PARIS – Cookbook author, bank swindler and bistro owner Philippe Leclerq cares not a jot about Michelin stars.

Leclerq wants patrons of his new eatery in the 13th Arrondissement to sit back, relax, eat, drink, drink some more and – above all – not worry about the bill. That’s why every item on his menu is priced at 1.50 euros ($1.83).

Leclerq’s pricing philosophy, developed after a recent and expensive evening on the town with some friends, is that the cost of a decent meal should not exceed the hourly minimum wage in France, which varies between 6 and 7 euros.

“For me, it was a political statement, an attempt to improve civil society in this country,” said Leclerq, 43, whose leather vest, ample waistline and graying ponytail suggest a laid-back approach to capitalism.

“A lot of people in our business think they should be making money like the head of a corporation. They want $20,000 a month. They don’t look at the customer as someone who is spending his hard-earned money.”

Leclerq knows a thing or two about money. Before he got into the restaurant business, he robbed banks.

“But just with a pen,” he said with mock innocence.

Over the course of his criminal career, Leclerq said he embezzled about $500,000 from French banks. High-tailing it to Cuba, he ended up instead in Miami, where he said he discovered “really great low-priced eating.”

After a few years in the south Florida sun, he returned to France to replenish his bankroll, but a “careless error” – he doesn’t give details – led to his arrest and imprisonment.

During his time in the slammer, he began compiling a collection of jailhouse recipes that he later published as “Cuisine Within Four Walls.” It sold a respectable 3,000 copies.

His bistro, which opened last month, is called Cafe Banal. It doesn’t sound as bad in French as it does in English.

“In English it means boring; in French it means ordinary,” he said.

The original meaning of banal in French is communal. A “four banal” was the communal oven for bread baking in many French villages. Often it became a place where people would gather to socialize and eat. That, said Leclerq, is what he had in mind in choosing the name for his restaurant.

Judging by a recent weekday lunch crowd, Leclerq is on to something. Every one of the Formica-topped tables was filled.

The clientele ranged from proper Parisian matrons sipping Chablis with their nicoise salads to scruffy students nursing beers and sharing a plate of pommes frites. Two firemen cheerfully offered to share their table with an octogenarian “mademoiselle.”

“It’s not a charity business. I’m not a do-gooder. I just want people to come here, have a good meal and have a good time,” said Leclerq.

“The food is very good. The frites are fresh and crisp. The roast chicken was excellent,” said Trevor Roycroft, 71, a retired pharmaceuticals executive from California who has become a regular at the restaurant.

“I hope this is the start of a second French Revolution,” he added.

Christian Minot drove in from the suburbs with girlfriend Annie Deltreuil to sample the food and the prices.

Minot, who works as a chauffeur, pronounced the chicken slightly underdone but well flavored. The pear tart, he said, was above reproach. Lunch for two, with wine, came to a little more than $20, half what he would expect to pay at the most ordinary of cafes in Paris.

“This is obviously a place that’s very convivial, very welcoming. At a lot of restaurants in Paris, they seem to look down on you,” he said.

In a corner behind the bar, Leclerq puffed contentedly on his unfiltered Camel. “This is how it should be,” he said. “We make a little money, and everybody is happy.”

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(c) 2003, Chicago Tribune.

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PHOTO (from KRT Photo Service, 202-383-6099): france+cheapeats

AP-NY-12-25-03 0608EST