This little piggy went to market – and brought back a wood-flame grill for his kitchen.

A couple of weeks ago, on a Friday night, I went off to see a man about a pig. Specifically, a rusty pig. Specifically, the Rusty Pig, a cosy neighbourhood eatery on Oxford Street in West Leederville that opened a couple of months ago. Unfortunately, it didn't go as planned. The man – a member of the staff - informed me that there was no chance of a table for two with no booking. The unavoidable implication was that I was an idiot not to book in advance. You know what? Fair enough.

Take two. This time a Thursday night a couple of weeks later, with the benefit of a phone call ahead of time. Even then, the voice on the other end of the line - "Pete"- seemed hesitant. "Yeah… should be okay" was his response to my question about a table that evening, and only after a pregnant pause. Perhaps his hesitance was a put-on to affect an atmosphere of exclusivity; there were more than a few tables that remained free throughout our dinner. No matter though, I was just happy to get a seat.

Rusty Pig is helmed by Peter Morgan, a former Masterchef contestant whose experience away from the cameras includes stints at Adelaide's acclaimed Restaurant Orana, under Jock Zonfrillo (who will be appearing on the next season of Masterchef as a replacement for Gary/George/Matt), and Wildflower in Perth. Of all the culinary paths to go down after being on a cooking show, Morgan's would have to be on the more legit end of the spectrum. The name of the game at Rusty Pig is woodfire cooking – an enormous open-flame grill dominates the back corner of the compact dining room, just in front of the small kitchen. On our night, two chefs (one presumably Morgan himself – Pete from the phone?) and a single waitperson handle all duties. It feels like a local and homely affair.

***“…there are a few interesting turns”***

Fire baked bread ($8 a la carte) presented as five batons of dense bread, slick with oil and lamb fat. Each baton was smeared with a confit garlic clove, rich and satisfying and smoky from the grill. It's a foodie take on garlic bread, and it's good. Next up was corn ribs with chaat masala and a cheek of charred lemon ($10 a la carte). What the hell are corn ribs? It's a good question. Imagine taking a corn-on-the-cob, and slicing each side off, retaining just a little bit of cob to act like a backbone. Now you can eat the corn like it's meat on a rib, and that's exactly the idea here. The dish even comes with a small bowl for your discarded corn-cob-rib-bones. Kudos to Morgan for rubbing these corny ribs with butter and chaat masala. The aromatic Indian spice mix adds warmth and fragrance. Even if the flavour could have been turned up a notch, it's unusual and interesting enough to be a success. Clever.

From the get-go, one item on the menu piqued my interest: broccoli with ginger sauce and greek yoghurt ($15 a la carte). How would this work? I was thrilled when it came out as part of the chef's menu. A dissected broccoli, blackened and charred from the wood-grill, sat atop a mound of vibrant red ginger sauce that had a thick, peanut satay-like consistency. The whole thing was artfully criss-crossed with lines of tangy yoghurt. It was saucy as hell and incredibly moreish. The ginger sauce sang with those tart ginger notes; the yoghurt was fresh and clean and light, really lifting above the deep smoky flavours from the charred parts of the broccoli. My only criticism was that where the veg hadn't seen a lot of the flame, it was a bit crunchy – a downside to cooking raw vegetables over fire. As a whole though, the dish was great – who would've thought ginger and greek yoghurt could play so nicely together. Another example of innovation from Morgan and his crew.

***“…I was thrilled when it came out”***

Next was a free-range chicken, broken down into pieces and bathed in a romesco-esque red pepper coating – this time spicy and savoury with paprika and roasted red peppers ($26 a la carte). The bird was tender and cooked-throughout. A few scattered lengths of charred spring onion provided freshness, and chicken skin "crackling" was appropriately crisp and flavourful. Solid.

Mottainai lamb operates out of Lancelin, and thanks to their association with Sumich Carrots, the southern hemisphere's largest carrot producer, a large part of their lambs' diet is organic carrot by-product; pomace leftover from juicing carrots, and misshapen or otherwise unsaleable carrots. This diverts the carrot by-product from organic landfill, whilst producing high-quality, fat-marbled meat. At Rusty Pig, this delicious product is served scattered with macadamia dukkah and doused in a rich sweet date jus, alongside smooth labneh. It's a winner. The meat is blush-pink and succulent; the sticky jus smacking with Christmassy flavours. The labneh, a kind of Greek yoghurt, again operated to cut through the heavier parts of the plate. A stellar dish; restrained yet flavourful and perfectly portioned.

There's just one dessert – apple pie with bourbon vanilla ice-cream – which, although tempting, we passed on. The venue is licensed, and the wine list is suitably small – just five whites and five reds, a sparkling and a rosé. There's some interesting labels in the mix, and a couple of ciders and beers. I can't help but feel like Rusty Pig's inherent conciseness is its ultimate strength – its cards are firmly on the table. It's all about the food – which is simple, thoughtful and delicious. There's no bells and whistles and there doesn't need to be. It's a true hidden gem, in every sense of the word. Just phone ahead.

RUSTY PIG