A Trailer Park Paris restaurant review
Ahhh… Paris. The City of Bud Light, with so much on tap in the way of find dining.
Paris Karin (I haven’t changed her name because she doesn’t have much innocence left to protect) and I went to the classiest area of Paris to masticate some French cooking. Because we wanted to avoid American food and sample the local cuisine, we settled, like dregs in a bottle of Vieux Pape, on Quick.
The decor was an interesting mélange of Post-modern Ikea-ism mixed with Pre-war Wright. The end result could be best described as Not-The-Wright-Ikea.
So that I might run the spectrum on my palate, I decided to partake of the three-course meal. Karin, on the other hand, is what’s known in scientific circles as “In-edible”, which in lay terms means she’s allergic to any food that’s edible. This is why she chose Quick to begin with and preferred to kill or be killed by only one course.
I followed the “suggestion du minute” of the menu board, which hinted the Long Bacon was especially good that instant, while Karin decided to lose whatever innocence she had remaining to a Suprême Cheese.
Mise En Bouche: Chicken Dips
Served in a crisp paper sack, Chicken Dips are selected hunks of processed poultry, lightly breaded in soggy batter and accompanied au dip with a challenging puke pink paste.
The Maxi Menu recommended a pétillante Coke Zero with the appetizer. Dating from 2pm (it was a very good time), its bouquet was fully fruity and the aspartame aftertaste wasn’t completely diluted by the three ice cubes disintegrating in the cup. What’s more, its hardy body completely squashed the feeble flavor of the chicken.
Plat Principal: Long Bacon
The main course did nothing if not continue the unique dining experience that is Quick. The recycled dish cover was deceptively large for the “long” bacon (one must remember everything is smaller on the continent), for as soon as I lifted the lid, I discovered a simple bacon burger on a bed of cardboard.
The provenance of the beef was given as “the factory” and that went a long way in explaining the interestingly oblong cut of meat. The bun was freshly baked, though I was hard pressed to guess what month. The cheese, conform enough in shape to the burger to make me wonder if both had come from the same cow, had given up trying to melt, though the effort did cause it to perspire profusely.
The absence of any condiments (lettuce, tomato, onion) on the sandwich led me to suppose the burger was nouvelle cuisine (emphasis on “nouvelle“, not so much on “cuisine“).
The side dish of French fries was proffered brazenly unsalted with admonitions emblazoned on the holder that salt was at the diner’s disposal in many locations throughout the establishment, should the need arise to give the frites a modicum of flavor.
Dessert: Mix Mania
I rounded off the edgy meal with a Mix Mania Lion. The soft serve ice cream arrived in a thick paper container with a smattering of what resembled rabbit scat scattered on top. The sprinkles were, in fact, “Lion”, which is a candy bar and breakfast cereal; the idea is to stir the puffed grains, chocolate and caramel into an ice cream as soft as polyester pillow stuffing. The most gracious aspect of the dessert was how mercifully it numbed my reeling taste buds.
Note: For more photos of Quick on the Champs Elysées, please check out my photo blog post at Paris Inspired Photos.