Three and a half years ago Dave Radtke and his partner Vicky left Brighton to live on a smallholding near Lewes.

They moved to find the good life, presumably, but fell in love with pigs.

The romance means the bar-cum-restaurant they run in Seven Dials, The Tin Drum, has been rebranded as a charcuterie.

The facade has been painted blood red and in big golden letters a sign above the window beams “charcuterie” like a lighthouse signal to Brighton’s army of vegetarians.

The couple’s daughter, Rose, has been installed – country etiquette means everyone mucks in – as the bar’s general manager.

She says any of the herbivores who’ve propped up the bar chewing the cud for the last few years shouldn’t be worried.

“We are still thinking about the vegetarian side of things. We still cater for vegetarians. We’ve not forgotten them.”

They might not have to.

The meat dangling behind the bar has been cured by hand by Vicky and Dave on its return from Tottingworth abattoir. It’s dried, preserved and filled full of flavours, then turned into tender delicacies inspired by Europe: jambon de campagne, garlic saucisson, Tuscanstyle salami.

The results might even tempt vegetarians into having a taste.

The new layout – Dave ripped out the bar and rebuilt another one himself because he wanted to add more theatre – means food is now served from the bar, which doubles as a deli counter where you can buy meats to take away.

He will not have the design compared with a tapas bar. It is, rather, the couple’s take on a lifetime of cultural and culinary influences. He wants the place to reflect what he believes are changing national eating habits.

“People are starting to find a three-course meal too pricey. They are moving towards more informal, tapas-style eating.”

The couple’s journey to the country has inadvertently helped them react to the changing market.

“You need to keep up or die,” says Dave, following revamps at Good Companions and Foggs nearby, and the closure of KempTown’s Tin Drum.

They never planned to supply meat to the bar but “learning about meat has been a lifelong passion and hobby”.

“We have studied it – we both did a course at Plumpton College. We now have a maximum of six pigs on the farm at any one time.”

The pigs – reared outdoors according to what the French used to call the labour of months: working within the seasons to rear, preserve and eat – are sent to be killed before winter sets in.

“I didn’t know how I was going to feel when that first one went,” admits Dave, “but I knew it had had the best life possible.”

“They become big, feisty, uncontrollable beasts and we soon realised we would not be able to keep them over the winter if we wanted to rear them outside.”

Good charcuterie (a French termoriginally used to describe the way meat was preserved but now as much about the flavour) starts with happy animals.

“If people are going to eat meat,” says Dave, “it’s better they eat meat that has been reared humanely compared with factory farming in the Netherlands.”

There is no history of charcuterie in this country, perhaps because of freezers or culture, but there is certainly a taste for its products.

When Vicky goes to Lewes market everything they make is sold. The farm-to-shop approach at Tin Drum – not just meat but also vegetables and herbs – is a rarity, especially because their meat is home-grown. But it fits with the charcuterie tradition of using every scrap of pig meat from nose to tail.

And, most of all, our current obsession with wanting to know where everything we eat comes from.

* Open daily from 10am to midnight. Dishes from £3.50. Call 01273 777575.