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Araignée de mer – spider crab

Crabe mou – soft-shell crab

Their custodians loiter in front, waiting for customers. I experience the same mild panic as when confronted by a weighty wine list in a smart restaurant – how on earth is one supposed to choose between baskets of bivalves? I do a slow circuit of the stalls, trying hard, like everyone else, to look like I know what I’m doing, and end up back at Aux Délices de Cancale, run by two brothers, Fabien et Gildas Barbé, attracted not by the subtle curve of the shells on display, or the quality of their barnacle build-up, but by the fact that they have the largest oysters I have ever seen, propped out front to draw in the kind of shallow people impressed by size. People like me, in fact.

I go for half a dozen ordinary number 4s (they’re graded by size, from fat 00s to tiny 6s, and in general, I think smaller shellfish have a better flavour) and one complete beast of a pied de cheval, or horse’s hoof. Come on, it had to be done!

People gather round murmuring in wonderment as the stallholder, who has opened the others as easily as a can of Coke, braces Monsieur Big against the back wall and sets about him with a chisel. ‘How old is he?’ I ask as he hammers away with gritted teeth. ‘Oh, about 15.’ Fifteen! I think. That’s the same age as my oldest nephew! When this animal was born (spawned?) I still naively thought I was going to have a proper job by 30.