From the street, Toriciya looks like every Japanese neighbourhood izakaya bar in every Japanese neighbourhood – the wall of sake bottles, the modest entrance, the little covered courtyard. There is nothing flash about it at all. You would be forgiven for not knowing it even existed – unless you were a restaurant critic, whose job it is to know these things. Oh, the shame, the guilt. And it's not as if it has just opened. Toriciya has been here for 24 years. 

So, a big thanks to two food obsessives, Kim Terakes and Andrew Hardjasudarma, who independently told me to get myself here. It can't have been easy for them. Once you have been to Toriciya, you want to keep it to yourself. The problem is that it's both tiny and popular, with as much space devoted to dining as to cooking. It's also immediately captivating, a warm glow of a tiny, narrow dining room with dark wooden beams, wooden counters and simple wooden tables and chairs. Here, a collection of sake cups; there, a Sapporo beer dispenser and plumbed-in gas bottle; equal parts charm and pragmatism. 

Sushi chef Hiroya Yamaguchi chats with regulars at the tiny, four-seater sushi bar, while owner-chef Hideo Fukada works the bincho charcoal grills behind. Faded Japanese advertising signs evoke a sense of another culture, another age, and floor staff are patient and caring. 

Judging by the never-ending story of a menu, Toriciya does pretty much everything from sushi to sashimi, yakitori to donburi, udon noodle soup to wagyu steak, and miso cod to baked savoy cabbage with truffle oil. The sushi/sashimi work is immaculate; and the quality of the fish shines in a post-Nobu presentation of kingfish carpaccio ($18), topped with crushed jalapeno and dressed with yuzu soy. 

Sizzling samurai, it's good – delicate, subtle, clean, cut-through. The chef's selection of six different nigiri sushi is precise and generously draped, with bar cod and trevally the stand-outs. A daily special of grilled whole lobster tail roll ($26) comes as six large rounds of warm, almost squishy, rice studded with lobster and wrapped in golden soybean paper; luxurious comfort food.

Another discovery awaits, in a little bowl of pickled wasabi leaves ($7) that pack a peppery-hot punch without actually blowing your head off. Yakitori is done really well here, especially smoky, not-too-sweet chicken thigh and juicy tsukune chicken meatballs ($3 a skewer). In a spirit of adventure, I order tempura brussels sprouts ($13), but perhaps not everything should be battered and deep-fried. To end, there's a toasty, caramelly roasted green tea ice-cream ($4 scoop).

There's not much in the way of a wine list, because there's not much in the way of wine. It's all about the junmai (pure rice) sake, with a helpful and comprehensive sake menu that lists prefecture, brewery, classification, rice type and Sake Meter Value, a guide to where it sits on the sweet/dry spectrum. So a chilled, crystal-clear Junmai Daiginjo from Denemon in Niigata ($16 for 180ml) has an SMV of +1 and acidity of 1.5, with a fresh and fruity result.

A sister restaurant called En Toriciya opened recently in Crows Nest and is handy for lunch, but this, the mothership, is a treasure trove of Japanese goodness. It is one of the most refreshing, restorative and true Japanese experiences in Sydney. 

They have no agenda here, other than to do their job properly and rigorously. I can only apologise for not doing the same thing myself.

THE LOWDOWN

Best bit: Discovering Toriciya for yourself

Worst bit: Not knowing it has been here for 24 years.

Go-to dish: Kingfish with jalapeno, $18