As a child, I spent many Easter and summer holidays with my adopted French family, more often than not swimming, sailing and playing in and around the Atlantic coast.

A highlight of the Easter trip was the massive family gathering that was celebrated with a luxurious shellfish lunch.

In the morning, the adults would head to the local fish market for the pick of oysters, crabs, lobster and langoustine while the eager young whippersnappers were dispatched to the rock pools for mussels.

As ever, the wines were given as much priority as the food itself and the chink-chink of the bottles coming up from the cellar was about the only thing that could pull me away from the hubbub of the kitchen.

Over all the years that I was lucky enough to take part in this extravaganza I never once saw a deviation in the dishes being served or the wines that went with them.

The only exception to the rule was the choice of aperitif. If we were in Brittany it was Champagne but when further south and closer to La Rochelle there was a switch to the almost local' Crémant de Loire.

I think it would have been heresy to say it at the time but I always preferred the fruitier, lighter style of the crémant which was so much more palatable to my more youthful tastebuds at the time.

Mussels were both cooked in and served with Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine Sur Lie. My family loved these wines for their freshness, vibrancy and incredible value for money.

They would choose the most recent vintage and without question, always one which was sur lie'. These two little words refer to the maturation of the wine on the lees over the winter. This gives the wines more flavour and that little bit of spritz that is their hallmark.

Crab, langoustine and lobster are altogether more flavoursome and meatier' than mussels and so a weightier wine would replace the muscadet. Chablis came up trumps every year.

They always chose a lightly-oaked wine and, when funds allowed, a premier cru. Rather than choosing a younger wine, the Chablis tended to have at least two or three years' bottle age on them. I vividly remember the wine's smoky citrus fruits and the velvety richness of the lobster and wishing that every eating experience could be that good.

I think they waited until I had hit my teenage years before I was allowed to partake of the oyster and vintage champagne experience. I'm afraid I just couldn't understand it.

At the time the wine seemed cheesy and unappealing and, as for the oysters, I'm afraid they didn't do much for me either.

I've been teased about it for almost 25 years but this, apparently great', food and wine pair didn't wow me then and hasn't done since (though I have now acquired an expensive taste for vintage champagne, more on that another time).

As we eke our way into spring it's rather nice to give up with the hearty winter fare and indulge in something a little bit different. Moules frites and a glass of Muscadet anyone?

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