By: Marion Warhaft
For the Free Press

Restaurant Dubrovnik ***** out of five

If I could choose my last meal on Earth and my first in paradise they'd both be foie gras. All I could eat of it, in half a dozen variations, enough to get sick on. My aspirations for the accompanying wine are more modest. I'd settle for a Montbazillac instead of the stratospheric Chateau d'Yquem, which is probably why I write about food, and not wines.

Foie gras -the swollen, super-rich liver of a force-fed goose or duck -is the food love of my life. It's food for the gods, but available to mere mortals also, albeit-always, everywhere -at a significant price. Although it's rare in this city, at least one restaurant serves it, and in a setting worthy of this sumptuous dish.

Few local restaurants can match Dubrovnik for elegance, whether on the bright, two-tiered verandah with a view of the greenery in front, or in the two traditional dining rooms. And now, after peripatetic experiments elsewhere, owner Milan Bodiroga and his brother Gojko -the once and current chef -are both back where they started 22 years ago.

You are pampered immediately with complimentary ripe olives and a basketful of excellent house-made breads -a dense white baguette and cheese and herb topped foccaccio. Restraint is essential, or you may never make it to the magnificent pate de foie gras, which, although not on the menu, is almost always available, at $19.50 a portion.

It's always worth asking about other unlisted items. Like one night's duck and chicken galantine ($6.95) with a pistachio at its heart and high-bush cranberry sauce and toasted brioche on the side.

Among the listed appetizers are luscious mussels ($9.95) steamed with subtle hints of lemon grass and basil, and sautéed shrimp ($10) bedded on warm, wilted spinach with a lively vodka-spiked salsa. A game pate ($7) tasted good, but the Ritz-like crackers with it were an odd anachronism.

Apart from daily specials (most over $30) and lamb and lobster tails, which are sold at market price, fish and meat entrees range from $17.95 to $28.95. It was here I discovered I could like ostrich after all, tender sautéed escalopes in a peppery brown grand veneur sauce. Braised, locally rare sweetbreads, bedded on a creamy julienne of equally rare celery root, are topped by crunchy strips of wild mushrooms.

Chicken Gojko is stuffed with shrimp and wild rice mousse and cloaked in a buttery beurre blanc. Mango chutney helps disguise the lack of juices in otherwise good pork tenderloin. Mango also forms part of the mint and lime sparked sauce on sweet-fleshed halibut, baked in an envelope of Phyllo. Plump grilled shrimp are topped by a Mediterranean tomato-based veggie mixture. Garnishes vary with each dish -wedges of creamy gratineed potatoes with roasted garlic, wild rice lightened by chunks of mango, lightly spiced couscous. Fat spears of asparagus turn up often. One night, pureed carrots shaped into their original form; another night, a cream-rich cauliflower puree that left us gasping for more.

The daily varying pastries ($6 each) are luscious. Three of the best are constants: rich, caramel-crusted crème brulée; ethereal floating island, drizzled with caramelized sugar; and the wonderful wedges of chocolate meringue layered with chocolate mousse.

The presentation of all dishes is elegant, and the service impeccable. Obviously what you spend will depend on what, and how much you order, but dedicated wine-drinkers will face a hard choice, with most bottles at the lower end marked up an average three times the Liquor Commission prices. For instance, that old warhorse, red Mouton Cadet, at $29.