etch. by Steven Edwards proves that quality food and affordability can coexist

From fine, marbled meats to ethically caught seafood and organic, sustainable produce, we know that fine dining costs, but quality and affordability is possible, and chef Steven Edwards nails it in his Brighton & Hove restaurant, etch.

Last month, I was invited to try etch.’s summer 2024 menu in Hove. My professional self doesn’t want to admit this, but my normal self – who struggles with London’s exorbitant costs and thrives by grocery store meal deals – that version of me lights up when I get press invites. Who doesn’t want to dress up and chow down on great food without worrying about rent?

Well at etch., that’s already the concept. With high-quality tasting menus for lower-than-expected costs, Steven Edwards makes fine dining as accessible as it is appetizing, specialising in local Modern British cuisine and offering five courses for £50, and seven for £75, for its summer 2024 menu.

“We could have lost potential guests because we were pushing our product and prices,” says the 2013 MasterChef: The Professionals winner via Zoom.

“We kept buying better and better ingredients, but that pushed the menu price up to £120. It was great, but you lose that accessibility from, for example, normal couples living in Brighton who want a nice meal. Now, I love the price point. I love the busyness of the restaurant. I love the food that we’re doing, and I love that guests are saying that it’s value for money.”

Etch. feels like an art gallery and restaurant wrapped into one. Walk in and you’re browsing the walls before the menu. One of the friendly hosts, or even Edwards, himself, will greet and guide you to etch.’s basement “speakeasy”, Ink. It’s dark, moody and enigmatically cool. Paintings by Ben Slow adorn matte black walls and melodic house music plays in the background while guests sip their poisons before dinner. I order the Tequila Mockingbird (tropical and strong) – and admire Slow’s work and how well it meshed with the music.

“There’s a painting in our private dining room by an artist called Magnus Gjoen,” Edwards says. “He worked with Vivienne Westwood and uses these textured images, but with a contemporary twist, like a light-meets-dark combination. It’s simplistic, but that’s how I want my food to look. I want it to be simple, but beautiful, natural and artistic at the same time.”

When it’s time to eat, I’m guided back up to the dining room and to the table across etch.’s open kitchen. I’m dazed (or probably tipsy), watching the chefs weave in and out of their spaces, perfecting their plates around the kitchen island, but am kindly snapped back to reality by Sam Weatherill, etch.’s knowledgable, award-winning sommelier. I ask him to show me what English wine is all about, so he pours a 2010 Nyetimber white – crisp, cool and earthy.

To pair, two canapes: a cheddar biscuit with crème fraiche that tastes exactly how I believe a sexy Cheeze-It would taste – light and creamy, and good as hell – and what looked like an elegant, mushroom-based maki roll.

Next, Edwards’ popular marmite brioche, hot and steamy, with a side of seaweed butter. The crust is glossy and crisp-thin, but rip off a piece, and inside … oh, the inside… is steamy, warm and fluffy. The ideal temperature for the seaweed butter to perfectly dissolve into the fluff. I try to save a bite in between each course.

A cold beet soup with horseradish ice cream and coriander. I hate beetroot, but I love this. It’s a light, refreshing game-changer for beet, with the coriander adding an extra layer of freshness (sorry soapy DNA friends) to the creative combination.

“Using herbs is one of my fortes,” Edward says. “They make food a lot fresher, cleaner, and it enables us to better showcase the ingredients we use.”

When the table is cleared, Weatherill returns with a Horsmonden dry white from Davenport Vineyards in Kent. It smells like apples and has a sweet finish.

“It’s quite a typical English wine, using grapes like Bacchus and Ortega, but it just has a lot more texture, structure and elegance,” explains Weatherill. “This one uses older vines, and 10% of the blend is aged in large oak, so that adds a little texture in the background and elevates the flavor. It’s just clever wine-making.”

Then, the crowd favourite hits the table, the Dippy Egg. Oh, Dippy Egg, you sweet, simple son of a bitch. An elevated take on soft-boiled eggs and toast (or “dippy eggs and soldiers,” as they say in the UK), Edwards remixed this breakfast with a large, golden duck egg, cooked for 62 minutes at 62 degrees, the ideal temperature for the yolk to become spreadable, more rich and intense in flavour, Edwards explains.

On the side, is a dense, rectangular block of heaven – a brioche soldier fried in duck fat. Take that greasy bastard and press it into the egg until it bursts liquid orange-gold. It’s gooey, drippy, sticky, messy and absolutely indulging.

Between these courses is a small, sexy beef tartare tart made with a shortcrust pastry that is immediately gobbled up; seabass with crispy skin and an English pea sauce; and a scallop served with green tomato, an optional dish, beautifully presented with dill and fennel (additional £18). I wish the sea plates had a bit more acidity or citrus, but being raised on Mexican-style mariscos (seafood), I might just be a citrus fiend.

The wine is catching up at this point and it’s a struggle to finish each plate, but we strive on. The second to last dish is a tender, pink, juicy lamb with fennel and ewes curd, which cuts through the flavour incredibly well. I’d say more, but the only drunk note I wrote was “holy fuck, wow”.

The final course is a dual effort between Edwards and longtime head chef, George Boarer, who’s also worked at etch. since its 2017 opening. I’m served a cherry sable biscuit topped with cherry diplomat cream, jam, fresh cherry bits and tarragon marzipan, served with a side of sheep’s yoghurt sorbet.

For the first time, Weatherill strays from England and travels to Hungary, pouring a vintage, 2019 Kikelet Tokaji Szamorodni Édes. It pairs great with the ice cream, which cuts through the acidity, and leaves you with a sweet, but subtle flavour without the gluttonous guilt.

“This dish combines George and I’s strengths,” Edwards said. “It’s become more refined over the years, and George has been responsible for that. I normally lay the food out more organically, but George loves the precision of it all, so we have a balance, but he took the dessert to the next level.”

That’s the cool thing about Edwards. Despite being the owner, he knows that etch.’s beating heart is his team, and he does damn well to assure they’re recognised for it, just as much as he assures each guest leaves exceptionally satisfied, both in flavour and value.

After leaving etch., myself, I can only assume that they are.