Given there appears to be little in this life which can’t be made subject of intense partisan bickering online, it’s a wonder that small plates dining hasn’t found itself opened up as a fresh front in the incessant culture wars of our age.

It’s not as though the seemingly unstoppable rise of this style of eating has not prompted a backlash in some quarters, at least among those who purport to care enough about such things to affect a stance on it. A quick Google search for ‘small plates tyranny’ throws up plenty of think-pieces bemoaning, among other things, “the downsizing of meat and two veg” and the difficulty in splitting “two prawns five ways”.

Add to this the fact that the very concept of small plates has the distinct whiff of the foreign, an import from the Continent that strikes against every Englishman’s birthright of huge plates piled high with overdone meat and root vegetables boiled to within an inch of their life, and it seems implausible that some online rent-a-gob hasn’t struck up a campaign for tapas and all subsequent derivatives to be outlawed. Perhaps I am just not following the right people.

Anyway, to Margate, where earlier this year business partners Ryan Jacovides and Tony Rodd opened Pomus, which they describe as “a neighbourhood restaurant, wine bar, bottle shop and pantry supply store”.

Pulling up a stool at the counter overlooking the open kitchen, a glance at the menu – described on their website as “low-waste and inclusive” – confirms instantly which side of the small plates divide they are flying the flag for. There are but two items listed as ‘large plates’, with almost everything else on offer categorised as either ‘snacks’, ‘small plates’ or ‘extras’.

If the menu is offering up a little bit of everything, then so is the venue itself. It’s a long, narrow room with intimate tables down one side, and a long bar overlooking the kitchen down the other. It’s still relatively early on a Saturday evening, and later we overhear Tony and his staff chit-chatting about whether they had expected to be busier, but the vibe is spot on. The place is buzzing nicely, the playlist is eclectically excellent, and we’re excited to try as many of these small plates as possible.

After selecting a bottle of a rather fine Lebanese rosé, we kick things off with two ‘snacks’: the pork belly and the chicken karaage (both £6). I’m instantly smitten. The double-fried chicken speaks directly to my inner child, who still believes chicken nuggets to be one of the greatest culinary delights ever conceived of. But this dish is properly grown-up, with the sweetness of the maple syrup playing off perfectly against the salt and subtle heat of the togarashi, a Japanese spice mix.

The ginger and lemongrass pork belly is equally impressive. My dining partner, whose palate is far more sophisticated than that belonging to this unreconstructed nugget aficionado, notes the umami depths of flavour and hails the textural balance of meat and fat, describing the dish as the “pork belly of dreams”.

Excited by what we’ve been served up so far, we move on to a pairing of one ‘small plate’ with one of the extras: grilled langoustines (£16) and the pomme dauphine (£6). The langoustines are cooked perfectly, and served with fennel that has been reduced, amplifying the flavour, a sprightly cucumber ketchup and XO sauce, a Chinese condiment which originated in Hong Kong. The pomme dauphine – little balls of mashed potato, served here with a sour cream and chive dip – are equally pleasing, the creamy mash inside encased by an incredibly fine and delicate golden brown crust.

We’re taking a little breather between each round of food, enjoying our wine and Tony’s easy-going hospitality. Perhaps the kitchen had hoped to be busier, but the moments between sudden bursts of activity are a blessing for us as we get to speak with the guys who are crafting our meal, enquiring about certain ingredients and techniques as well as swapping tips on places to eat along the Kent coast.

In previous reviews I’ve stated my preference for a counter seat wherever cooking is being done in sight of the diners, and our visit to Pomus is illustrative of how this can add a whole new dimension to the overall experience.

Tony, who was a finalist in the TV cooking contest MasterChef back in 2015, certainly seems delighted with our desire to sample as much of the menu as possible, and we’re determined not to let him down. Two of the ‘small plates’ catch our eyes next, the venison carpaccio (£14) and the torched mackerel (£15).

The finely-sliced venison is served with nduja, capers and anchovy mayo, all topped off with the most delicate shoestring fries. We are warned that the nduja – a spreadable pork sausage from the Calabria region of Italy – may have a bit of a kick (feedback from previous diners, we are told) but it’s nothing to be feared, delivering a quite subtle kick in the mix with the other ingredients. The Italian vibe is only added to by the anchovy mayo, combining with the venison to bring to mind the classic flavours of vitello tonnato.

We’re getting more Nordic vibes with the mackerel, served as charred fillets and a rillette, with blackcurrants, beetroot and dill. As with everything we have tried so far, the flavours and textures are wonderful. The beetroot supplying the crunch alongside the creamy rillette, the blackcurrants delivering sweet and sour simultaneously.

Such is the comfort of the well-upholstered bar stools, and the relaxed conviviality of the evening so far, we plump for a second bottle of wine. Would be rude not to, especially when you have no particular place to be on what feels like the first Saturday of summer. After a little consultation with Ryan, we opt for an Australian Riesling which we are advised – correctly – will pair well with anything else on the menu we’d like to try.

The wine certainly plays nicely with the grilled peach (£6), served up with green beans, burrata and almonds. We marvel slightly at the beans, cooked just long enough to retain a proper ‘snap’ and wonderfully sweet.

Lots of small dishes soon add up to one big meal, and by this point we are beginning to feel sated. But with half a bottle of wine to polish off, and an hour or so before our train home, we can’t resist ordering just one more round of the chicken karaage. My inner child can be a greedy so-and-so when given the opportunity, and this fried chicken alone is probably enough to tempt me back here again.

Tony, Ryan and their lovely team are doing something wonderful here at Pomus, that’s for sure. The emphasis on small plates means this is just as much a place to pop in for one drink and a small bite as it is to come and have an hours-long blowout feast. The vibes are good, the welcome is warm and the cooking excellent. I can’t see small plates dining sparking a culture war anytime soon, but with these guys on the side of righteousness I think I know who’ll be winning if it does.

Ratings out of five:

Food: Tony and his accomplice in the kitchen did not put a foot wrong. Quality ingredients, inventive dishes, just excellent all round *****

Drink: Can have no complaints about either of the wines we tried, and it wouldn’t take much arm-twisting to return to sample some cocktails next time ****

Decor: Really nicely done, comfortable bar stools a wise investment if you want to encourage people to linger for one more glass ****

Staff: The warmest of welcome from the entire team, the willingness of the chaps in the kitchen to engage with the diners made the evening all the more special *****

Price: Small plates can sometimes be criticised for providing too little bang for your buck, but overall I’d say everything here was fairly priced ***