Well, that wasn't the summer we hoped for. Just when you thought it was safe to go outside again, with every foray into the world, you have to weigh up whether it will be worth spending time in isolation. At Yakitori Bar, a house of sizzling sticks, katsu sandos and premium sashimi from the team behind Komeyui, the answer is a resounding yes.

This is a restaurant that would be on everyone's radar had COVID not eclipsed its 2020 opening.

Originally, owner Motomu Kumano intended it to be a more casual and freewheeling proposition to its sophisticated sister Komeyui – less sushi, more skewers sizzling over the binchotan charcoal grill, but no less attention to detail.

Every Melbourne restaurant is buckling the week that I visit, which makes it all the more impressive how slick, calm and soothing this operation is. The "irasshaimase" greeting rings out in perfect unison. We're immediately furnished with a frosty glass of plum sake, a complimentary aperitif to prime the engine.

A clean, serene room of bright ashen woods, warmly lit, with the chefs in action behind the main counter, provides all the focus you need. It's the eye of the storm. An oasis loaded with good sake and very delicious sticks.

Initially, the focus was to be on the grill, and that remains the signature. As the name suggests, this is a pure yakitori situation. The only skewers are chicken – heart, liver, gizzards or the sweet "oysters" of meat that lie either side of the backbone – threaded with slips of spring onion, ruffles of skin sizzled to crisp golden crackling, and juicy thigh razzed up with togarashi, that chilli-sesame-seaweed seasoning that brings dishes to life.

Beyond this, the slow-burning binchotan charcoal, known for imbuing a sweet gentle smoke, is pressed into service burnishing prime wagyu, squid that has been dry-aged for extra flavour and chew, and the meaty collar of a kingfish, which becomes an exercise of extracting soft lobes of meat and sticky skin with your fingers.

But the offering has vastly expanded. There is now the joy of the lunch-only katsu sandwich, dry-aged pork loin captured in a crunchy crumb between two slices of fluffy bread and tangy Bull-Dog sauce.

But you can also buckle in for a full omakase (chef's choice) featuring premium sashimi, a flurry of grilled magic and even a miniature serve of their luxuriously rich ramen.

Take it as easy as you like, but with the world threatening to implode, it feels foolish to do anything but order everything.

Fair warning, the omakase isn't for the faint-hearted. Chef Minkyu (Max) Han will work with your tastes and dietaries (with warning and within reason), but it is worth noting this is not a menu geared towards vegetarians.

We start with sashimi – sweet, fat Hokkaido scallops, wild salmon and kingfish. An oyster is lifted with gingery, yuzu ponzu and has textural pops from tiny tobiko (flying fish) caviar.

There is a special of chawanmushi, that silky, savoury steamed custard that falls apart at the lightest prod, here unusually flavoured with a strata of blue cheese and truffle oil – a potent ingredient I often find overbearing, but in this case file under weird enough to work.

Bold statement custards are just the tip of the luxury iceberg. Densely marbled A5 Japanese wagyu is served as a lightly warmed tartare, mixed with creme of the ocean, uni. Loaded onto lacy rice crackers, the melting fats of the land and sea make a compelling duo.

Smoked halibut fin, another rich, marshmallowy meat, is countered by zingy yuzu and lightly pickled radish and cucumber.

A trache of otoro, the fattiest part of the tuna belly, is presented in all its glory on a tiny stump like a gallery plinth, perfect with a notch of fresh wasabi.

Rich? You bet. Chasing all those premium bites with the mini ramen (a deep sticky chicken broth with a pinwheel of house-made char sui pork, bright snap peas and a soy-stained egg), might feel like overkill.

But the beauty here is that almost every dish can be yours on a casual basis. There is no minimum buy-in. Drop by for a bowl of that ramen on its own. Perhaps a little karaage (fried chicken) and a bottle of refined daiginjo sake from Niigata is also on the cards. You get the same professional service either way.

It feels like a privilege to eat out anywhere at the moment. But it feels especially so here, where you know there are hardships going on behind the scenes and see none of it in practice. There's a true gift of hospitality in that kind of professionalism. Give them the attention they deserve.

Drinks: Premium sakes and a sharp collection of local wines.

Pro tip: Vegetarian options are available, but limited. Call to discuss.

• Gemima Cody reviews Komeyui 2.0