It's 8.30pm on a warm summery midweek evening, the sun is taking its time to set behind the ailing West Pier, and Brighton is out for the night. Silhouetted groups of people are gathered on the beach, drumming, chatting, looking out to sea.

Lovers stroll on the vast sandy stretch the tide has left behind, and dogs chase sticks into limp waves. We wander down the beach towards Brighton Pier, past the drummers and the lovers and look for food.

These days, you'll find plenty of burgers and fish and chips even in the smartest bars on the seafront, but stray off the path a little and head back into the warren of streets that are marking Brighton's restaurants out on the national stage.