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Four seats, two hotplates, a hibachi grill, a deep fryer and a chef. That’s it. That’s the whole restaurant.

Concealed behind a velvet curtain at the back of a whisky bar, the room is no larger than a walk-in fridge. It’s bordered by emerald tiles, divided by a Tasmanian beech myrtle bar and bathed in refracted light from a geometric fixture above.

Joel Alderdice balances the roles of host and chef. He fires up the grill to toast shavings of cured pork cheek served under latticed daikon, and pours small-batch local wine to go with it.

Sweet potato comes encased in brittle batter with grown-up chicken salt made from miso, kombu and shiitake. Koji caramel with shaved macadamia and pillowy cream is matched to a briny yuzushu, a fittingly unexpected pairing for a venue so delightfully niche.