It was quite common, pre-covid, for French restaurants to plop communal dishes of everything from cheese to charcuterie to chocolate mousse on the table. It’s a trope you’ll find dotted throughout the memoirs of Peter Mayle; it’s one of the stories Cheese Journeys founder Anna Juhl shared with me in a story for My French Life when she was recounting some of her first brushes with rural France. One of my favorite Parisian bistros, Astier, was once famous for plopping a wicker basket of cheese on the table in lieu of a cheese course, and in Cannes, La Brouette de Grand’Mere became a favorite among my friends, in part due to the generosity of the house-made terrine that began the festivities.
But while such shared starters were once commonplace, I see them less and less these days – a victim of Covid and price-gouging to boot. Le Quincy stands the test of time.
I’m far from the first person to be wooed by the time warp that is le Quincy. This little restaurant looks like the country inn it purports to be on its signage, plopped just a few steps from Gare de Lyon. But while Bobosse, the long-time proprietor, is no longer swanning around the room, the ambiance is just as old-school as ever. (And is reflected in the cash-only policy!)
The dining room is pleasantly overstuffed with tables that offer more than generous elbow room and gingham napkins featuring the restaurant’s name. Rustic touches like a framed portrait of a pig set the scene, and the professional waiters, many of whom I’d assume have been there since they were teens, keep things running perfectly.
Take a seat and you’ll immediately be served a welcome apéritif: a plate of saucisson and a small glass of sparkling. It’s just enough to lubricate your perusal of the menu of mainly meaty specialties.
House-made terrine (16) is a no-brainer, looming over the dining room from a table in the center bearing many unlimited charcuterie options, including an actual basket of saucisson that can be yours for a mere 20 euro.
The rich, fatty terrine is served with a copious bowl of garlicky cabbage salad – a welcome bit of crunch (and fiber) to aid the digestion, in true French form.
I opted for the caillette ardechoise (15), a a sort of pâté stuffed in caul fat that I used to order often from my ruche. Made with a combination of pork shoulder, throat, and liver bulked out with spinach or chard and herbs, it’s perfectly rich and meaty with a slightly herbaceous flair counterbalancing all that fat.
I was once a bit embarrassed to admit I served caillettes on salad, assuming the French would pair them with something homier and richer like mashed potatoes. But even Chez Bobosse, this specialty is served atop a green salad with a lovely, zingy vinaigrette.
One of the only vegetarian options – if not the sole vegetarian option – is just as rich: a leek tart (14) with one of the butteriest pastry crusts I’ve ever tried.
Most of the mains are served tableside out of rustic cassolettes. That includes this rabbit stewed in a lovely white wine and shallot sauce (28), which comes with sides of tagliatelle noodles and crispy croutons.
The fall-apart-tender rabbit was richly flavorful and the sauce bright and just rich enough. I loved tipping small spoonfuls of croutons into it so that they could soak up all of its flavor. So intent was I on finishing every morsel that I didn’t even manage to try the tagliatelle.
Of course, that might have also been due to the fact that I was too busy sampling my friends’ choices, like this cassoulet with tender but still al dente beans (31).
Or this supremely tender oxtail (28) in a richly reduced gravy.
This decadent, creamy veal chop was swimming in a morel-spiked cream sauce (37) that basically demanded to be mopped up with plentiful baguette, though it also came with a side of rice.
Luckily, though many of these dishes proved impossible to finish, one nod at modernity is that the staff is more than willing to package the rest up to go – and not tossed haphazardly into aluminum foil, as I often see. Here, any restes are vacuum-packed into a sous-vide pouch on request, so you can reheat them gently for your lunch the next day.
And considering the dessert options, you’ll definitely want to stop while you’re ahead.
The all-you-can-eat mentality applies to this veritable mixing bowl of airy chocolate mousse (13), luscious and rich.
I mean…
As for me, I was wooed by an equally copious vat of rice pudding studded with rum-soaked raisins (13). The rice had broken down just a bit, so that it had an even silkier, creamier mouthfeel.
And of course, it came with a side of unlimited rum-soaked raisins.
As we nursed the last of our wine and digestifs, we were served a tin of croquants, a sort of hard biscuit with almonds, which made me feel like I was back in someone’s home. I nibbled on one as I watched a neighboring table feast on frogs’ legs so redolent with garlic we could smell them across the room.
This place is truly like a step out of time, and I’m glad to see that even though Bobosse is getting a well-deserved rest, it remains just as authentic as I’d always heard it would be.
Le Quincy – 28, avenue Ledru Rollin, 75012