No getting around this. If you are in Paris long enough you begin to notice … that you are hemorrhaging euros whenever you sit down to eat in a restaurant.

For a few days, you don’t mind. If the restos are particularly special, you shrug off the expense.

It’s when you encounter something ordinary, by Paris standards, and find yourself with an extraordinary bill.

As the French would say,  par example:

Last night, at a place named La Table du Vin Vignon, in the 9th, we had a fine but not special meal. We went with the three-course formule for 29.60 euros. I had goose rillettes on toast, fish (dorade) in a chorizo sauce and glace for dessert (chocolate and  praline; they were out of vanilla).

It was fine. I’m not sure I’ve had goose rillettes, which is like a really well-done version of what Americans might call “potted meat.” The dorade had some bones, and wasn’t a big cut, but it was fine; firm but not fishy. The bits of pork in the chorizo sauce were helpful. A large scoop of white rice came without garnish, which made it a bit dry and boring.

Leah had crispy duck (egg rolls, essentially, with duck in them), and confit de canard with round fried potatoes for her main. For dessert, she chose fruit, which they did not have, and settled for chocolate cake. She described her choices as “fine.”

We were there with another couple, and we ordered a bottle of Languedoc (from the “special” menu) for 31 euros.

Service was shaky, several items on the menu were unavailable, but what we had … solid. Not huge portions, which often is a good thing.

But that set us back 81 euros, which is about $109 — or about as much as we are paying per day for our rented apartment.

Tonight, we went to a bistro in the Marais, Chez Camille, about a 10-minute walk from where we’re staying on the Rue Tresor.

Things there were quite basic. No formule available here. Everything was a la carte. I ordered vegetable potage, a thick soup made of everything and nothing. It was almost tasteless. For the second plat, I had a plate of lentils (winter comfort food) with a slab of ham on top. The ham was very moist and tender; it was almost falling apart as I watched it.

Leah had salade landaise, with gizzards and liver, and she liked it well enough. It was fairly big, though the waitress said it wasn’t, particularly, which led to her ordering the steak tartare, too, which was more food than she would have ordered, after seeing the salad. The tartare came with a plate of French fries and a salad, and she liked all three. The tartare was very good, well-seasoned with nice capers. And she appreciated the fries, because good fries are rare in the UAE.

Good stuff, but fairly basic in the French resto canon, and the prices were steep, perhaps influenced by the Marais address.

The only break we got was buying the house Bordeaux (four people at the table), which was 14 euros for each of the two half-liters we bought. And it tasted like house Bordeaux.

The damage? 82 euros, when the bill was divided, which put us over the $110 mark for a basic dinner.

I appreciate that restaurant prices are climbing everywhere, but Paris seems to be on the cutting edge, at least at fairly basic, neighborhood places. And I appreciate that a leisurely, three-hour meal means that we are essentially renting out a space in the resto — it was unlikely that they had turned that table before we arrived at 8:15 p.m.

This stuff adds up. I can’t believe I’m already jaded; I’ve been in the city only eight days. But I can eat for a week in Abu Dhabi for what I’m paying for a bistro here. Hard to banish that thought.

(This could also be a function of Seinfeld’s Law: That before going to a restaurant, when you are hungry, no price is too high, and when you are sated, no price is too low.)

Anyway, I will give some thought to something that can be made in the apartment. Go a night or two without frequenting one of the city’s 7,000 restaurants.

The backdrop to this … is “fine dining” in Abu Dhabi is often more expensive (and usually in the big hotels) and never as good. Never. And service in the UAE is almost sure to be much worse. Must admit the restos there are never as crowded, though; I had to move my chair about 10 times to allow for patrons and waiters to pass. But there are good reasons why Abu Dhabi restos are often empty.

Still, when you do this several times, you feel your wallet getting lighter. It becomes more difficult to just chalk it up to “hey, we’re in Paris!”

Which means we need to make more careful choices on non-splurge nights, and maybe have a sandwich, a night or two, this second week.