PARIS-Before I left to study abroad, I was given a certain piece of advice from my father: "Expand yourself, broaden your horizons and open yourself up to new experiences and ideas." Well dad, you'll be happy to know that I've followed your advice almost word-for-word. I have opened myself up to the new idea of food as a passion, experiencing the finest of French cuisine and thereby expanding both my palate and my stomach. I have genuinely become obsessed with food, mainly of the French type.I guess you could say it's a pretty easy obsession to have living in Paris, but for me it was quite a surprise. I've never been the type to make a fuss over what I eat. I'm a "if the food fills you up, eat it" type of gal. However, I've found it nearly impossible to keep this mantra in Paris. The food is just too good!

I first realized I was in for a treat during my first day in Paris after I wandered into a boulangerie. I was simply overwhelmed by the delicious smell of fresh baked bread and overabundance of mouth-watering pastries. Coming from the diet and Atkins-obsessed, carbohydrate-hating America, I was unaware that some people still enjoy eating bread. Actually, the French don't just eat their bread; they venerate it.

Since that first day, my love of Parisian boulangeries has only grown stronger. I look forward to each morning when I am faced with the impossible decision of which pastry to choose. Actually, the first step is choosing which boulangerie, considering there are about 15 in a one-mile radius of my apartment. I am baffled as to how they all stay in business, but I won't complain. Instead, I'll try to support each one.

After almost a month of trying practically every boulangerie on my block and still not being able to decide which one was the best, I received some help. My host parents informed me that another American, Sarah, would be coming to live with us while she worked as a food critic in Paris.

At first, I was slightly intimidated by her boundless knowledge of French cuisine. However, I now have become Sarah's most willing student and taster. Like a lover of fine art seeing the "Mona Lisa" for the first time, Sarah's eyes light up with her first bite of a good quiche or chocolate cake. I am determined to achieve the same appreciation.

Our first stop on Sarah's mission to turn me into a French food connoisseur was to the Salon d'Agriculture. Each year, the finest of French food producers flock to Paris to show off their culinary creations at a week long exposition. At the end of the week, the minister of Agriculture awards medals to the best foods in each category, such as cheese, honey and fois gras.

Over-stimulation was the word of the day as I made my way through the isles upon isles and rooms upon rooms of food. I started cautiously, trying only some little pieces of goat cheese, but as I continued I got increasingly more adventurous.

I still cannot decide what I enjoyed the most. Perhaps it was the chestnut-flavored honey or the cherry-flavored beer. Or maybe it was the comte cheese, aged 22 months. But then there was also the aligot (mashed potatoes bathed in a cream sauce) and chocolate cake. Am I making you hungry yet?

As if this wasn't enough to choose from, I was then taken into a room solely dedicated to cheese. Actually; not just cheese, but the number one cheeses voted in France. Proudly displaying their medals, each fromager described the labor that goes into making such fine cheese. From the milking of the cows or sheep to the perfect temperature in which to age the cheese, it is more like the meticulous work of an artist than I had ever imagined.

Unfortunately, Americans are unable to enjoy this superior cheese unless they come to France. Almost all French cheese is made from un-pasteurized milk, which better preserves its true flavor. But the U.S. government has banned un-pasteurized cheese, claiming it is a health risk. The French, however, tend to disagree with the U.S. government's motives for this ban. As one fromager explained to me, un-pasteurized cheese has never posed any health risks in the thousands of years of its existence. Perhaps there is more of an economic reason for this ban than the U.S. government will admit.

Although nothing can quite match the splendor of the Salon d'Agriculture, Sarah has since taken me to explore many outdoor markets around Paris. Unlike most Americans, who go to the supermarket for their food needs, Parisians love to wander through the crowded isles of open-air markets. The brightly colored fruits and vegetables, with vendors yelling prices in French, make these markets some of the best cultural and culinary experiences I have had.

If your only exposure to French cuisine has been French toast and freedom fries (which, incidentally, originated in Belgium), then you have a lot left to experience. The excellence expected of French cuisine is appropriately defined by the French proverb, "There is no such thing as a pretty good omelet." Here, an omelet, the least of French cuisine, defines the rest of the food culture. My experience has shown that excellence is expressed in every cheese, bread, wine and any other food prepared by a French artisan. Perhaps, when the concept of excellence is truly explored, the hallmark might well be a Frenchman's striving to elevate a simple morsel of cheese to a divine work of art.