On Little Bourke Street, in the thick of Melbourne's Chinatown, a long-running Japanese grill hands the cooking back to the diner. Sunk into each table is a binchotan setup, the dense, near-smokeless white charcoal prized in Japan for its clean, even heat, over which you sear your own skewers and cuts to the exact point you want them. The meat is the reason to book: high-grade A5 wagyu from Hida and Kagoshima alongside Australian marbled beef, laid out in set menus, plus yakitori brushed with tare or simply salted and seasonal skewers that change with what is good. The room is built for lingering, with soft light and semi-private booths, and a tatami space at the back that seats larger groups for the kind of long, unhurried dinner the format invites. For those who want to hand over the decisions, there is an omakase counter where the kitchen leads the way. It is a quietly confident operation that has outlasted trends by keeping its focus narrow, good charcoal, good beef, and the small ceremony of grilling it yourself, the sort of place regulars return to precisely because it never chases the moment. Come hungry and plan to stay a while.