or two…
Best reason to brave the cold and visit France in the winter?
Fewer visitors = less competition for restaurant reservations! One still needs to reserve, but it’s a lot easier to book Frenchie in February than in June. The airfare and hotels are also cheaper during this time, leaving more money for essential items (see question #1).
Most amusing encounter with the French?
I arrived in France speaking very little French, so there were many mistakes with the language. Perhaps the most amusing took place at a bicycle shop, where I was trying to buy a bell. The young man at the counter was helping other customers to assemble their purchased items. I was hoping that he could put the bell on my bike. So I said “bonjour, “c’est possible de me monter?” Eyes around me widened, jaws dropped, and the man responded “you’re not shy.” What I should have asked, had I known anything about direct object pronouns was “c’est possible de la monter pour moi?” What I did ask was if he could mount me.
