Every so often someone asks me why I write so often and in such glowing terms about Paris. The answer is simple enough, for like journalist A.J. Liebling who also lived in Paris for many years, "if I compared my life to a cake, the sojourns in Paris would represent the chocolate filling and everything else would be plain English cake". Another reason that I love Paris so much is that it remains the best city in the world in which one can fully enjoy the richness and variety of French food without having to spend a fortune. It is true that by going to restaurants such as Lucas Carton, Alain Ducasse or Guy Savoy one can easily part with 2,500 francs for a dinner for two, but on a recent visit, for reasons known primarily to my bank manager, I had decided that being moderate in the amount of cash I parted with would be good for my soul.

I had started this particular day at four thirty in the morning by making my way from my hotel to the bank of the river in the shadow of the Pont Neuf, there to take my place alongside a host of other hopeful fishermen, all of whom had come out in the hope of catching a few of the fish that make the river their home. It should be understood that the people who fish in the Seine, are among the world's greatest optimists, for the small but extraordinarily tasty gudgeons that were once so abundant in the river Seine are rarely found these days and the other fish that live in the river are barely worth eating. Whether one actually catches fish or not is unimportant, however, for it is really the quiet pleasures of the morning hours and the company of the strangers that are your companions that draw one to the river. On the morning of my expedition, despite the laws of probability, one man actually succeeded in catching gudgeon after gudgeon, and when asked the secret of his success, he confided that in addition to having prayed to Saint Peter that morning, he had made his bait by mashing brie cheese together with just a bit of good Champagne". Whether Saint Peter had decided to help him or whether the fish had an acquired taste for brie and champagne is not known.

A few minutes later, standing on the Pont Neuf (which, despite its name is actually the oldest bridge in the city), I was distracted by the appearance of one of the city's early- rising clochards. Unshaven, unsteady on his feet and in a ragged brown coat six sizes too large, he made his way to the middle of the bridge, paused and started to climb up on the rail. I thought that he might be contemplating suicide, but he glanced at me, crossed over and very politely asked if I could spare a few francs. I made my "contribution" and, as a sign of his gratitude I received a drink from the bottle of marc that he had in one of his many coat pockets. The remarkably coarse brandy burned going down, but it put warmth back into my cheeks. It also gave me an appetite, so I turned to the Left Bank to seek out an early breakfast.

On the corner of Rue de la Huchette and Rue de la Harpe in the Latin Quarter I stoped at "Au Gargantua", one of Paris' best bread bakeries, there to purchased four miraculously flaky croissants au beurre and with these made my way to "La Favourite", the small, noisy, not at all fashionable cafe where Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir sat before they could afford Cafe de Flore. My croissants and three large cups of black, aromatic espresso coffee restored me so much that even though it was barely 6 in the morning I decided to take up the challenge of my waiter and tried my hand at the pinball machine. One has to understand that Parisians have had a blind passion about these machines ever since they were introduced by the Americans after the Second World War. My waiter was a master of the art, and after I lost six consecutive games, each of which cost me the price of a glass of white wine, I made my way back to my hotel for what I considered a well-earned nap.

At lunchtime, deciding to continue in the footsteps of Sartre, I hailed a taxi and made my way to the Brasserie de l'Ecole Militarie on Avenue Duquense, there as he often did, to enjoy a luncheon feast of oysters. Even oysters can be reasonably priced in Paris ... it all depends on whether you know where to eat them. Tuxedoed waiters, a table comfortably set in the open air, and eighteen oysters (Belons, Marennes and Portugeses) put me in fine spirits. Set off with lemon, light shallot vinegar, small dishes of finely chopped onion and garlic, a heaping pot of superb Normandy butter and a bottle of well chilled white Muscadet wine, the oysters were just right. I might have eaten more but hesitated when I thought of the Duc de Luynes, a man who considered himself a gourmet because he restricted himself to eating 60 oysters at a single meal.

After lunch, as I strolled on the Boulevard Raspail, I came across one of the last pissoirs in the city. Known formally as "vespasiennes", in honor of the Roman emperor who was the first to charge admission to public toilets, the trick in using such toilets is to stand as far outside the cabin as possible before pulling the chain and then beating a rapid retreat to avoid the cascade of water that then sweeps over the floor of the entire cabinet. It has been said that author Jean Genet detested Paris primarily because he could never emerge from a pissoir without having had the cuffs of his trousers soaked through.

While still in the area of Montparnasse I made another happy find, this one a hangover from the Roman days when Paris was known as Lutetia - a flea circus. The basic form of such circuses, favored pastimes of such diverse notables as Marie Antoinette, Charles de Gaulle and Roland Barthes, has changed little over the years. Max Brunet, the leading impressario of Parisian fleas, told me that "there is no greater miracle than that of seeing a team of twelve fleas harnessed together and pulling a coach that weighs sixteen thousand times their combined weight."

After paying the admission fee, a modest four francs, I saw a flea named Napoleon scale a miniature version of the Eiffel Tower. A pair of fleas named Louis and Marie operated a guillotine that decapitated a radish. A parade of fleas wound their way around a large pretzel shaped roll, each flea carrying a flag and marching to the strains of Wagner's "The Cry of the Valkeries". And then I saw an albino flea called Pompidou who attempted to walk a tight-rope while balancing a pole in his back. Somewhere in mid-rope, Pompidou lost his balance.

After refreshing myself at my hotel, I made my way to dinner at Laperouse, one of the few restaurants that still acknowledges the connection between love and gastronomy. Laperouse is the only restaurant in all of Paris that still boasts small private rooms in which one can eat and satisfy whatever other appetites one has. In these rooms, one can always hear the discreet warning cough of the waiters as they near your private dining room which, in addition to having a table luxuriously set two, is also furnished with a couch. On the mirrors one can still see the entwined hearts, the dates and the exclamation points that were cut with by lovers with their diamonds, much as a schoolboy might have used his penknife on the trunk of a tree. Whatever, because I was alone, I took a table in the main dining room, where I was delighted by Chef Gabriel Biscay's veal and chicken pate with fennel, ragout of fresh pasta with fois gras and duckling with green peppercorns and a Calvados mousse. I was in the mood for a wine from the Beaujolais region, and a bottle of full-bodied Julienas went marvelously with my meal.

After dinner I decided that a night time visit to the Eiffel tower was in order. Ever since it was designed and built by Gustave Eiffel in the 1880s, Parisians have had an ongoing love-hate relationship with this structure. Author Guy de Maupassant for example, so hated the tower that he often had lunch at the restaurant on the second level of the tower. It was not so much that he liked the food here as that it was "the only place in Paris where I don't have to see this damned tower". It is true that it is almost impossible not to see the Eiffel tower. On rainy, sunny or even snowy days, as you turn nearly any corner in the city, there it is, 330 meters tall, an inescapable part of the daily life of the city. Even in the dark of night, the two red lights on the very top of the tower come on, winking gently as they revolve all through the night, never quite letting you forget that the tower is waiting for you to wake up and see it once again.

Personally, I have always liked the tower and have none of the ambivalence of the Parisians towards it. Thus, on this visit, as on every other one I have made over the years, I fulfilled the two rituals that make me feel at home here. First, while still at the foot of the tower, I purchased a red helium filled balloon, and then took the elevator to the topmost level where, after enjoying the view of Paris, I released the balloon and spent nearly fifteen minutes watching it vanish in the sky. To fulfill my second ritual, I walked down 480 steps to the middle level of the tower, entered the restaurant there to have a coffee and two chocolate eclairs. My rituals happily concluded, I took the elevator and returned to earth.

Late night found me at a bordello, to which I had come not as a client but to visit an old friend. Le Chat Noir sits not far from the Palais de Justice, and here we were greeted by Juliette, the proprietress and hostess. Years before, when she was located on the not quite so fashionable Rue Serpente, I had lived in the sixth floor, cold-water flat of what was then Juliette's five story bordello, so she and I went back a long way. Juliette would be insulted if she was referred to as a "madam" and angered if her estblishment was called a "whore-house." Always dressed conservatively, she is invariably found with a large assortment of keys fastened to her belt. In addition to serving as a sign of office, the keys belong to the rooms, bar, liquor cabinets, kitchen and wine cellar.

Guests came and were greeted politely and formally, ushered into the small but pleasant reception parlor where the girls were waiting or, if requested earlier, a specific girl was waiting. In accordance with tradition, whatever food or drink that was served while clients lingered in the reception area, was on the house. Once a client and his chosen lady of the moment had gone off to one of the rooms, however, Juliette kept track of everything that went on. Whether a client had enjoyed "a little moment", a half- hour, or a full evening, prices were adjusted appropriately. As to what had to be paid for, once retired to a private room, absolutely everything was taken into account on the bill: wine, drinks, food, toothbrushes, disposable razors, aftershave lotion. Everything was available, but everything had a price tag.

It was a quiet evening, so Juliette, Marie and I spent several hours quietly chatting, reminiscing, munching on Beluga caviar and sipping wonderfully chilled Veuve-Clicquot vintage Champagne until nearly three in the morning.

When I finally awoke, it was nearly noon and I had an absolutely ravishing appetite. By now my traveler's cheques and my cash were running out, so I decided, as I had done so often in the past, to have, to paraphrase Hemingway, a moveable feast. Since the 10th century, when it became legal for the residents of Paris to cook and sell food from small carts or stands on the street, it has always been easy to feast virtually for pennies without ever entering a restaurant.

My feast started at a small stand on the market street of Rue de Buci in the Latin Quarter where a spicy sausage baked in a pastry shell and an order of chips that came with a spicy mayonnaise sauce went well with an ice cold beer drunk straight from the bottle. From there, it was only a short stroll to Boulevard St. Michel where the thing that tempted me most was a croque monsieur, one of those marvelous, puffy and rich grilled cheese sandwiches that have been the main staple of Parisian students for more than 400 years. After this, I needed a sweet, so made my way to Rue du Chat Qui Peche where I managed to down a half dozen beignets, miniature deep fried doughnuts so good they can make you cry for joy and then to the corner where Boulevard St. Michel meets the river, there to continue my outdoor feast with crepes - one with chocolate sauce, one with Grand Marnier sauce, and one with raspberry sauce.

Dining Well and Inexpensively

To tell the truth, I adore meals at great restaurants but I am also the first to admit that they are not indispensable to dining well. Very few of us can afford such meals on a regular basis and, if the truth be told, no one with any sense of discrimination whatever would want to dine exclusively on great meals. I imagine, for example, that after only three days in a row of eating in three star restaurants that I would begin to long passionately for nothing more complex than a fresh baguette, several slices of good ham and a generous dab of Dijon mustard.

Despite rumors to the contrary, most of which were probably started by English, American and German tourists who have never truly understood the city, it has always been possible to eat well in Paris without spending a fortune. There are, however, certain things one should know in order to dine at reasonable prices in Paris. First of all, nearly all restaurants, no matter how expensive or prestigious they are, are less expensive at lunchtime than at dinner. This does not mean that they serve inferior food at lunchtime. It does mean, however, that because lunch is rarely as ceremonial or as drawn out as dinner, they can offer one or more reasonably priced menus a prix fixe, fixed price menus that include an hors d'oeuvre, main course with vegetables and dessert. Some of these menus also include either a soup course or a cheese tray before dessert. Although the variety of dishes available on such menus is more limited than one will find on the a la carte menu, the quality of what is served remains unchanged.

One should note that even though many restaurants also offer a fixed priced menu for dinner, many of the more prestigious (and thus most expensive) restaurants do not have this policy. When they are offered, however, they should definitely be considered. The saving offered means, among other things, that those on a budget who want the experience of dining at a three star restaurant will find that the afternoon hours are definitely the time for such pleasures. More important is that it in general it also means that by having one's main meal in the afternoons will cost 20 - 50% less than ordering a la carte.

Another option worth considering is the "menu of degustation", literally a tasting menu that has two advantages. In addition to offering chefs a chance to show off their talents by serving small portions of many of their specialties at the same time, such meals allow clients to sample broadly of the charms of a restaurant without having to return for five or six different meals. Although such meals are never as inexpensive as those offered on fixed price menus, the overall savings they offer is substantial.

The following list includes several of my favorite restaurants in Paris. Some are well known, others are relatively obscure but at all one can dine marvelously for under 200 Francs.

Au Pied de Cochon: 6 rue Coquilliere, Paris 1. This ancient establishment is the heart of nostalgia for many. Its etchings of the old Les Halles, its warmth and its generally relaxed atmosphere make it always worth visiting. For best value for money, dine on the grilled meats Saint-Antoine, the beef steaks, the andouilettes and the choucroute garni. This is one of the few establishments in the city that is open 24 hours every day.

Willi's Wine Bar: 12 rue des Petits-Champs, Paris 1. This is a fun place with a crowd that varies from penniless students to the very very rich. Most people come here to sample the many wines that are available every day but nearly all will sooner or later try Willi's grilled and fried fish that are served with red pepper sauce and capers. Consider especially trying the sturdy white Chateauneuf-du-Pape wine.

Gerard: 4 rue du Mail, Paris 2. This basic local bistro is a favorite among journalists (especially those from Le Figaro), and people in the world of fashion. Among my favorite dishes here are the green salad with bacon, the cold beef salad, the hot sausages, the pot-au-feu and the calve's liver with vinegar.

Ambassade d'Auvergne: 22 rue de Grenier-Saint-Lazare, Paris 3. Lots of wood, especially the heavy wood beams, a large fireplace and the overall rusting setting are clues that the food here is going to be representative of the country-style cuisine from Auvergne. The cured and smoked meats here are all exceptionally good but the very best dishes offered are the mountain ham, the stuffed cabbage and the smoked trout. Skip the hors d'oeuvres and after your main course be sure to try one of the interesting desserts. Also be sure to ask about the house wine from Auvergne.

Chez Jenny: 30 Blvd. du Temple, Paris 3. The woodwork in this traditional brasserie will delight you as will the very special country style choucroute garni which is one of the best you will find in France. Also be sure to try the grilled sausages that go so well with ice cold pitchers of Alsacian beer that are served. Ask about the Alsatian wines that are available, often at amazingly low prices.

Auberge de Jarente: 7 rue de Jarente, Paris 4. The specialty here is Basque food and the fish soup, goose with garlic and potatoes and scallops in rose wine sauce are all worth trying. Don't miss the chance to taste the Cahors, Cote de Buzet and other regional wines that are offered.

Bonfinger: 5 rue de la Bastille, Paris 4. Originally established in 1864 and for many years known as one of Paris' finest restaurants, Bonfinger fell in quality and status nearly twenty five years ago. Several years ago the restaurant was completely remodelled and the cuisine rejuvenated. A brasserie of the belle epoque, the restaurant now features gilted mirrors, leather seats and a motif of flower and fruits that will charm nearly everyone. One can spend a great deal of money here but, by dining on the cassoulet of beans with mutton, the fish pot-au-feu or the duck in raspberry sauce one can eat well and reasonably.

Brasserie de l'Ile Saint-Louis: 55 quai de Bourbon, Paris 4. Like the ambiance, the food here is Alsatian and charming. The onion tart here is one of the best you will find anywhere and the choucroute garni is excellent. Also try the lettuce salad with shrimp and the smoked ham with cabbage. For dessert, the plum tarte is unbeatable.

Auberge des Deux Signes: 46 rue Galande, Paris 5. This very attractive inn, facing the gardens of the church of Saint-Julien- le-Pauvre and with a view of Notre Dame Cathedral features the cuisine of Auvergne. In addition to classic dishes such as mushroom tart, pigeons with peas and fresh herbs, and rabbit stew, be sure to try the house specialty, fish mousse with lobster puree.

Allard: 41 Rue Saint-Andre-des-Arts. Paris 6. This is a truly great bistro, one of the few remaining institutions with sawdust covered floors. I have dined here often and highly recommend the cassoulet, veal stew, leg of lamb, coq au vin, navarin printanier beef with carrots and duck with turnips. For dessert try the magnificent chocolate charlotte.

La Chope d'Alsace: 4 Carrefour de l'Odeon, Paris 6. Lots of wood, an abundance of folkloric bricabrac and the remarkably low prices are only three of the things that make this busy establishment worth visiting. Best of all, the food here is always fun and, whether one comes to dine on oysters or onion tarte one will always be satisfied. There are six kinds of choucroute garni offered, all of which are worth trying. Try as well the good and reasonably priced wines from Alsace.

Lipp: 151 Blvd. Saint-German, Paris 6. Open since 1920, this was the brasserie that Ernest Hemingway adored. Some items on the menu are expensive but others are very reasonable. My own favorite pastime here is to order the meal that Hemingway made famous: cold potatoes in garlic and oil, cervelat sausages and beer. Also special are the baltic herring, blanquette of veal, beef a la mode, cassoulet and choucroute garni.

Le Petit Zinc 22 rue Guillaume Apollinaire, Paris 6. This traditional brasserie which was situated for many years on Rue du Buci moved not that long ago but the move did not hurt the quality of their cuisine at all. The sausages in pastry, sauerkraut with fish, homemade preserved duck and choucroute garni are all worth trying.

Le Procope: 13 rue de l'Ancienne-Comedie, Paris 6. Founded in 1686 by Italian ice cream maker Francesco Procopia, this is the world's oldest operating cafe. If you take a table on the second floor you may be sitting at the same tables where Diderot, Voltaire, Rouseau, Napoleon Bonaparte, George Sand, Benjamin Franklin, Carl Marx or Robespierre once sat. Perhaps more for nostalgia than the quiality of the cuisine but especially worth trying are the duck with pasta and veal with lentils. My personal favorite here is a meal that starts off with escragots bourguignonne, continues with steak au poivre and concludes with a cherry tarte. The house red and white wines are both excellent.

Brasserie Flo: 7 cours de Petites-Ecuries, Paris 10. Some call this 1900s establishment the "mother of all brasseries" and its faithful and fashionable clientele comes to this lovely place for its charm and its well known good value for money. The choucroute garni, the fresh foie gras, the salmon with sorrel and the pot-au-feu are all superb here. Be sure to order the house wine by the pitcher.

Julien: 16 blvd. du Faubourg-Saint-Denis. Whether one calls this unusual establishment a brasserie or a restaurant is unimportant because the 1890s decor, the pop art and the overall high quality of the food always draws a nice crowd. Try especially the goose cassoulet, the terrine of turbot and the calve's liver with black currant vinegar. Order your wine by the carafe.

Chez Albert: 122 ave. du Maine, Paris 14. This is a particularly pleasant bistro and the dishes most worthy of our consideration are the scallops with port wine, the foie gras with red wine, the shrimps with herbs, the grilled stuffed quail and the roast lamb. Depending on what is available in the market, the owner adds a few dishes every day. Be sure to ask the waiter about the specials of the day.

La Coupole: 102 Boulevard Montparnasse, Paris 14. Some of the clientele of this 1920s establishment wandered away after it was remodeled several years ago. Other, like this writer, find that the new decor remains completely faithful to the spirit of the '20s and would please Hemingway no less now than it did then. Coupole still serves the best croissants in all of Paris but, if you've come to eat, stick to the oysters, seafood and grilled meats.

Chez Georges: 273 blvd. Pereire. Paris 17. Situated in a house built in the time of Charlemagne, this little restaurant serves classic dishes and some of the best are mutton with potatoes, pot-au-feu, boeuf bourguignonne and navarin printanier, all of which are made perfectly. There is always a good selection of wines available in carafe and be sure to ask if there are any wines specially recommended when you visit.

© Daniel Rogov