A handy trick I’ve learned from the old man is to make an overnight stop in Paris at the start of my tasting trips. It’s a way to refuel after the grueling eleven-hour flight from SFO, allowing for a night of recovery before long days of nonstop wine tasting and endless hours behind the wheel of a rental car. The added bonus is an opportunity to enjoy an evening in the City of Light, exploring its exciting dining scene for my own pleasure and, of course, the chance of discovering a new wine to share with all of you back across the pond.
     Believe it or not, it can be hard to find a great place to eat and drink in what might be the gastronomical capital of the world. Tourist traps abound, and many of the hip locals’ spots I’ve sought out for simple, ingredient-driven cuisine deceive in their wine offerings. The same collection of “natural wines” seems to be on repeat in many such establishments, showcasing cloudy glasses emanating funky aromas yet little sense of place or identity—surely not what the progenitors of natural wine had in mind.
     My quest for real terroir and character led me before a colorful tile tabletop in the cozy, warmly lit dining room of Le Tagine, down the small rue de Crussol in the bustling 11th arrondissement. The place came highly recommended by Jean Foillard, so I at least knew I could count on getting a good glass of wine. The list is concise, and Foillard’s irresistible Morgon is a staple, as are Loire quaffers from Catherine and Pierre Breton.
     The friendly French-Moroccan proprietor changes the menu seasonally, and takes great care in sourcing the best ingredients from artisans across France. Her classic menu features an assortment of sizzling-hot tagines and ethereal couscous dishes, with other offerings such as the pigeon pastilla, its flaky pastry crust dusted with cinnamon and powdered sugar, well worth filling up on. Don’t miss the delicate chicken tagine with olives and preserved lemon, or if you’re feeling hungry, go for the falling-off-the-bone leg of suckling lamb, served with tender vegetables in a fragrant broth made to pour over some of the fluffiest couscous you’ll ever taste. To pair, I ordered the Patrimonio “Morta Maio” from the Arena family in Corsica, a red whose earthy Mediterranean nuances tangoed enticingly with the north African spices on my plate.
     Remember to generously spoon the bright, tangy house-made harissa over everything you order. You might even buy a jar to bring back home, but be sure to keep it cool, just as you would with a fine wine. You wouldn't want it fermenting in your luggage and exploding like a spicy pet-nat all over your clothes . . . not that I would know anything about this.