As far as Japanese restaurants go, we live in a post-Nobu world. Certain tropes have popped up on every second menu since Nobu Matsuhisa changed the Western perception of Japanese food by opening Nobu almost 40 years ago.

There will be some form of deep-fried, battered popcorn shrimp. Tuna tacos. A gratuitous use of truffles, caviar and jalapeno. And always, some sort of “new style” (Nobu’s description) sashimi of precisely sliced raw fish in a pool of dashi vinaigrette.

Tanuki has resisted the temptation to wander too far from the template, so we’ll have to dig a little deeper to establish a point of difference for this glamorous new Japanese-inspired spot in the heart of Double Bay.

Perhaps it’s in the name. Tanuki is a Japanese racoon dog and mythical folkloric character, a cheeky trickster with a mystical shape-shifting ability. The restaurant’s multiplicity of spaces and moods has the same fluidity, with its streetside seating, internal sushi bar, robata bar and lounge/clubby dining room. Beyond that, there’s an atrium bar and moody courtyard with myriad private party rooms to the rear.

From the team behind nearby Matteo – Adam Abrams and Eddie Levy, along with Joong Charpentier – Tanuki gets the lighting, temperature, low-level furniture and buzz factor right.

That’s the thing about the post-Nobu menus. They happen to be full of things people want to eat – especially a new generation of diners who are, like, “Nobu? Who’s Nobu?” 

There’s a certain pressure on restaurants that open in Double Bay to look the part, to be an expensive handbag sort of place. Tanuki plays along, with its louvred glass panels, curvaceous ceiling, wall-mounted Japanese ceramics and fabulous framed image of Sumo wrestlers at work.

Chef Ken Wee Lee, who has cooked at Sushi E and Toko, turns new-style sashimi ($27) into a thing of beauty, the pink-tipped petals of kingfish arranged as a delicate flower, each one topped with salmon roe and pickled jalapeno. It follows through with flavour and the nuance of dashi and rice vinegar, and congratulations, chef, for saying no to mayo.

The “popcorn” dish is done here with bug meat ($43), and gyoza ($25 for five) have a nice hand-formed quality, a filling of finely minced wagyu beef and crisp brown bottoms.

I guess that’s the thing about the post-Nobu menus. They happen to be full of things people want to eat – especially a new generation of diners who are like, “Nobu? Who’s Nobu?”

Sushi is massively popular – some tables order an entire plate of sushi per person and little else. Two nigiri of akami tuna ($13) show off the lean, beefy-red cut from the top of the fish, as opposed to the pale fatty belly (toro). They’re fine; the fingers of rice small.

A Tanuki roll of panko prawns topped with seared scallops and mentaiko (spicy cod roe) mayo ($30) is less convincing. The rice in mine is crumbly, the crumb coating peels away, and the prawn tastes of not much at all. Value-adding slices of raw scallop along the top does little but point out the vapidity of value-adding.

I find the drinks service too insistent, with repeated offers to supply another glass or a different drink. One such table visit is a sign of good hospitality; three within two minutes is overly eager.

The kitchen’s strength appears to be the robata grill, and skewers of robata chicken ($13) benefit from the use of meaty chicken thigh, interspersed with leek and glistening with yakitori glaze. A simple 250g flank steak ($56) – one of three steak offerings – is pleasant to share. Charred on the outside and medium rare within, it comes with dibs and dobs of wasabi, smoked salt, miso mustard and truffled teriyaki; each sends the beef down a different flavour path.

Desserts are fancy, although a deconstructed pavlova of passionfruit, pineapple and yuzu granita ($16) gets messy fast.

As the night goes on, the crowd grows more glam, the decibels rise. By now, Tanuki feels more like a nightclub. It’s a scary thought, but could it be that we’ve moved on and are not just post-Nobu any more, but approaching post-restaurant?