5.1 Desvouges, 6, rue des Fosses St-Marcel (in the old Les Cepages space, thus opposite L'Agrume + Agapes), closed weekends and Monday and Tuesday lunch, (Metros: St Marcel, Gobelins or Censier-Daubenton), 01.47.07.91.25, has a menu-carte at 26 E, but a la carte is the same, so....
As you can see, they kept the bar a vins designation on the awning and the interior that looks like a 1950's bistro (a look I really like, BTW) but the menu has a Toulousian/Southwestern tilt (which I also like) and it's under the umbrella of a societe called "Self made miam." Gotta love that. When you search it, Manageio.fr says it's owner is DESVOUGES Jérôme and it's capitalized at 10 000 E. Well that explains the name, it's not some obscure Southwestern charcuterie. I feel I little less unlearned.
The entree of day (charmingly written on a Post it™) was a croustillant of piggy footems (it was all one might ask of such); but the overwhelming number of other regular choices were hard and soft, cold and hot sausages and charcuteries. (Not Colette's dream team).
I ordered my main in full cognizance of what it would be; leg of confited duck au jus with mashies not the classic duck-fat sauteed confit de canard with duck-fat sauteed Sarladaise potatoes. Thus as advertised, it was more like coq au vin than a blast of duck fat. Again, very nice.
At some point in my meal "the jury came in" as my friend Paga would say, occupying 40% of the restos' covers. I sort of listened to the orders taken: cassolette of escargots, pigs' feet, sausage, charcuterie, Toulouse nems, sausage like at a Rugby stadium (BTW the chef and front man surely played such for the Toulouse Stade Club), etc. etc. I even heard orders taken for chocolate souffle but it didn't dawn on me I should have ordered it at the start - dummy.
So, of course, when handed the dessert menu, I ordered the souffle. Order taken. Guy comes back from the kitchen. "No more." "But that's what I wanted," I whine, "sure there's not a smidgen left?, oh woe is me." No budge. "Ok, nothing at all."
But then a cooler head prevailed - I'd been smelling a cheese platter sitting on the comptoir over my shoulder for an hour and it looked pretty good and I had some wine left. Yessss. And the six farm cheeses of which I tasted tiny pieces of four (from Munster to camembert) were great.
To compensate me for crying all over his tablecloth, the guy comp'd me to coffee, so with my three dishes and wine (full bottles of which run 16-85 E, but they'll do them a la ficelle) and no bottled water but OK bread my bill was 42 E.
Go? Competing on the same street with L'Agrume + Agapes is tough, if it were located otherwherise (pretty good neologism eh?) I'd say yes.
As a last word, the bathroom art:
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