“Here you are, monsieur,” said the waiter, speaking in a thick French accent as he put a plate of snails down in front of me. “Voila!”

You’d expect to find this scene being played out at any number of downtown spots in Manhattan, or perhaps on Smith Street in Carroll Gardens or Fifth Avenue in Park Slope. But probably not in Astoria, Queens.

And especially not in this part of Astoria, the neighborhood’s southern edge, on a long commercial strip dotted with nail salons, muffler shops, and bodegas. Most of the eateries here are pizzerias and Chinese takeout joints.

It is in this unlikely setting that the owners of Le Sans Souci, an appealing new bistro, have chosen to pitch their tent. But they’ve been discreet about it: Their low-key, nameless awning is easy to miss amidst the strip’s flashy lighted signage – it stands out by not standing out. But judging by the crowds of happy diners I’ve seen on my visits, people are having no trouble finding it.

Le Sans Souci (“Without a Care”) is run by Jean-Pierre Le Pape, who hails from Brittany but has lived in Queens for two decades. He’s done his best to create an authentically French country atmosphere inside the restaurant, which features stone walls, exposed beams, and rough-hewn wooden tables adorned with little milk pail-esque flower vases. It’s all very relaxing (except for the staff, which seems perpetually harried but is unfailingly pleasant nonetheless).

The first thing to do upon being seated is to check the daily prix-fixe special listed on the chalkboard. Even if the full special doesn’t appeal to you, see if it includes a foie gras appetizer; if it does – as it did on both of my visits – ask to order it a la carte ($12). You’ll be rewarded with a generous serving of supremely rich foie gras sandwiched between hunks of caramelized apple and topped with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar and a scattering of pomegranate seeds. It’s a stupendous mix of flavors, textures, and colors, and a great way to start a meal.

If the foie gras isn’t available, the snails ($9) are an excellent fallback. They’re sauteed with leeks and topped with a dill sauce and an impeccably crisp sheet of puff pastry. And you’ll have the kick of saying, “escargots,” which is always fun.

There are several salads, the best of which features a hearty mix of frisee (curly endive), potatoes, diced red onion, a poached egg, and some spectacularly savory bacon lardons, all tossed with an apple-cider vinaigrette ($9).

This being a bistro, of course there are mussels ($9). The broth, featuring white wine and shallots, is nothing you haven’t seen before, but it’s well done, and the appetizer serving size is almost comically large – especially given that there’s an accompanying side of fries. (The entree serving, available for $14, must be big enough to feed half of Brittany.) There’s also a charcuterie platter ($11), featuring a fairly pedestrian assortment of sausages and pate. It’s fine but underwhelming – you know something’s wrong when you’re more excited by the accompanying gherkins and pickled onions than you are by the meats.

The casual setting and satisfying portions make it tempting just to order appetizers, especially since the entrees are a bit spotty. The best of them feature scallops, including a skewer of perfectly sauteed sea scallops served over basmati rice with lobster sauce ($22). The scallops are plump, meaty, and cooked just right, with the perfect level of juicy brininess.

On one of my visits the prix-fixe special paired these same expertly rendered scallops with some of the most oceanic-tasting shrimp I’ve ever tried, cooked with the kind of light touch that makes you realize that most other restaurants are overcooking their shrimp. Unfortunately, shrimp don’t appear on the standard menu. But if you see them listed on the blackboard, pounce!

Other entrees aren’t quite as consistent. Roast duck with wild rice ($22) is competently executed, but what the menu refers to as “sweet and sour red grape sauce” turns out to be neither sweet nor sour – it’s bland and characterless. A similar problem affects the pork tenderloin ($20): The meat isn’t bad, and it pairs nicely with the scallion mashed potatoes and caramelized apple slices, but the Calvados creme sauce is a dud. The problem with the steak au poivre ($23) is simpler: a decidedly unremarkable piece of beef.

But you can eat very well at Le Sans Souci simply by sharing some appetizers and then moving on to the desserts (all $6). There’s no new ground being broken here, but old favorites such as molten chocolate cake and pear tart live up to their iconic status. The creme brulee is particularly good: rich and eggy, with a crust that teases the line between browned and burnt but never quite crosses it, creating that perfect bittersweet undercurrent.

Le Sans Souci isn’t perfect – not yet, at least – but its extremely pleasant air makes it easy for you to forgive its shortcomings, and even easier for you to root for it. And given its fairly bleak surroundings, it qualifies as a bona fide oasis.

Le Sans Souci, 44-09 Broadway, Astoria; 718-728-2733.