‘It’s all about the nigiri’: Bronte’s newest catch serves some of the best cut-above sushi

A word on the cutest ice-cream sandwich that ever landed on a table. Two perfect, puffy rice wafers shaped like scallop shells sandwich a scoop of vanilla ice-cream squiggled with bittersweet hojicha caramel. It looks like a mermaid dream house.

Actually, this whole restaurant, built in a deco-era shopfront in various shades of blush and peach, looks like a mermaid dream house. Between the stucco ceiling and walls decorated by Sydney artist Nix Francia, it feels a little like dining inside a piece of coral.

There are a couple of murals around the room, but one in particular catches my eye. It features a napping lady, nude apart from a pair of fishnet stockings, being embraced by an octopus, the tentacles maintaining her modesty like a sort of PG-rated version of Hokusai’s shunga work. (Sidebar: if you want the adults-only depiction of the Japanese artist’s 1814 masterpiece, there’s a more realistic decal of The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife out by the loos.)

So this is Fishnets, Bronte’s newest catch, just 400 metres down the road from Euro-focused Table Manners – owner Alex Cameron’s first place. Here, though, the focus is demi-fine Japanese food served with coastal ease. A combination of careful cooking thanks to chef Sanghyeop Kim (formerly of Sokyo’s omakase counter at The Star) and energetic, friendly, personal service.

Bronte is on board – the dining room is completely full at 2pm on a cool, blustery Sunday. It has to be a pretty sweet spot for Kim to land in after eight years of working in a casino, where the beach is a quick stroll down the hill and the whole suburb smells like the sea.

To start, there’s an ultra-luxe spring roll that explodes on impact, filled with silky-sweet scallop and prawn meat. A couple of (very salty!) chicken wing yakitori skewers are seasoned with a house-made Japanese spice mix and topped with some beautiful chive work. Nicely charred, very evenly cooked and insanely juicy. And a squeeze of lime helps temper the enthusiastic seasoning.

On the other end of the spectrum, the lamb cutlet, masterfully grilled with a nice, even rosy interior, is slightly underseasoned. Perhaps it’s a deliberate move – those cutlets share the plate with Japanese eggplant slathered in a highly sticky, concentrated miso.

There are plenty of blue chip touches on the menu, if you swing that way. A $180 wagyu tasting plate, say, or a $115 tuna katsu. That’s a 500 gram piece of brined bluefin or yellowfin tuna (depending on the season), crumbed and flash fried and served with cabbage, katsu sauce and condiments.

But for my dime, it’s all about the nigiri. The nice thing about Kim’s sushi here is that it’s available to everyone – not just a select few who have the patience and money to book months ahead for an omakase experience.

I’d cross town for the perfectly seasoned rice, each grain just held together and perfectly formed, painted ever-so-gently in wasabi. Then there’s the fish. There are 13 varieties on offer when I visit, each fine sliver beautifully prepared and seasonally specific.

Speckled blue grouper is firm, sweet, mild and slightly fatty. Deep orange slices of ocean trout have immense depth of flavour and a creaminess, almost like a different animal. Also order the tuna while it’s still in season: there’s the slightly leaner chutoro from the upper part of the belly and otoro – the underbelly of the fish and Rolls-Royce of tuna cuts.

To drink, there’s a very solid range of sake and beer including Kirin and Yulli’s Karaoke Kingu rice lager along with a good no-and-low alcohol program including booze-free Asahi. I’m driving, so I stick with nutty, tannic green rice tea. But if I wasn’t, I’d be digging deep into that wine list, packed with white and red burgundy.

What really sells this restaurant for me is the vibe of the place, and the infectious enthusiasm from the staff. It’s not fine-dining service, but it’s the type of attention that immediately makes you feel comfortable and cared for, whether that’s keeping glasses filled, clearing plates or suggesting a double hit of the dense, caramelised miso financier with yuzu glaze and that ice-cream sandwich.

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.