AMONG other less flattering things, Brighton is often described as the veggie capital of the UK.

So it's perhaps not surprising the city is pretty well served when it comes to vegetarian food.

Terre à Terre remains the undisputed champion, producing some of the best food in the city for an impressive 23 years, vegetarian or not.

Food for Friends is another firm favourite which can make even militant carnivores forget their flesh fetish.

And then there's popular pub the Prince George, the excellent canteens of Ideaya and its fine dining sister restaurant Rootcandi among others.

Entering the fray is 1847, the fourth in a small but fast-growing chain of vegetarian restaurants founded in Manchester by Damien Davenport.

Named after the year the Vegetarian Society was founded, the branding and interior is stylish and modern with soft greys and wooden panels.

But initial appearances aside, our experience was marred by sub-standard service.

The ground-floor dining room felt vibrant and well-looked after, but upstairs - aside from some sleek yellow booths - was pretty soulless, grimly lit and apparently serviced by the front of house B-team.

A pair of confusing menus were plonked on our table with no explanation. One was apparently for specials menu, the other regular, though this was about as clear as beetroot juice.

Our waitress was unable to answer basic questions about the food, and was not sufficiently concerned to ask anyone else.

It may seem harsh to single her out, but what it really reflected was a careless management which had put an under-trained member of staff in role they were unable to fulfil.

One hyped feature of 1847 Brighton’s sprawling four-storey site is its basement bar Dandelion, with a range of its own ‘botanically based’ cocktails.

The Gourmand tried The Star – a mix of French aniseed aperitif pastis, and rhubarb puree. The two work together in cookery, so it seems a safe punt for a drink, but it was unbearably sweet and strangely lacking in booze. Pastis is already pretty sweet, but the rhubarb had more sugar added, leaving a weird Lilt-like result.

Their take on a Martini included Sussex’s own Blackdown vodka – though you wouldn’t have known it from the the overpowering lemon syrup. Again for such as short drink, it was very shy with the booze, like an alcohol-free lemonchello.

For starters, a flaky tartlet of red onion had all the familiar elements of a tasty canapé staple. But it was sat on shredded red cabbage completely overwhelmed by vinegar and sugar.

Better was a grilled globe artichoke with blue cheese dip, even though the fashion for serving them whole with inedible leaves makes for a bit of a faff.

A soufflé for main was executed well, and was light and fluffy, but blobbed with a bitter garlic puree. It came with a small forest of tenderstem broccoli, untrimmed, woody and watery from the cooking.

The arancini main course was pretty decent. Three bulbous balls of risotto rice, flecked with garlic and black truffle made for a hearty eat. But rather than the logical tomato sauce and cheese, the same vinegary red cabbage made an unwelcome reappearance.

A white chocolate fondant for desert was Ok - but it had none of the goo of a fondant. Closer to a WI sponge cake, it was nice but dull.

Over all, 1847 felt like a bit of a swizz. Marketing itself as a high-end restaurant, you might reasonably expect a high-end level of service and food. Adequately staffed but stretched over the two floors, the only time a manager showed his face was to take our money and ask if "everything was ok".

Other branches have been well received by people who should know, so it could be Brighton needs a longer to bed in. But after three months you would expect much better.

It seems implausible this was the same quality as the original Manchester restaurant. The fact a sixth restaurant opened days after Brighton's launch says a lot about its aggressive expansion, with standards the inevitable casualty.