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Have we reached peak sushi yet? Honestly, as much as it seems that every second new restaurant opening in recent months has been some form of high-end Japanese, I hope the sushi wave is only just beginning.

Why? Because almost all these openings are at the extremely expensive end of the spectrum. That means better fish, better rice, better knife skills, better everything. But there’s room for that to trickle down, and we deserve quality somewhere between the takeaway rolls at the mall and the $200-plus omakase feast.

Uminono has been working on providing that middle ground for quite some time. Beginning during lockdown, owner Arnaud Laidebeur began offering pristine, jewel-like sushi boxes for customers to take away and eat at home at a fraction of the cost that the same quality might cost in a restaurant setting.

Laidebeur is French and classically trained, but he also worked at a high-end omakase restaurant in France and became obsessed with Japanese food and sushi in particular.

Earlier this year he closed his to-go operation for a short time in order to install a sushi counter in the space. He is still running the take-home business, but he also offers a lunch-only sushi service five days a week.

I’ve written before about Uminono’s takeaway offering, and have not had it recently – so consider this a review of the in-house dining experience only. But I’m thrilled to report that the extreme quality and subtle modernity of Laidebeur’s boxes translates even better in a traditional sushi bar setting.

The lunch on offer comes in one of two forms: a chirashi bowl for $60, or an 11-course omakase experience for $110. Both are fantastic value, and I’d say the chirashi bowl is probably the best value for high-quality sushi in the city.

Seven types of seafood, including ora salmon, paradise prawn, snapper and kingfish, are layered over lightly vinegared sushi rice, accompanied by simmered shiitake mushrooms and a smattering of roasted cashews.

Squares of nori are fanned out along the edge of the bowl, allowing for a build-your-own hand roll experience that is as fun as it is delicious.

The omakase is more involved and less DIY. You’ll start with sashimi – snapper the day I had it – atop a subtle sauce of dashi and spring onion oil.

From there you move on to nigiri, each piece pressed lovingly onto that same barely warm sushi rice, then brushed with some kind of oil or essence. This is the main thing you miss out on if you opt for the chirashi bowl: the opportunity to taste Laidebeur’s modern sensibilities when it comes to dressing his fish.

Silky kingfish comes daubed with onion oil; other fish are brushed with burnt orange, or chive pesto. For the most part, this works beautifully – the one time I found the garnishes distracting was on the paradise prawn, which had its creamy sweetness eclipsed by a somewhat aggressive sesame miso.

There are usually a few special additions that you can add on to your omakase or chirashi bowl. Right now it is both bluefin tuna season and truffle season, and that has inspired a ridiculously decadent special of fatty tuna on sushi rice that is just smothered in shaved truffle ($45).

Does it work? Kind of. All of the ingredients are top-notch, so eating them together is hardly a chore. Is it a good use of black truffle, which in my opinion really needs some kind of heat to bring out its best qualities? Probably not. But the debauchery is the point, and I’m loath to criticise the fun of something so silly.

A word on that bluefin tuna, which Laidebeur lovingly dry-ages in a purpose-built glassed-in fridge next to the front door: I’ve criticised sushi chefs in the past for serving an endangered species, and I’ll probably continue to do so. The southern bluefin served at Uminono is Australian-caught, and there are those that claim it’s sustainable. I’m not convinced – eating an endangered species just doesn’t sit well with me, despite the frequency with which I find myself doing it for professional reasons – but it is probably less problematic than farmed and other species of bluefin.

The meal finishes with Laidebeur’s one true nod to his French background, a layered dessert of hazelnut chocolate ganache, raspberry and an almost weightless chocolate mousse. It might seem incongruous at the end of this meal, but it is delicious, and light enough to sit well after stuffing yourself with fish.

Uminono is a pared-back experience: the room is simple, and the drinks list is short but sweet: a few sakes, some simple sake-based cocktails, a few champagnes and wines. But it fills a space in our dining scene that I didn’t even know we needed, that of the special occasion-worthy but comparatively affordable luxury sushi lunch.

We’ve got a way to go before I’ll be completely satisfied with Melbourne’s sushi saturation. I want to see reasonably priced but great Tuesday-night sushi joints, more sake bars with good sushi selections, more chirashi bowls that go beyond tuna and salmon.

Uminono is exciting because it doesn’t really follow any script, and for Melbourne it’s wonderful to have all the care and quality and personal attention of a high-end omakase at a price point that isn’t quite so painful.