Ayame

Think Zen and the art of the sushi roll. Everything about this refined shopfront dining house is ordered and calm. There's the formal service; the crisp interior with striking white-leather chairs; and the deft cuts of raw tuna, salmon and kingfish prepared at the sushi bar and served in cut-above platters. Such theatrical flourishes lift Ayame above expectations you might have for a suburban restaurant. Sushi is bejewelled with luminous salmon roe, and rows of sashimi rest on rice or shredded daikon. Show-stopping nasu dengaku is a plump eggplant twice-roasted with a chicken miso paste that arrives as a structural improbability between brittle wafer-thin crepes. Flavours tend to the sweet side, from mustard mayonnaise on a smoked calamari salad to sesame-and-soy dressing on perfectly pink sliced beef gyu-niki tataki. Tram bells chime outside, green-tea ice-cream is served, then all-comers step into the night with inner contentment.