One of my fondest memories of mussels is a lunch of moules frites in a cosy restaurant on the Grand Place in Brussels, snug at a window table, snow falling softly outside. I have dug into my fair share in France too, when come September, cafés and brasseries are busy cooking up moules frites and serving fragrant bowls of mussels in a myriad of ways. Add some crusty baguette and a carafe of wine, and it's an inexpensive and delicious way to spend an evening. In season, the produce markets in Paris are also laden with mussels, noisily scooped into buckets like seashells, ...