We’re about a third of the way through Sushi Oe’s 30-course omakase experience when chef Toshihiko Oe drops a few words that somehow change everything. “Our rice master makes two kinds of rice for us,” he explains. “Some grains are round and some are oval. This makes space between each grain so you can taste them better.”
I pause mid chew. Huh. Can I really taste each grain? Chewing resumes. I put Oe’s proclamation through its paces and discover that yes, I actually can. I won’t pretend that my tastebuds can exactly delineate every shape ˗ the tongue has its limits – but there’s a distinct separation that seems to make the simple act of eating rice so much more interesting.

This sort of meditative precision is exactly why you go to omakase, and Oe, whose original venue in Cammeray opened in 2020, is Sydney’s grand master. Here at its new home within the Sydney Fish Markets, there are no fancy sauces or showy displays. It’s all about the simple beauty of the ingredients, presented in a way that forces you to empty every other thought from your head and focus on their singular deliciousness.
The meal begins with chawanmushi, topped with bonito flakes shaved from a dried slab that looks like petrified wood. Then it’s a nugget of steamed Tasmanian lobster wrapped in yuba, or tofu skin, afloat on dashi and soy. South Australian Abalone, toothfish and Wollongong mackerel follow, plus a cracking little dish of tiny firefly squid from Toyama in Japan. Three little plum-coloured, arrowheaded cephalopods are tangled together in a rich sauce of egg yolk and white miso; a harmonic balance of crunch and creaminess.
But the nigiri courses are when it all drills down to its most elemental, and not just because of the oval/round rice interplay. Watching Oe-san deftly shape the rice into uniform lozenges, adding blushing fillets of bar cod, amberjack and bonito – the latter sourced from the market that morning – is unadulterated artistry. More courses follow: tuna, of course, lightly boiled paradise prawns, saltwater eel from Hokkaido. There’s restraint, reverence and the pure taste of the sea in every bite.
Sushi Oe’s new location ˗ which currently seats eight guests but will increase to 10 in July 2026 – isn’t without its challenges. Next door is another, somewhat rowdier sushi joint, and the sound of the party can seep through the noren of the entryway and compete with all that zen contemplation. But when you’re consuming one perfectly knife-shaped piece of otoro tuna, one silken sip of sparkling junmai sake, or indeed rolling two shapes of rice around your tongue, all that really matters is you and the food.