The Westerly - where pigs go if they've been very, very good
“Hey here’s a good picture for you,” says Jon Coomb, chef and co-owner of The Westerly in Reigate as he reaches up for a large industrial strength slotted spoon. Lowering the utensil 
into the depths of an enormous saucepan on the floor, he takes a good grip and starts to lift whatever’s inside. The spoon shaft bends, Jon adjusts his hold, and a white triangle breaks the surface like an iceberg coming up for air. Seconds later I can see it’s an ear and then, before I have a chance to run away screaming, a whole pig’s head comes into view. "It’s rather white," I say, more to distract myself than to make any sensible comment. “Well it would be,” says Jon cheerfully, letting Pinkie slip back down to the depths, “it’s been pickling in that brine for a little while.”
I’ve just eaten the result of this rather macabre prep in the form of a croquette made from pig’s head meat sat on a gribiche, and very good it was too. The complete opposite of the sight in the kitchen, it was delicate and refined with the gribiche perfectly complementing the crunchy, crispy croquette and the flavour-packed meat. In fact the whole meal was superb and better than most meals I’ve had in town in the last few months. This could put Reigate on the map when it comes to culinary destinations and I’m already planning a return visit.
Jon together with his wife Cynthia, who takes care of front of house, has only recently opened this place, but already they’ve received good notices. “Well we aren't that new we had a gastro pub, the Stephen Langton Inn, in the area before” he points out, “one of the first gastros outside London, and we were in the guides and all that and very busy at weekends, but Tuesday and Wednesday were quiet and you had to accept that. And we learnt that you have to evolve, not just jump in with expensive food. Even Heston Blumenthal started off simple before becoming a mad scientist, bless him.”
Jon sources as much as he can locally; the meat comes from literally over the road from a butchers that has been there since time began. He’s not afraid to use the bits others shy away from either, such as kidneys, sweetbreads and that fearsome pig’s head, because the presentation takes away any shock, the raw ingredient price makes sense and the flavour just sings out. And even a vegetarian can enjoy Jon's food with dishes like the beautiful beetroot ravioli that was on for lunch the day we went down. This sort of cooking has earned Soho’s Arbutus a Michelin star, here it’s earning Jon loads of repeat business. So is a star what he wants?
“Where we were before, in Abinger,” he says, “ the local fancy place Drake’s on the Pond had a Michelin star with the star groupies coming round to eat, but they aren’twhat you'd call regulars, they aren’t coming back and coming back is what makes the money. The locals have to be your regulars and that means giving them what they want. The star is no guarantee of income. If it comes that’s great, but you have to move toward it, not start up all flash and almost demand it.”
Jon actually comes from Reigate himself and found this restaurant, formerly called ‘Sweet Potato’ just right for his new venture. He sees my face and laughs, “Yeh Sweet Potato, that’s right, but it wasn’t a Caribbean restaurant though. The owner turned it from a run down curry house and did a load of stuff to it but it wasn’t really finished off all that well. Turquoise walls, for example. His food was all about loads of sausages and it never quite worked and he was trying to do eighty covers a night whereas we stick at forty, that’s our quality limit and we don’t go past that.”
Jon knows about quality, a big bloke who prefers T-shirt and apron to chef whites, and with the glowing tattoos of a serious biker, he’s worked in some top places in his time including Mirabelle, L'Odeon, The Chiswick and Snows on the Green before taking over the aforementioned Stephan Langton in 2000. His wife Cynthia has a degree in Catering and Hotel Management and has worked as restaurant manager at the Langham Hilton and The Chiswick They’re a professional team and it shows both in the service and in the way Jon cooks; calmly and quietly and with no banging and crashing, swearing or shouting.
The same calm applies to the menu, there’s no ‘Spring greens lovingly plucked from the pure earth of Somerset and tenderly poached’ rubbish. The menu tells you what the dish is, no more and no less. “Well many of the people we’ve worked for were believers in a no-nonsense, rustic based menu.’Jon points out. “The bottom line is that I don’t cook with aesthetics in mind. How it looks on the plate is the last thing that I think about, not the first. Although I do know that looks can sell, especially in Surrey,” he laughs.
Well Jon and Cynthia don’t need to worry about that side of things, the food does look good but in an ‘I want to eat that’, not ‘how do I eat that?’ way. Service is smiling and efficient and with wines served by bottle, carafe and Pot Lyonnais from a sane wine list prepared by Surrey wine merchants Les Caves de Pyrene, it’s also very easy to settle down and enjoy what’s coming. I predict a steady flow of people coming out of London and heading Westerly.
Words: Nick Harman
Pictures: Al Stuart
