For the past few nights in the Loire Valley, I've been reminded that an evening meal here can be much more than a meal. When you spend $60 for dinner here (instead of just "filling the tank" for $20) don't count on getting any extra nutrition. You're buying a three-hour joy ride for the senses ' as rich as visiting an art gallery and as stimulating as a good massage.

In Amboise, after a full day of researching the next edition of our France book, Steve Smith and I go to Restaurant L'Epicerie. Steve orders a basic menu and I go top end. As usual, we share. I bring along my little black notebook in an attempt to capture how ' when you choose a good restaurant, relax about the prices, and let yourself really tune into the experience ' splurging on dinner is a travel thrill in itself. And that can make it a great value.

Getting a full dozen escargot rather than the typical six snails doubles the joy. Eating six you're aware that supply is very limited. Eating twelve, it seems for the first eight like there's no end to your snail fun. The taste is so striking that I find myself requesting silence at the table. It's just my mouth and the garlic-drenched snails, all alone on the dance floor of my palette. Add good Chinon wine and you've got a full orchestra accompaniment. Like a slow motion love scene, I pry another snail gently out of its shell and pop it into my mouth. The swirly spiral on the empty shells visually syncs with each swish of wine.

Like a mermaid's tail in a tide pool, my crust of bread laps up the homemade garlic-and-herb sauce. I ask Aurore, our waitress, how it can be so good. With a sassy chuckle and smile she says, "Other restaurateurs come here to figure that out, too." Then she adds, "It's done with love." While I've heard that line many times, here it seems believable.

The restaurant itself adds to the experience. Under rough timber beams hang frameless portraits of long forgotten city fathers. Opposite hangs an aging painting of a traditional boat full sail blowing up the Loire. Glasses fill the room like crystal flowers. Gazing at the quiet lane outside my window, with the floodlit Amboise ch

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