This ‘bargain’ rice bowl is one of the best ways to get a fancy − but not too formal − sushi fix

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I was on my way to another restaurant one night when the window at Sachi caught my eye. Hanging in a glass case was a fish as big as a boogie board, glistening and majestic. A quick peek at the menu revealed this to be one of a growing and extremely welcome trend in Melbourne dining: that of the high-quality, mid-range sushi restaurant.

I say “sushi”, of course, as a catch-all for Japanese raw-fish centred dining, since Sachi is actually more of a donburi restaurant, donburi (or don) being a bowl of rice with toppings. In the case of Sachi, most (though not all) of those toppings come in the form of seafood, much of it raw and dry-aged in those big glass cases up front.

The room on Queen Street is long and mostly black with red light accents, and the most interesting place to sit is at the bar which runs the length of the right side of the room. There you can watch the chefs arrange various slices of fish over rice while you sip on a cocktail, or, better yet, a glass of sake from the extensive – and helpfully descriptive – list. (There’s also a slightly odd wine list that has some of the standard big producers and then a bunch of super-premium bottles, too.)

Sachi is a project borne of passion, but also friendship: chef Reki Reinantha, who worked at Kisume a few years back, started out doing pop-ups in 2024, helped by fellow chef Shinwoo Hong and manager Kaiya Yamaguchi. The trio aimed to emulate the everyday quality available in Tokyo, where dining on premium fish does not have to mean spending big bucks on a fine-dining omakase.

You can get various sashimi starters, a loose, brothy and mushroom-heavy chawanmushi (savoury egg custard), or a nigiri set of 10 or 15 pieces.

But the real draw here is the donburi bowls, which start at a bargain price of $35 for salmon, tuna, kingfish and scallop over well-cooked rice seasoned with red vinegar and topped with a raw egg yolk. A fan of nori comes on the side to wrap and complement the fish, and if you crave raw fish the way I do, it’s one of the best uses of $35 you’re going to find.

If you want a blow-out, that too can be had. There’s a don that costs $125 and is layered with sea urchin, raw scampi, tuna belly and salmon roe. It’s a bit rich for my tastes, but I suppose that’s the point.

The premium bowl, for $75, delivers somewhat of a middle ground, with the best cuts from the fish on offer, plus sweet and meaty grilled unagi (eel).

Are there concessions that are made to get this quality at an affordable price? Sure. All the fish are cut ahead of service, making for easy assemblage.

There are a few fun dishes that are nonetheless a bit of a waste: can you taste the creamy, ocean funk of the sea urchin piled onto a finger of rosti? Not really. (It may be a good uni gateway snack, I suppose.)

And I do find the red vinegar-laden rice delicious on first bite, and a little overpowering and sweet by the time I’m mostly done with the bowl – it may be that some restraint in seasoning would make for a less thrilling initial mouthful but a more satisfying meal.

If you crave raw fish the way I do, the Sachi don is one of the best uses of $35 you’re going to find.

If I had one piece of advice for Sachi, though, it’s that they lean into the sake bar aspect of the business. It deserves to be more bustling, more bar-like, as there’s no rule to say that great fish and good times can’t both be had at once (just ask those casual Tokyo joints that inspired this place). It would require a service presence that’s excited and knowledgeable about the drinks list, which exists here, but you do need to seek it out (and I’m not sure most people would in its current iteration). I’d love to see fun become a main draw.

Even as it stands, Sachi ticks a lot of boxes. Some days I just want really good fish (beyond salmon and tuna), rice that has been taken care of, and I don’t want the expense or formality of high-end dining to get it. These three friends have asked what they themselves were missing in Melbourne dining, and come up with a smart, accessible and delicious fix.

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.