THE singularity of Silo makes it an endlessly-compelling place to write about – if you can keep up with the fizzing mind of founder and head chef Douglas McMaster.

He chanced upon what has become one of the most talked-about places to eat in Brighton while on his way to the station with the intention of leaving town.

What exists some two years after opening is probably still a work in progress as far as Douglas’s uncompromising mission is concerned, though it is still feels miles ahead of its peers.

Few people were talking about zero waste restaurants before Silo opened, and there were plenty of cynical eyebrows arching over the apparent preposterousness of the idea. But with the help of a mega composter named Bertha – which is so hungry it can eat other restaurants’ waste too – Silo has got people talking about the possibility that perhaps, maybe, we don’t need to chuck so much stuff in the bin.

Another concept met with scoffs was Silo’s so-called pre-industrial food system, with everything made on site, often using often traditional methods. It was doubted exactly how this was possible or desirable, but Douglas stuck to the philosophy, with one of the most perfect examples being the complimentary pre-meal offering, bread and butter.

The bread is sourdough of course, a 48-hour proved mixture of ancient wheat and rye including amaretto and farrah milled on-site, which has a cascade of complex flavours. The hand-churned butter from Ringmer cream butter is seasoned with seaweed, and it’s hard to think how this staple could be improved.

Sustainability is an overused word, but it informs everything the business does. The plates are made from plastic bags. Coffee, cacao and new world wines are shipped over in a sail-powered pirate ship. Drinks are made from fermented fruits “intercepted” from the bin. And jellyfish, which are peskily abundant on British shores, have even made an unlikely appearance on the menu.

But as well as being strong on concept, Douglas also has a few tricks up his sleeve in the kitchen.

With so much going on – the coffee, the bakery, the brewery, brunch – the restaurant hasn’t always had the means to live up to its ambitions, not helped by snags in getting an evening licence in residential Upper Gardner Street.

But with a pedigree CV, most influentially a long stint at Fergus Henderson’s St John restaurant, Douglas always had lots to offer, particularly in the multi-course format.

Though you can order a-la-carte, there are two four-course set menus on our visit – a herbivore and an omnivore, which come in at a very reasonable £29 and £32 respectively.

Showing off his St John roots, piggy offcuts have always been a feature, and an opening dish of peas, grown up the road at Cuckfield’s Laines Organic Farm, uses scratchings for seasoning and texture. There’s a creaminess at the base of the plate, but it’s a wonderfully simple dish which relies on vivid freshness and the great age-old pea-pig combo.

Taking a more left field approach was the herbivore set opener. Tiny roast potatoes from Namayasai in Lewes apparently too small to sell mingle with same-sized blackcurrants from Laine’s. It was the kind of creative plateful which sounds unfathomable but was utterly delicious – as well as ticking boxes on zero waste and low food miles.

Another one to get excited about was the ox liver, which The Gourmand’s dining partner favourably described as like meat cream. Lovingly partnered with sweet damson, it was just about the most livery thing I’ve ever eaten – pushing that right sound of that offaly grey area between fantastic and overbearing. The Slovenian steel-aged red wine that came with it had a suggested symmetry with the irony liver.

Much more understated was the Sheffield Farm pork and parsnips, the aniseedy essence of the root coming puréed and crisped, and a fragrant foil for the milky, slow-poached pork.

With so many ideas flying around not everything is a resounding success and the deserts were perhaps the only mild let-down. Sea buckthorn has an acquired, bitter taste, but it was more the half-set texture it came at issue – though it was partly rescued a garnish of fragrant lemon thyme.

Service was as smooth as the hand-churned butter, the staff deeply knowledgeable about the food and wine.

We sit at the pass, which can seem a bit of a restaurant fad, though Silo’s is strung out across the width of the restaurant, making for welcome interaction with the kitchen, but also space to get lost in the food.

Silo doesn’t shy away from using revolutionary language and it’s mission does feel like a gastronomic rebellion against conventional thinking. Madcap though some of its ideas may seem, they are already sticking, and it is hard to argue with such undeniably positive progress.

Silo

Upper Gardner Street

Brighton

Food/drink - Five stars (out of five)

Restaurant - Five stars (out of five)

Service - Five stars (out of five)