When batting away the sharp elbows at the street food market and clambering over all those sacks of freshly-milled sourdough flour, it is sometimes easy to forget about the very people who taught us about cookery in the first place.

I don’t mean your mother or grandmother - though the Gourmand’s were both formidable in the kitchen.

I’m talking about the French, our exotic cousins who we love to hate, but actually want to be (and also lust after, and live happily ever after with).

Still, its reassuring to know that when faced with an endless barrage of trends and openings, the mother of gastronomy just carries on unperturbed, without so much of a Gallic shrug.

The handful of French bistros we have in Brighton and Hove are decent enough, but they can tend to wheel out the old creaky classics like steak au poivre and coq au vin.

Perhaps its down to the fact the British are instinctively more at ease in a curry house, with a certain amount of pent-over chippiness over French restaurants.

A modern and unpretentious example is Mange Tout (as well its sister restaurant Plateau), an established case of how to boost appeal by borrowing the buzz of wine bar.

It bears none of the hallmarks of the traditional Parisian bistro. Getting the stereotypes out of the way, the waiting staff are friendly, with an assured, artisanal approach to hospitality, which the French do so well.

The boxy dining room is dynamic and chic, with uplighting, olive greens and greys opening it up.

The menu is smattered with Gallic classics such as French onion soup and frangipane, but overall it is more of a pan-European affair, an Interrailing backpacker with particular fondness for Iberia.

And the food is by and large absolutely delicious.

The pork and clam stew, better known as porco à alentejana may be a Portuguese classic, yet the combination still feels very naughty. In what other situation would the two ever co-mingle?

It's hardly surprising the sludge dwelling hog and stomach-turning shellfish fell foul of religious law given the Middle Age’s lack of refrigerators, it’s an Old Testament nightmare.

But together in a bowl they form an unholy marriage of perverted pleasure, the shellfish perfuming the light broth and soft, gamey flesh.

Also incredible was a main of halibut with a vibrant garnish of olives, cornichons, tomatoes and clams. The Mediterranean punch was a fine match for the hefty portion of fish, which was just about as a good a mouthful as The Gourmand can imagine. It was just a shame the first attempt was overdone to the texture of candy floss and had to be sent back.

Artfully twirling pieces of squid with chorizo and piquillo red pepper evoked the great tapas bars of Grenada - though the stingy crisps of chorizo lacked their famous spirit of generosity.

Most disappointing was the top billed French onion soup, a pallid imitation of its former self. An overwhelming layer of gooey cheese tasted more like mozzarella than gruyere and crispy croutons were quickly sodden in the thin soup, which had none of the meaty depth the dish is famous for.

Its only plus point was it did taste of onions and white wine.

There was a sneaking suspicion the desserts of this French bistro would be high level and it was right.

The marriage of dark fruits and chocolate is generally a magnificent one, and our plum and chocolate tart was a delight - deep and indulgent.

Cheesecake and poached plums was totally reimagined, with a fresh dollops of whipped cheese sprinkled with a biscuit crumble, and delicately spiced poached pear.

Both a joy to eat after two courses.

For a French restaurant the wine list was surprisingly short, with just three reds, three whites and three roses. Nor were there any digestifs. Perhaps a more concise selection is no bad thing - but this minimal selection would struggle to satisfy everyone. Still, our organic new-age Rioja was a fine match for everything, particularly the Iberian accented dishes.

It certainly worth mentioning outside of evening service Mange Tout also does a mouth-watering interpretation of the fried breakfast, cheekily called the complet and an amazing eggs Benedict. Snails and mussels are also on the lunch menu.

* The Gourmand pays for all his own meals