Eight years. That’s how long it’s been since MasterChef winner Steven Edwards’s etch. crashed onto the city’s dining scene, plating up elaborate tasting menus to delight. In that time, etch. has earned an enviable reputation, the kind of restaurant people name-drop in hushed tones at dinner parties before urging you to go immediately.
If you follow etch on Instagram, you’ll know the deal: exquisitely presented dishes that guide you on a slow, sensual wander through the finest seasonal British produce, with Edwards’s signature flair woven through every course.
Now, though, there’s etch. Edit – a streamlined, fewer-courses affair designed for those who want the greatest hits album rather than the full box set. All the precision remains, all the creativity remains; the only thing reduced is the time commitment – a rare mercy in fine dining.
Below Deck, Booze
Before you even start eating, there’s the downstairs bar – a cavern of cocktails and local brews where some of Brighton’s finest fermenters, UnBarred and Gun Brewery, rub shoulders with slick signature mixes. If you’re new to etch. (as I was), it’s an excellent way to soften into the evening: drinks as appetisers for the main event. And they certainly know what they’re doing back there. One boulevardier later, I was primed and grinning for the show.
Snacks (But Not As You Know Them)
Forget Monster Munch, or Kettle Chips dusted in “artisan truffle flavour.” This is etch. – snacks arrive as jewel-like canapés: Billington Mushroom Tarts and Lord of the Hundreds Biscuits, tiny parcels of delicate indulgence. Edwards himself emerges from the open kitchen to serve them, smiling like a man who knows exactly how good they are.
The flavours? Intense. The tarts are unapologetically mushroomy; the biscuits unapologetically cheesy, each dissolving maximum taste to your palate. You realise, very quickly, that Edwards is on a quiet mission: not to show you more ingredients, but to squeeze more out of each one. One course in, and you’re already hooked.
Marmite Bread. Yes, Really.
Then comes the Marmite Bread – and frankly, I’d come back for this alone. Shaped like something fairies might picnic under, it’s warm, soft, and pulls apart in wisps of steam.
The accompanying seaweed butter is a vivid, almost-radioactive green, and when it hits the bread’s core, it melts into something otherworldly.
Sussex on a Plate
From here, things escalate. Hurst Farm Beetroot cases arrive next – translucent, jewel-toned parcels partnered with horseradish and coriander, striking the perfect chord between sweet earthiness and nasal-clearing bite.
Then comes a trio of headline acts: Stone Bass, Lamb Rump, and Scallop. The Bass, skin crisped like a late-summer tan, yields flesh so soft you could spread it on toast. The lamb, blushing pink at its heart, is lifted with fennel and peach. And the scallop? Hand-dived, obviously – etch. wouldn’t sully itself with anything less – interlaced with green tomato slices and smoked roe, a trinity of sweet, acidic, and smoky perfection.
Wines, Sweets, and Sweet Relief
Dessert on our visit was an Oakchurch Cherry number that might just ruin other puddings for you. There was brittle, there was sorbet, there was mousse – all playing off one another in a clever dance of sharp, bitter, sweet, and creamy.
The wine pairings are handled with the kind of unshowy brilliance that suggests deep expertise, with local bottles like Nyetimber starring proudly alongside European heavy hitters.
The Verdict
The etch. Edit menu is pitched as a “midweek treat,” “pre-theatre option,” or “time-conscious tasting,” which makes sense – but frankly, that’s underselling it. This isn’t a compromise; it’s an opportunity. A way to access some of the city’s sharpest cooking without committing to a full-blown culinary odyssey.
Steven Edwards and his team aren’t just putting food on plates; they’re staging theatre – the kind where every prop, every line, every beat lands exactly where it should. If you want to know what some of the best of Brighton & Hove tastes like right now, start here.
