On September 27, MoMA Queens will close its doors, ending the museum’s 2-year sojourn in Long Island City. But another 2-year-old destination in the neighborhood is remaining open and should continue to lure Manhattanites to the area: Tournesol, a French bistro that holds its own among the city’s best neighborhood restaurants. Its breezy feel, quirky decor, and warmly skillful service evoke the kind of casual, family-run spot that visitors to France dream of finding, while Manhattan’s all-too-familiar cookie-cutter bistros strive for a similar effect but, with their tile floors, antiqued mirrors, and vintage advertising posters, wind up evoking only one another.

Out of reach of the city’s hotly competitive climate, Tournesol is free to thrive on its own terms, and its kitchen validates the restaurant’s self-confidence. The menu, which arrives with a saucer of Nicoise olives to sharpen the appetite, doesn’t stray far from basics: gratifying, simple dishes with a Gascon leaning. Familiar compositions sometimes get a refreshing update with seasonal ingredients, and fruity flavors in particular lend an unexpected rejuvenating touch to dishes such as an entree of summery grilled sea scallops dotted with radishes and fresh blueberries in a creamy sauce with hints of anise ($18). Though it might not charm the strictest traditionalists, the offbeat combination highlights the savory aspect of the warm, tender scallops delightfully.

A pleasing starter of fried calamari tossed with chunks of beet ($7) is another surprise pairing that works well by bringing out oft-overlooked characteristics of its components: the squid meat is delicately chewy and rich and contrasts admirably with the sweetness of the firm beets. A summer special of cool, not cold, green melon soup ($5) is transportingly subtle; its mild, clean flavor, full of exotic intimations, seems to intensify with every spoonful.

More conventional dishes scintillate as well: beautifully supple snails arrive neck-deep in a crock of their favorite element, melted butter, which is perfumed with tarragon and parsley, and given a Provencal touch with summer tomatoes and mild olives ($7.50). When the last of the too-few gastropods is gone from the dish, it’s a sad moment; but the fine house bread accepts its inevitable fate as a sop for the remainder of the lively butter. Onion soup, that bistro standby, is note-perfect here, its customary rust-colored bowl topped with rich, bubblingly hot cheese, and the thick broth below deeply savory, with the caramel flavor of onion foremost ($6). Beignets of cod (charmingly translated by the Francophone waiter as “fish donuts”) have a dark amber crust that gives way, with a puff of steam, to a fluffy texture and subtle, creamy flavor within ($9).

The restaurant’s hanger steak ($15) has excellent beef flavor even naked and lashings of a suave herb butter (billed as bearnaise), under whose sumptuous auspices even a railroad tie would be delicious. The accompanying thicket of fries is no more than ordinary; crisper would be better. A large filet of skate ($14) is fried crisp and served with a mild mango sauce and a side of shredded red cabbage. The fish’s flavor is pure and sweet, though on one visit the flesh was tough, the meal’s sole disappointment.

A French bistro can arguably be judged by its roast chicken, and Tournesol’s is quite good ($13.50).Though not the menu’s zenith, the chicken’s simplicity showcases the kitchen’s competence very well, with flavorful skin and firm, moist flesh scented with garlic and rosemary. The restaurant additionally offers a rotating roster of daily special entrees, of which a standout is the “duo de canard” ($19) – slices of pan-seared duck breast paired with a duck leg confit. The confit is intensely flavored, meaty and salty but not excessively rich, with a crackly skin; the breast rare and marvelously juicy. Golden potato wedges and succulent wild mushrooms in a hearty reduction round out the dish.

Desserts are first-rate, particularly the airy and refreshing floating island ($6),a classic confection of soft, sweet egg whites poached in milk, surrounded by a moat of creme anglaise, and dressed with caramel sauce. The creme brulee ($6), informally served in a bowl rather than a ramekin, has a dark, thick crust and powerful vanilla flavor.

The wholly French wine list has a comfortably modest length and price range, and the sociable, solicitous staff readily offers recommendations, such as a bottle of Vacqueyras ($34),whose southern spiciness supports the meal handsomely, or a glass of refreshing rose de syrah ($8) to take the edge off a hot day. The house red is a woody, nuanced Haut-Medoc ($8/glass).

Tournesol’s sharply executed, timeless food integrates smoothly with the warm, never-rote service and mellow, homey atmosphere for an unaffected, simple, enjoyable experience, the essence of what a bistro should be. It is a neighborhood restaurant in character, with no aggrandizing frills tacked on, and it has remained so despite its increasing following among nonlocals. Only five minutes from Grand Central on the 7 train, it may not be undiscovered forever.