We’d scrolled past Oden on Bourke Street more times than we can count before we actually booked a table. Every second Melbourne food account seemed to be standing in front of that steaming pot by July, and every time, the same thought stopped us: oden is street food. It’s the stuff you grab from a convenience store bain-marie in Tokyo on a freezing night, not something you dress up for. So we kept scrolling past.
Eventually a friend talked us into it, and we’re glad she did, though not for every reason we expected.
Quick facts before we get into it
Oden Sake Bar sits at 137 Bourke Street in the Melbourne CBD, close to Parliament House and a short walk from Collins Street. It’s the sister venue of the two-hatted Japanese restaurant Ishizuka, which explains a lot about the ambitions on the menu — this isn’t the $5 convenience-store version, and it isn’t trying to be. Trading hours shift a little depending on the day, so it’s worth checking Oden’s own site or What’s On Melbourne before you head in, especially if you’re planning a weekday lunch.
The vibe is the best thing about it
This is where Oden earns the hype. Walk in and you’re greeted by two long rows of ingredients sitting in the simmering pots along the counter — daikon, tamago, chikuwa, fukubukuro, all slowly soaking up the broth. It’s genuinely a nice thing to look at, and if you can get a counter seat, take it. Watching the chefs work through the pots and the grill is half the appeal, and it puts you close enough to the binchotan coals to actually feel the warmth on a cold Melbourne night.
We were sat with a cup of the broth almost as soon as we arrived, which was a nice touch. It’s savoury and warming in the way only a good dashi can be, and it does a lot to set expectations for the meal ahead, in a good way.
What we ordered, and how it actually tasted
Between the four of us we ordered a set menu and then kept going, more or less working through half the menu out of curiosity: daikon, a large block of konjac (we’d assumed it would come as the shredded, noodle-like version and were surprised to get a solid slab instead), chicken meatballs, wagyu skewers, enoki mushroom, beef tendon, and the dish everyone had told us to get — the daikon with foie gras.
That last one is worth the trip on its own. Daikon is already the heart of any good oden pot, soaking up hours of broth until it turns almost translucent, and adding foie gras on top pushes it somewhere richer and genuinely memorable. It’s the one dish from our table that we’d go back for specifically.
The rest was more of a mixed bag. Nothing was bad, but nothing beyond the daikon made us stop mid-conversation either. A few of the skewers and the tendon were fine rather than exciting, which stings a little given the price point sits well above what oden usually costs.
Nobody warned us about the pace
This is the bit that actually surprised us. Oden, by nature, is food you’re supposed to pick at slowly. Point at something in the pot, eat it, have a sip of your drink, chat for a while, then point at the next thing. That’s kind of the whole point of ordering it. Except we’d gone in four deep and basically ordered our way through half the menu in one hit, so within a few minutes of sitting down our table was completely full. Every dish arrived almost on top of the last one.
So instead of the slow, warm-yourself-up-with-a-sake evening we’d pictured, we ended up just working through plates as fast as we could so things didn’t go cold. Honestly a bit funny in hindsight, but not what we came for. If you’re going with a group, don’t do what we did — order in smaller batches and let the table breathe a bit, or just flag it with the waiter and ask them to send things out slower.
Lunch vs dinner
If you want the calmer version of Oden, go for lunch. It’s quieter, there’s less pressure on the counter seats, and you’re not competing with the dinner rush to actually sit and enjoy it. Dinner is where it gets busy — counter seats fill up fast and the kitchen’s clearly moving quicker to turn the tables over. Either way, book ahead through OpenTable or directly on Oden’s site, especially for a weekend.
If you happen to be in the city during the Victorian winter school holidays and want somewhere to go after the kids have been dropped off with the grandparents, Oden’s a good shout for an evening out. Just know it’s not a kid-friendly menu — this one’s for the grown-ups.
So, worth it?
Mostly, yes, but go in knowing what you’re getting. The food itself was fine rather than amazing across most of the table, and the pacing worked against everything the place is supposedly built around. That said, the daikon with foie gras is genuinely worth the trip on its own, the broth is proper cold-night comfort, and watching the chefs work from the counter is a nice bit of theatre. Next time we’ll order less, spread it out, and actually let ourselves sit with a warm sake for a change.