A Philadelphia Restaurant Tour De France

Francophobic, gum-chewing travel agent named Frieda, who held a grudge against the Caribbean island of Martinique, once cautioned us against vacationing there. Chomped Frieda: "Don't you know, because of all that French influence, the food is just saucy, saucy, saucy?"

Frieda wasn't talking culinary coquettishness. She meant dressings and goos.

Notwithstanding her prejudice, Frieda was right; French food is saucy - wonderfully so, as was confirmed by recent visits to 10 Philadelphia-area French restaurants.

So you've already glanced at the names and are asking: "Yo, where's Le Bec-Fin?" Try 1513 Walnut St. Truth is, we set our gastronomic sights on non- world-famous eateries; hence the following, which - though minus Le Bec - constitutes something of an Eater's Digest condensed version of a Guide Michelin to our town's French fare.

Some advice: If you're guarding your francs, think about eating as the Parisians do at lunch, then returning to burgers at dinner. Classy French restaurants tend to come with classy French prices, but lunch is generally more affordable than dinner.

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LA TRUFFE. 10 S. Front St. 925-5062. Conjure up your ultimate fantasy of a French restaurant - relying not so much on experience as on what you've seen in movies and read about in books.

Does your reverie include tuxedoed waiters? Ancient, fringe-shaded lamps and fresh flowers a table? How about upholstered Queen Anne chairs and banquettes with overstuffed throw pillows? Or partially curtained and cordoned-off tables inviting tender intimacies?

Is it all just a touch cluttered but elegantly comfy?

Wake up and smell the cafe - La Truffe, whose address may be in Old City but whose soul pulses to the flow of the Seine. The good news doesn't stop with the ambiance; we popped in for the prix fixe ($15) lunch - then stayed three hours, in large measure because, without exception, everything we were served was sensational and was presented so beautifully that we were sorely tempted to whip out our Polaroid.

The meal began with crab salad - a generous, delicately seasoned mound festooned with tiny, diamond-shaped carrot slivers and Pez-size dots of zucchini and squash. A dining partner opted to begin with asparagus salad - a handsome miniature barricade of that vegetable, neither too crunchy nor too

squishy, gently dressed in a delicate vinaigrette.