The Great Parisian Plate Debate

The only thing I enjoyed more than the fantastic pho at Le Bambou was watching Christian’s utter confusion as he tried to figure out how the hell he was supposed to eat his appetizer. Just to be clear, that’s in no way to the detriment of my giant steaming bowl of beef noodle soup, which was on par with the best I had in Hanoi. Christian is a novice at Vietnamese cuisine, so naturally I offered no helpful hints, preferring to watch him fumble miserably with his paper-thin spring roll wrappers.

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The first time I noticed Le Cambodge, I was meeting friends for pre-dinner drinks near Canal Saint Martin. Off on a side street, I wouldn’t have even noticed it, had there not been a long line winding out the door. Knowing nothing else about the place, I made a mental note to come back to check it out. Amusingly enough, that was where my friends were already planning to take me.

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Normally when there are no tables available on the sidewalk I would expect the staff to roll their eyes, say something in French, and then tell me it will be at least thirty minutes before a table becomes available. Not at Porte Manech! They swiftly hauled a table out from the interior, threw a couple chairs around it, and voila! Instant seating gratification.

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Everybody knows and loves crepes. If you don’t, it means you’ve either never been served a proper one, or you’re not worthy to be reading this self-declared mecca of Parisian gastronomy.

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