The omakase has triumphantly returned to Sokyo at the Star, after the restaurant unveiled a refreshed fit out and a revised approach last year, which revolves around the notion of making each meal a ceremonial experience. Omakase, the set tasting menu style of dining, has recently become a staple of the Sydney dining scene, and attention to detail is the absolute key.
There is an old adage in the restaurant world: you notice good service, but you don’t notice great service. The team at Sokyo’s omakase, led by executive chef Chase Kojima and head chef Sanghyeop Kim, are quietly paying attention. The results are truly great. You may not notice that along the bar of spectators, five nigiri are presented slanting to the left, while one lone soldier faces the right, because that diner is left-handed. It may fly under the radar that the eyes of every chef along the bar is studying every reaction or adjusting portion sizes if someone mentions they skipped lunch.
What you will notice, however, is that what is traditionally a sombre and respectful chef-to-diner experience is full of jokes, laughter and a chef ready to pose with his impossibly sharp sashimi bōchō knives as guests along the bar whip their phones out for posterity (and double taps).
Available to just six guests per night from Monday to Thursday, the menu varies daily and is adjusted to suit seasonality, a harmonious element that has thankfully become the norm across our town. Anywhere from 19 to 24 courses are paced out across the sitting, with the lucky half dozen guests being treated to highlights of a part-wonton-part-ravioli of scallop with a rich butter and dashi sauce. Black lipped abalone is simmered for 12 hours and served on a nori and abalone liver salsa verde. An unconventional but entirely welcome King George whiting sando arrives next, dressed with garlic aioli, followed by a bite-sized fillet on toasted ciabatta that tastes just like prawn toast, a comment which elicits a knowing wink from Kim.
A hand roll comes by way of a nori so crisp it shatters, contrasting with the super smooth tuna puree that has been piped into the tube before your eyes, reminiscent of a savoury riff on cannoli. A confronting mental hurdle but the payoff is worth the leap.
Things wrap up with a palate cleanser of mandarin sorbet before a Nikka whisky infused tiramisu with almond dacquoise is presented in a cappuccino cup. Retro? Perhaps. Delicious? You betcha.
One of the best elements of a dinner at the omakase bar is that while, of course, the theatre of watching your meal coming to life in front of you is something to behold, the interaction between those that cook and those that feast is the essence of hospitality. What could be more intimate than the very human act of sharing your food and your craft with another? Throw in a few educational stories about tuna ribs, and the coveted tuna belly (don’t ask how much it costs), and Sydney's recent boom in omakase restaurants is resoundingly clear.