Get the Best Mussels in Brussels


This post is a few months overdue, but Time doesn’t make it any less memorable. I was new to braces and the decision to visit Brussels was not the wisest one. Moules et frites (mussels and French fries) and crispy waffles, I could only stare at them with aching desire… or eat and cope with the sore teeth.

Au Vieux Bruxelle came to my rescue. Self-proclaimed the King of Mussels, they not only do wonderful moules et frites, but also the most tender stewed beef a wired girl could ever ask for. Maria kindly dropped us the name of this hidden gem. Key words were “best” and “not touristy”.

Q and I were there in a flash.


From the outside, Au Vieux Bruxelles was down-to-earth and local – wooden panel walls, a small space overstuffed with memorabilia dated since the 19th century and, iconic red and white chequered tablecloths. There was an older crowd and a flinty waitress who looked like she would launch an attack if we don’t finish the mussels.


Call me brave for clicking the camera shutter.

Sternly stare aside, I indulged in my Belgian beer unapologetically. I had one too many Krieks in Brussels. They must be the most genius creation in the world of brewery. It’s beer fermented with Morello cherries. How do you beat that!


Who knew I would have such profound connection with a glass of fermented beverage.

Moving on to the star of the dinner… the Moules and the Frites!

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It was so satisfyingly good I had to show you three similar pictures in a row. When its aroma wafted from the pot, ah….. the world suddenly became a better place.

But those joyful moments were always fleeting. I had to stop digging into them when my sore teeth called out for attention.

It was then I met my true love, that I would not stop thinking about until today.

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Perfectly shredded meat swimming in a pot of richly flavoured, tongue-searing gravy.

If I could only eat one thing throughout my braces-life, it would be this. #InsicknessInhealth #Tilldeathdousapart

This restaurant is located at Rue Saint Boniface. It’s not particularly close to the Grand Place, but if you take off your heels and cut back just about two pints of beer, I promise you that it would be quite a pleasant and worthy walk.

After the dinner, Maria and Christoph came to see us and took us to Le Poechenellekelder .

I know darling, don’t even try to decode this. It was just a tipsy Pocahontas writing her name. So, leave it.

It is a very quirky Belgian bar floridly filled with moving puppets and strategically located opposite the Manneken Pis. Otherwise known as the fun-sized urinating boy who is legendary in making tourists around the world flock to pose under his willy.

One of those tourists included me.

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The beer menu looked like pages out of a dictionary, except they were so much more enjoyable to read.

And different types of beer were served in different glasses to bring out their best flavour.

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Q and I hoarded about 10 Lambics in our luggage back to London. It was just too hard for me to resist.

Four of us chatted through the night with bouts of pints then moved on to Delirium for more.

I mean, after a long day of beer-drinking, it was only right to finish what we began.


With love x

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