In Pursuit of the Perfect Parisian Pastry--Could it be true, as rumor has it, that more eggs, sugar, cream, and butter per capita are consumed in Paris than in any other city? From a modern-day Proust sampling a madeleine to a child munching a pain au chocolat (chocolate-filled croissant), everyone in Paris seems to be looking for two things: the perfect lover and the perfect pastry, not necessarily in that order. As a Parisian food critic once said, "A day without a pastry is a day in hell!"

Who'd think of beginning a morning in Paris without a croissant or two--freshly baked, flaky and light and made with real butter, preferably from Norman cows. The Greeks may have invented pastry making, but the French perfected it. Some French pastries have made a greater impact than others. The croissant and the brioche, a yeasty sweet breakfast bread, are baked around the world today, as is the fabled éclair au chocolat (chocolate éclair), a pastry filled with whipped cream or pastry cream and topped with chocolate. Another pastry you should sample on its home turf is the Napolitain--layers of cake flour and almonds alternating with fruit purée. (Don't confuse this term with Neapolitan, meaning sweets and cakes made with layers of two or more colors, each layer flavored differently.) Very much in vogue is the mille-feuille ("thousand leaves"), made by arranging thin layers of flaky pastry on top of each other, along with layers of cream or fruit purée or jam; the American version is the napoleon.

Here are some of our favorite pâtisseries: Stohrer, 51 rue Montorgueil, 2e (tel. 01-42-33-38-20; Métro: Sentier or Les Halles), has been going strong ever since it was opened by Louis XV's pastry chef in 1730. A pastry always associated with this place is puits d'amour (well of love), which consists of caramelized puff pastry filled with vanilla ice cream. Available at any time is one of the most luscious desserts in Paris, baba au rhum, or its even richer cousin, un Ali Baba, which also incorporates cream-based rum-and-raisin filling. Stohrer boasts an interior decor classified as a national historic treasure, with frescoes of damsels in 18th-century costume bearing flowers and (what else?) pastries.

Opened in 1862, a few steps from La Madeleine, Ladurée Royale, 16 rue Royale, 8e (tel. 01-42-60-21-79; Métro: Concorde or Madeleine), is Paris's dowager tearoom. Its pastry chefs are known for the macaron, a pastry for which this place is celebrated. Karl Lagerfeld comes here and raves about them, as did the late ambassador Pamela Harriman. This isn't the sticky coconut-version macaroon known to many, but two almond meringue cookies, flavored with chocolate, vanilla, pistachio, coffee, or other flavor, stuck together with butter cream. You may also want to try one of Hermé's latest creations--the Le Faubourg, a lusciously dense chocolate cake with layers of caramel and apricots.

In business since Napoleon was in power, Dalloyau, 101 rue du Faubourg St-Honoré, 8e (tel. 01-42-99-90-00; Métro: St-Philippe du Roule), has a name instantly recognizable throughout Paris; it supplies pastries to the Elysée Palace (the French White House) and many Rothschild mansions nearby. Its specialties are Le Dalloyau, praline cake filled with almond meringue that's marvelously light-textured, and un Opéra, composed of an almond-flavored biscuit layered with butter cream, chocolate, coffee, and cashews. Unlike Stohrer, Dalloyau has a tearoom (open daily 8am-7pm) one floor above street level, where ladies who lunch can drop in for a slice of pastry that Dalloyau warns is "too fragile to transport, or to mail, over long distances."

The best way to end your pastry tour is to follow Proust's lead and sample a madeleine, a buttery teacake shaped like a scallop shell. We head for Lerch, 4 rue Cardinal-Lemoine, 5e (tel. 01-43-26-15-80; Métro: Cardinal Lemoine), founded in 1971 by the Alsatian-born Lerch family. It sells goods to luminaries like Martha Stewart as well as the Proust fans who come hoping the madeleine will "invade their senses with exquisite pleasure," as it did for the narrator of A la recherché du temps perdu. Ideally, the madeleine is dipped into tea, preferably the slightly lime-flavored tilleuil.