Saké Restaurant and Bar, The Rocks, Sydney

“I got us seats at the counter,” JM said, “So you can watch the chefs at work.” This proved to be an excellent idea – I had a great time watching the chefs cooking and assembling the dishes throughout the evening in the open kitchen right in front of me. I love watching anyone doing a job with skill, creativity and passion, and watching chefs work is no exception – they could be making chocolate mousse quenelles, butchering steaks off an enormous hunk of beef, or delicately garnishing a platter of sashimi with such care and concentration you can’t help but watch with fascination and admiration. I couldn’t always see everything the chefs were actually doing with their hands, but watching their facial expressions it was clear they were busy but enjoying their work. The people sitting at the restaurant tables behind us looked like they were having a great time, but I loved being at the counter where I could watch the busy kitchen. I’d be tempted to sit at the counter again, should I return for another meal in future.

On one of the walls of the restaurant as you walk in is a striking display of hand-painted saké barrels, and of course, at a restaurant and bar named Saké you can try all kinds of saké. The staff are knowledgeable and happy to make recommendations for a drink at the bar, pre-dinner drinks or to match the dishes you have ordered for dinner. I’m a non-drinker but had to try saké at least once (how could I not, at a restaurant named Saké?) – I must say I liked it more than wine made from grapes. It’s very strong though, and I would’ve had to lie down for a sleep had I drunk much more! I was firmly focused on my goal – I was here to eat, eat and then eat! And take lots of photos!

I’d already drooled over the menu – multiple times in fact – back in Perth before this trip. But now, as I sat at the counter, unfolded the menu and thought about what to order to eat tonight, I felt very excited. After a little discussion, we ordered a number of dishes to share. I was sitting in the middle, Jaded on my left, JM on my right. I was in the prime spot for eating and photographing each dish as it was placed before us.

My sister couldn’t believe I hadn’t eaten soft shell crab before! First to arrive was the spider maki sushi, made with fried soft shell crab, cucumber and mayo, garnished with spicy tobiko (the bright orange flying fish roe generously studding the outside of the sushi), chives and ponzu (AU$10 hand rolls, $17 cut rolls – we chose the cut rolls).

Almost at the same time came the salt and pepper tofu (AU$11). The deep-fried cubes of tofu were crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, garnished with finely sliced spring onion and wispy tendrils of roasted chilli.

I enjoyed the chewiness of the battered soft shell crab in the seasoned sushi rice, a joy to eat with the crisp fresh cucumber and generous splodge of creamy mayo that goes so well with any deep-fried foods. I’m soft shell crab’s newest fan, and I’d definitely have this sushi again. The tofu was a perfect mouthful, but so hot I had to eat it in two bites for fear of burning my tongue before I’d barely begun.

We ordered a sashimi selection, and this is what we received: back row L-R – kingfish, tuna, salmon; front row L-R – mackerel, scallop, squid, snapper. Three pieces of each kind of seafood, for the three of us. So here’s the thing – I think I actually quite like sashimi if it’s been sliced thinly, which the kingfish and the snapper were. I ate a piece of each of those and thought they were delicious. The sashimi that is most plentiful back in Perth is tuna and salmon, which are usually quite thickly cut compared to the kingfish and snapper, and I’d based my judgement of sashimi on my dislike for tuna and salmon sashimi. So there you go! I’m a fussy sashimi eater who prefers my sashimi thinly sliced. Oh – but one beautiful exception to the thin/thick sashimi theory: scallops! The scallop I ate was fleshy, moist, soft, sweet and absolutely heavenly.

The panko rice balls (AU$10) were served freshly deepfried, poppingly hot and irresistibly crunchy, with a deliciously velvety bitey wasabi aioli for dipping.

In the tasty sushi rice filling beneath that crunchy coating were bamboo, bright green pieces of soy bean, and tiny but flavoursome bits of shitake mushroom. Once again I had to resist eating this deep-fried morsel in one bite, as it was so fresh and mouth-burningly hot. It’s funny to think that wasabi mayo can cool anything down, but it did, mostly because of its creaminess (but yes, with a wasabi-hot finish!).

The menu offers six different varieties of kushiagi, panko-coated fried skewers – and as a lover of all things crumbed and deep-fried, they all sounded appealing to me: pork and onion, salmon and avocado, chicken and spring onion roll, prawn, and even the plain and simple asparagus. But as soon as I saw the magic words – lotus root – I wanted to try the lotus root and minced prawn kushiage (AU$5 per two skewers). I love lotus root, but it’s rare to find it on a menu when dining out as so few places use it, whether as a main ingredient or even just as a garnish. The lotus root and minced prawn kushiage were served on skewers like lollipops (but even better – savoury, crunchy, lotus root lollipops!), drizzled with barbecue sauce, with a (sorry, I have to say this – though thinking this didn’t put me off at all!) a plump cat poo-like blob of hot mustard, garnished with a sprinkling of finely chopped fresh chives. Maybe I’m strange, but the mustard’s strong resemblance to one of my favourite game characters, Poo Poo Santiago, made me smile and like the presentation of the dish even more – lollipops and cat poo mustard giving me something like a naughty child’s secret pleasure.

The minced prawn had been cleverly stuffed into the holes of the lotus root. If you haven’t eaten lotus root before, it doesn’t have a very strong flavour – you’d be hard-pressed to pick out the flavour of lotus root in a blind taste test – but the pleasure in eating it, and what you’ll remember about it, comes in its texture. The closest thing I could compare the texture of the deep-fried lotus root to would be water chestnut, though it’s not exactly the same – I don’t think lotus root is quite as crisp as water chestnut. When I was a child, my grandma used to make soup with lotus root and pork ribs, and in soup the texture is slightly different again. Sometimes you’ll find lotus root sliced thinly and deep-fried like chips and used as a garnish, and again, in that form it is completely different in taste and texture. All are worth trying, especially if you, like me, gain a great deal of pleasure in the feel and texture of the food you eat.

We also ordered a serve of miso-butterfish (AU$25) – a filet of butterfish, marinated in miso, then grilled and served with pickled radish. The fish came with a spoon, which we used to serve ourselves pieces of the fish. The outside of the fish was coated in the savoury-sweet brown miso glaze (with more glaze splashed tantalisingly across the platter) that would’ve been plate-lickingly good, had I been alone. It’s quite a salty glaze and would go very well with steamed rice. The flesh of the butterfish was radiantly white, soft, moist and meaty. And who could resist, who could not fall in love with a fish with a name like “butterfish”? (I would also probably fall head over heels in love with a fish named “baconfish”). JM told me the butterfish was specifically chosen not only because it is delicious, but because it is a sustainable fish. Sustainable, delicious, and with a name featuring the word “butter” – what’s not to love? There is also a hot starter dish on the menu that sounds divine and cute at the same time – butterfish lettuce cups (AU$12).

My sister told me the popcorn shrimp (AU$26) was a must-try and I was only to eager to give it a go. Oh my goodness! The bite-sized prawn tempura pieces were coated with creamy spicy chilli mayo and were so moreish I couldn’t stop eating them. Even when I started feeling full, I was couldn’t resist eating another piece, and then another piece… and another, until the bowl was empty. Yes, it was me who ate the last four pieces of popcorn shrimp, one by one, while the others were talking. And not a single salad leaf remained, either – it was all devoured and much appreciated.

The desserts were simply superb. The mille feuille was carefully divided into three and enthusiastically demolished. I couldn’t stop eating the pannacotta and chewing on the toasted coconut (it was right in front of me, and I had a spoon in my hand! How could I resist?), and I made sure that not a single chocolatey red bean was left behind on the plate.