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If scarcity creates worth, then there’s no more valuable reservation in town than a spot at Yugen’s six-seat sushi counter. Making a reservation here isn’t the most convoluted process I’ve heard of, but it does require calendar reminders, a fast internet connection and a great deal of good luck.

The counter is located on Yugen’s second level, perched above the main dining room and surrounded by tables of diners who are eating from the regular menu. This creates a slight disconnect in tone, given that this type of sushi meal is usually consumed in a calm – if not pointedly hushed – atmosphere.

But Yugen has the feel of a swish nightclub, down to the DJ spinning techno-ish records in a booth beside the glowing bar. This, in addition to the chattering tables around you, makes for an experience that’s more festive than reverent or tranquil.

This six-seat sushi bar is undoubtedly the precious jewel in the maximalist crown that is Yugen.

Chef Alex Yu does his best, however, working quietly and handing exquisite bites of food across the counter at a steady pace (the omakase is $285 per person). A sake pairing is available ($185) and I highly recommend it, since the bottles on offer, which are often rare, are superb. It also makes the service staff talkative: you’re likely to learn a thing or two while drinking something extremely nice.

Yu might start you off with a bowl of kingfish, whitefish and a dollop of caviar shot through with a lightly sweet citrus glow. There’s an exactitude in the execution of flavours here, a thoughtfulness that goes beyond simply treating luxury ingredients with care.

He’s also a fan of blending elements to get the exact outcome he’s looking for: wasabi from Japan with wasabi from New Zealand, for example, or four kinds of rice and five kinds of vinegar to create his barely warm, fantastically pearlescent sushi rice.

Early in the evening, a thin layer of lightly singed wagyu is served on minced tuna belly and just a touch of that rice, which almost imperceptibly sweetens the dish. The addition of gold leaf is somewhat silly in its blinged-out nature, but I’d be lying if I said that the glitter doesn’t add a hint of magic to the dish. It’s a glorious surf-and-turf mouthful, bursting with different kinds of juicy, mellow fat.

The nigiri here is some of the best in town, thanks to the quality and range of the fish, but also to Yu’s intricate knifework. His tiny knife cuts on a silvery piece of golden eye snapper, while a light toastiness, delivered by way of a quick blast of the blowtorch, adds depth and intrigue to the fish.

The King George whiting is downright velvety and the Ora King salmon so lush and soft – kissed by just a hint of lime zest – it takes my breath away. (Notes from my phone: “Salmon: soft; lime zest, wtf … so good.” )

There are places where Yu’s penchant for crowd-pleasing distracts from the more subtle nature of the ingredients. Burnt shallot in the chawanmushi tastes good, but overwhelms the silky custard a little. Squid nigiri is obscured somewhat by its sesame and shiso accompaniment.

But more often than not, Yu gets the balance just right. A raw scampi is only barely kissed by fire, bringing out its sweetness and creaminess; the dollop of caviar on top only heightens the experience.

My only real complaint has to do with the construction of the bar itself. One of the pleasures of eating at most sushi counters is watching the chef prepare the food. This seems so basic, I hadn’t ever considered an alternative. But at Yugen, large slabs of pink marble completely obscure the diner’s view. This is odd, given that what Yu is doing behind them is so exacting and considered.

But if you don’t mind the view – or lack thereof – and the nightclub atmosphere doesn’t turn you off and, most importantly, you can manage to snag a seat, Yugen’s omakase is one of the most thrilling dining experiences Melbourne has to offer right now.

Yu’s dedication to precision and pleasure is a winning combination and his six-seat sushi bar is undoubtedly the precious jewel in the maximalist crown that is Yugen.

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine