Lindfield's new restaurant Le Flamant seems a hit with locals

You've got to offer something new to customers, grab their attention - and then hold it long enough to make them loyal patrons.

Doing this in a big city is one thing - but in a tiny village something else entirely.

READ MORE: New restaurant Le Flamant opens in Lindfield

Lindfield - describing itself on a sign as you enter as Sussex's best-kept village - is the setting of Jackson Heron and Felicity Moseley's newest venture Le Flamant (The Flamingo in French).

A bit of Brighton flows in their veins: Jackson was a sous chef at 64 degrees while Felicity, who is 19, honed her craft at Riddle and Finns before working at Michelin-rated Hide in Piccadilly.

The monochrome striped awning and window seats with half-curtains continues the Gallic theme its name hints at, and as you step inside the decor is a lovely hybrid of sleek and chic, while also being cozy and intimate.

The restaurant, which was previously a tearoom, has been redesigned by interior designer Taryn Driemeyer (Image: Le Flamant) The menu is minimalist as all "cool" eateries are nowadays, dishes described in a list of one-word ingredients. "Potato, romesco, hazelnuts" and "monkfish, pancetta, peas" for example.

Similarly, the menu needs an explanation; the dishes are organised in descending order of size, substance (and cost), ranging from £3 for almonds to £26 for lamb loin and belly.

They come out when they're ready, I'm told by my smiling host, and are designed to be shared, with three to four dishes each the recommended amount.

Unfortunately, I was riding solo, so to properly review the food (ahem) I had to be greedy and order five savoury plates.

What came out first was the delicious cheese selection, a Cornish blue, Comte and Baron Bigod, the UK's answer to Brie, with some lovely handmade Maldon salt crackers and trimmings.

For £9, it was a generous portion - and I'd say plenty for two (the next size up was £16 and could probably feed a family).

The Nutbourne tomatoes with burrata, basil and courgette (Image: NQ) It was swiftly followed by the burrata with Nutbourne tomatoes, marinated in vinegar and topped with a burrata and what, by a process of elimination, must have been a courgette crumb.

As I quickly dissembled the plateful, the charming dots of basil foam mixed with the vinegar to form an emerald sauce which made me rue the day I didn't get some bread.

It wasn't a ground-breaking dish, but not everything needs to be - and it was as good as any tomato salad I've ever had.

Beef tartar is a personal favourite, and something I always pick if it's on a menu.

While I happily devoured the plateful, it did leave me slightly wanting. The fried brioche was a great idea, but a little on the oily side, and I could have done with more shallots, more tang, to cut through the allium richness of the tender meat.

The pasta was very rich (Image: NQ) Next up were the tagliatelle with truffle, Parmesan and a golden egg yolk, and the lamb, served two ways - a blushing, filleted loin and a pinwheel of belly meat and stuffing - with salsa verde, jus and charred tenderstem broccoli.

The latter was artfully presented, swirls of purple and green, which made me loathe to eat it. But eat it I did, quite happily, the loin in particular being sublime.

The pasta was perfectly al-dente and the sauce incredibly rich - a bit of a challenge when I was already getting full.

It's a shame I did not show a bit more self-restraint with the tomato salad, because this would have been a great pairing.

A few elderflower presses to wash down these courses and I found room for dessert: a peach tart.

The peach tart (Image: NQ) A buttery-sweet granola was blanketed with creme diplomat and peach sauce before being crowned with a seared half of the fruit and tiny basil leaves.

Personal preference, but I picked these off, as pretty as they were to look at.

But what remained was still well-balanced, the sweet rubble and cream against the sharp peach flesh.

When my meal began at midday, I was the only diner - leaving me fearful the people of Lindfield might not have warmed up to Le Flamant yet.

But that thought proved totally false, as quickly enough each table filled up with the breadth of village society: ladies celebrating a birthday; two new mums catching up with their prams in tow; some well-seasoned diners looking to enjoy a lovely meal.

I overheard one customer remark to their dining partner: "This is the nicest place on the whole of the high street." High praise indeed.

Already, Le Flamant had a wonderful sense of community spirit - and I hope this flame burns for many years to come.