Tucked away in a little shopping village in Beaumaris, Hinata Premium Sushi and Sashimi is a neighbourhood Japanese restaurant where chef and owner Thant Aung brings almost two decades of experience to a menu of beautifully fresh sushi and sashimi, hand rolls, comforting curries and generous Japanese meals. Thant’s journey began washing dishes at a sushi train in Queensland, eventually taking him to Nobu Melbourne and, finally, a restaurant of his own. Joining us for the conversation was Aaron Kher, a recent MasterChef semi-finalist who has been spending a few days each week in Thant’s kitchen, learning the finer points of Japanese cooking. I loved the warmth between these two, particularly the way their relationship has become a genuine exchange of knowledge and ideas. Thant has years of professional experience to share, while Aaron brings a different perspective and plenty of curiosity. I was also delighted to discover that Hinata participates in Too Good To Go, the food rescue app I wrote about for Broadsheet when it launched in Melbourne in 2024. Through the app, users can purchase a Surprise Bag of food that might otherwise go to waste. Thant would much rather see his beautiful food enjoyed than thrown away, and it’s already brought new customers through his door. There was plenty of laughter around the table, and what stayed with me was the generosity of two cooks at very different stages of their careers who are genuinely excited about what they can learn from one another.
Thant Aung: I’ve been doing Japanese food for 17 or 18 years.
Conversation with a chef: Wow. How did you get into it?
TA: It’s interesting. I came here to study tourism and hospitality management. I was looking for a part-time job and got one at a food court, but it didn’t pay very well, so I looked for something better. I found a Japanese sushi train and started washing dishes. I’d go there every day, wash dishes for five hours and come home. It was busy, nonstop plates coming through. At the start of a shift, you’d make a few sushi rolls, then go back to cleaning. That was what beginners did. I was a bit lucky. Japanese restaurants already had machines that made things easier. There was a nigiri machine, and the chef picked me to use it. You’d put the rice down and the seaweed on, something like that. They showed me, and slowly I got into it. I started using a knife and doing a bit of cooking. I didn’t have much cooking background.
Where did you come from originally?
I’m originally from Burma.
Who did the cooking at home? Your mum?
Mum did the cooking. Sometimes I’d chop an onion and wash dishes, but not much cooking. When I came here, I didn’t know what to do. I even struggled with the names of vegetables. Someone would ask me to pick something up and I wouldn’t know what it was. That was in my early twenties. At the sushi train, I started making more of the orders. When you see an order, you want to make something. At that time, you’re very proud when you make a dish, even though you have zero knowledge and zero skill. I just tried to copy the chefs. Whenever I had time and an opportunity, I took it. I started cutting vegetables and cooking a little bit here and there.
I had a friend from China, and we started at almost the same time. He spoke no English, and they asked me to teach him how to wash dishes and make a little bit of sushi. We did it together. Now he has two sushi shops. We inspired each other. We helped each other.
It feels as though it was a good, inspiring place to work, even though the sushi train was quite low-key. Both of you wanted to go further with it.
I used to think about destiny. At that time, I thought I wanted a job with a good salary, four or five days a week, where you finish your five days, switch off and don’t have to think about work for two days. My dad had a business, and I didn’t enjoy seeing him go through the ups and downs. I thought when I got older I’d just have a steady income and be happy. But in the end …
You were drawn to it. What were the steps towards working at Nobu? I imagine you need a lot of technique.
I worked my way up from zero at the sushi train. They sponsored me. My friend from China and I became very close. We almost lived in the same place and went home together every night, talking. He’s older than me. He’d tell me, “Learn whatever you can, whether you like it or not, whether you use it or not.” At that restaurant, I cooked, worked on the floor, did the register and went to the bank when my boss was on holiday. I wanted to learn, so whenever somebody taught me something useful, I picked it up. If there was something I didn’t like, I didn’t have to use it. A lot of my cutting skills came from Japanese chefs. They were very strict. I still remember the first time I cut spring onions. The chef looked at them and put them straight in the bin.
Oh, no! You must have had to do hours and hours of practice.
I had to come in an hour early. They’d say, “If you want to cut fish, come an hour earlier.” That’s all they said. If you started at nine, you came at eight, and if the chef was in a good mood, he’d give you one fillet to cut. Then they probably wouldn’t use it. Now I can understand his point. Every chef has a different way of cutting, and that’s what I tell Aaron. He can feel the difference between the way I cut and the way he cuts. I got to watch a few chefs, and that was a good experience.
As senior chefs left, I got more opportunities to make sushi and prepare sashimi. You need to be patient. A sushi train has different sections, and one chef stays in a section until he leaves. Only then do you get a chance to take that position. It can take years.
In the meantime, I worked on the floor, did the register and became a manager when I was about 26. I thought, “I’m good now,” but really I didn’t know enough to run the show. I was proud of where I’d got to, but my friend told me, “You need to come down.” I used to be very straightforward. If things didn’t go my way, I didn’t like it, and I had an attitude. There were arguments. I couldn’t blend in. After that, I slowed down and learnt to take things more calmly. You listen, take what is useful, and if you don’t like something, you can be quiet and do what you believe is right. That was in Queensland, and then I moved to Melbourne because my wife got a job here and I wanted a change.
It was hard to get into Nobu, especially because I didn’t have a chef’s qualification. I’d studied tourism and hospitality, so I started again as a dishwasher at Crown. I built myself up again, helping chefs, cooking and cutting. I was in Crown Banquets, and eventually they asked if I wanted to become a cook. I said, “Why not?” Banquets are always quiet in January, so sometimes they send chefs to help Nobu at the Australian Open. Nobu needed more chefs there, and I asked for a chance. That’s how I got to work with Nobu at the Australian Open.
You must be very patient, and you must really love it to have waited and worked your way in.
I love it. That’s why you have patience. It’s hard. These days you see a lot of attitude. Sometimes you just need to say, “Yes, chef,” and do it. If you can’t, ask them how. I met a really good chef, who became my ex-boss and has another shop in [check] Park. I thought I’d stay at Nobu for a long time, but in the end I didn’t.
How long were you there?
Two and a half years.
That’s a good amount of time. Were you ready then to have your own place?
No, no. I wasn’t happy thinking about what would happen if I stayed there too long. Maybe after ten years I’d be head chef, but I’d still be getting much the same salary. My good friend already had shops, and he said, “Get out. Don’t stay in your comfort zone.” So I started looking around. In between I worked at a sushi place, and at the MCG and Marvel Stadium. I wanted to see corporate functions and different kinds of operations. Crown Banquets was huge. It was valuable experience. I think it came down to patience and passion.
What I’m trying to achieve here is freshness. Really, it’s not even something I have to try to do. It’s already a habit. People here appreciate that freshness. At the beginning it was hard. They’d look from outside and walk past. Then somebody would buy one piece of sushi, come back and say, “This is really fresh.” That’s why I appreciate all my teachers and chefs. It’s what I learnt in the past. Even small things make a big difference.
Thant Aung, Hinata Premium Sushi and Sashimi
Moving into this place is very different from those huge operations. I don’t think I’ve been to this part of Beaumaris before. I’ve been to the waterfront, but this feels like a little village. It’s lovely.
It has everything: a clinic, dentist, physio. It’s a hidden gem, but that makes it a little hard for business. Once people know us, they keep coming back. From outside the area, it’s hard to find this spot.
How did you come across it?
I had followed a chef who used to be my boss at Nobu. When he left, I wanted to understand why. He’s very Japanese, doesn’t talk much and lives in his own world. I asked, “Chef, can I follow you? Can I help? You don’t need to pay me.” He said okay. When he opened his shop in Albert Park, I’d go in the morning to help before going to Nobu.
At the beginning he didn’t really know what the shop would be either. He said, “Make some hand rolls. Make whatever you think is good.” I had sushi-train experience, and there was another very good chef there. We tried making things people might like. It was mainly takeaway, with a similar setup to here. At first it was very quiet. Sometimes he’d tell us to go home. I went away for a month, and when I came back business had picked up a little, but there were still afternoons with no dinner orders. After COVID, that changed completely.
Before COVID, I was also working at Crown and at a place called Calia in Chadstone, which has closed. I was working in three different places. Nobu was my full-time job. I didn’t have kids, and I was planning to open my own shop, so I wanted to see how different kitchens worked. I was particularly interested in Calia because it was a brand-new opening, with new systems and a new kitchen.
During COVID I was at home and bored, so I asked the chef for a few shifts. I started doing two or three evenings, and the business became incredibly busy. People were lining up outside to collect food. I really enjoyed that neighbourhood, the people and the culture. That’s why, when I opened my own place, I wanted a similar neighbourhood but didn’t want to be right next to him. I wanted to go further down.
A friend mentioned Beaumaris, and I didn’t know what it was like here. I was looking for a Japanese restaurant to buy and run. I looked at two or three places, then found this shop online. It had been a different cuisine. In the end I decided to start from zero rather than take over somebody else’s Japanese restaurant. I came here and spent about a month looking around and studying the area before deciding.
Amazing. What does Hinata mean?
TA: Hinata means “sunny place.” Something bright and welcoming.
And the reference to Kyoto on the poster: is that because of the matcha tea?
Yes. My friend supplies me with matcha from Kyoto.
I was just in Japan recently.
TA: I went last month too. I was in Tokyo, staying in Asakusa, near the temple. I chose that area because it’s ten or fifteen minutes from the kitchen town, where they sell wholesale kitchen equipment.
We visited Asakusa too. I was there in September, on a school trip, because I’m also a teacher. It was really hot, and we were there during Silver Week with all the public holidays. We went to Kyoto or Osaka or Hiroshima as well?
TA: It was my first time. In 17 years of doing Japanese food, I’d never been to Japan.
Oh! What did you think? You must have looked at it with different eyes.
TA: I’ve been to a few places. Vietnam, for example, was somewhere I went once and didn’t feel I needed to go back to. But Japan? I want to go back now.
Of course. Everyone’s so nice, and everything works. There’s a flow to it. I’m a French teacher and I love France, but France can be quite hard, even when you speak the language. People can be rude and bustling. Japan has that chaos, but it’s so organised.
AT: And the rubbish bins! You have to take your rubbish with you. Although the food isn’t necessarily cheap. Some things are, but a proper meal isn’t always cheap.
What’s the offering at Hinata?
AT: A lot of it is inspired by my ex-boss. It’s casual dining. I originally wanted to focus on takeaway, like he did in Albert Park. I liked the style and the system, but this neighbourhood wanted something different. I had the space here, but it took me six months to accept that people wanted to dine in. I didn’t really want to do a ‘restaurant’ restaurant. After a year I thought, “Okay, this is a restaurant.”
So lunch and dinner?
AT: Yes. I open from around ten, but on weekdays I close earlier, around six-thirty or seven-thirty. Casual means more like home cooking, not fine dining. You can have rice, salad, vegetables, fried food, pickles: a bit of everything in one meal, like a Japanese bento box. There are dishes like chicken katsu curry, small sides such as agedashi tofu and gyoza, and then sushi and sashimi, which are my specialties. Hand rolls are a basic part of sushi shops, and you see things like spicy tuna or other rolls everywhere.
What I’m trying to achieve here is freshness. Really, it’s not even something I have to try to do. It’s already a habit. People here appreciate that freshness. At the beginning it was hard. They’d look from outside and walk past. Then somebody would buy one piece of sushi, come back and say, “This is really fresh.” That’s why I appreciate all my teachers and chefs. It’s what I learnt in the past. Even small things make a big difference.
Growing up in a Malaysian household, the only thing you ever think about is the next meal. My whole family revolves around food. We travel for food. When we go on holidays, we plan around the restaurants and markets we want to visit. My inspiration came from my mum and my grandmothers. When I was very young, I’d wander around the kitchen. My grandma noticed I was interested in what she was doing, so she’d get me to peel garlic. I started when I was six or seven. She gave me a plastic knife, and I was just there in the kitchen absorbing everything.
Aaron Kher, MasterChef semi-finalist, mentee at Hinata Premium Sushi and Sashimi
And Aaron, you’ve obviously always been interested in food?
Aaron Kher: Definitely. Growing up in a Malaysian household, the only thing you ever think about is the next meal. My whole family revolves around food. We travel for food. When we go on holidays, we plan around the restaurants and markets we want to visit. My inspiration came from my mum and my grandmothers. When I was very young, I’d wander around the kitchen. My grandma noticed I was interested in what she was doing, so she’d get me to peel garlic. I started when I was six or seven. She gave me a plastic knife, and I was just there in the kitchen absorbing everything.
How long before this year had you thought about going on MasterChef?
AK: I’d actually never thought about going on MasterChef. It was my partner, Crystal, who suggested it. I’d always wanted to go into food, but I was working in the family business doing medical sales. I sold spinal equipment to surgeons and went into operating theatres to show them how to use our equipment while they were operating on patients. I was in that company for eight years. In my second year, I wanted to leave and go to culinary school, but my family wouldn’t let me. They said the company was just starting, they’d trained me, and they needed me to help run it for at least seven years. So I stayed and ran the day-to-day operations and the business side of things. In my eighth year I said, “Look, I’ve got to go and do my own thing or I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”
I stepped away and started applying to culinary school. Crystal said, “You’re good at cooking. Why don’t you give MasterChef a shot?” It was the furthest thing from my mind. She said, “Just try it. If you don’t get in, go to culinary school.” I applied last year, but they had the Back to Win season. I took that as a sign and thought, “That’s it. One and done. I’m going to culinary school.” I wasn’t disappointed. I was happy that I knew my path. But Crystal said, “Maybe hold off and try again next year.” I wanted to start cooking and get into the industry, but she encouraged me to find another job for the moment and apply again.
I went into plumbing sales, warehousing and logistics. It was actually fun. I got my forklift licence and everything. I’d completely sidetracked into plumbing. Then I applied again and got the call to come in for an audition.
Wow. You made it to the semifinals. Congratulations. How much time was there between the audition and the end of filming?
AK: The auditions happened in August and September. We didn’t hear back until around the middle or end of October, and filming started in November. Because I made it almost to the end, we wrapped at the end of April.
That’s so long! You can’t have a job at the same time, can you?
AK: No. I had to quit my plumbing job to focus on it full-time. I was really lucky because Crystal said, “Go and do it. I’ll support you.” They gave us an allowance. There was a weekly Coles order because Coles sponsored the show, so we could order groceries. And the $800 a week was for incidentals and as an allowance.
Did it meet your expectations? I don’t know if you had expectations going in.
It blew my expectations out of the water. I didn’t know what to expect. Whatever I could have imagined, the reality went beyond that. The whole experience was life-changing. Seeing the production side of things and just how big it is was eye-opening. There are at least a hundred people on set every day. The hours are long, anywhere from eight to twelve hours filming, cooking and waiting for judging. It was a very eye-opening, life-changing experience.
For the audition, do you cook something and have an interview? How does that work?
AK: The audition was at a culinary school because they needed a professional kitchen. They wanted to put you in an unfamiliar environment. You cook a dish to a brief. I think it was your dream dish, or a dish that represents you. They tell you on the day whether you get through to the next round, which is interviews. The interview is more of a screen test to see how you talk, banter and respond to questions about yourself.
What did you cook?
I made cured kingfish with an ajoblanco sauce. Ajoblanco is a Spanish almond soup that I turned into a sauce. I had herb oil, chilli oil, garlic crisps and shredded spring onions with it. On the side was a seaweed crisp. I sandwiched seaweed with rice paper and deep-fried it so they could eat it with the kingfish.
That sounds amazing, and already quite advanced. Looking back, are you still proud of that dish? Can you see some naivety in it too?
AK: I think so. Even the way I sliced the fish: now I can see how different it is from what I thought sashimi-style slicing was. The nuance of the sauce too, how you don’t have to use just one vinegar. There are different flavours, balances, oils and things you can use. Even with the chilli oil and the seaweed crisp, I probably wouldn’t sandwich the seaweed with rice paper now. I’d dip it in tapioca starch and fry it.
TA: I asked him, “How did you know how to slice fish?”
AK: I didn’t really know how. I watched YouTube videos in the lead-up because they said if you wanted to use a fish, you had to bring a whole fish and fillet it yourself. I had to learn how to fillet and slice fish by myself. Luckily it was good enough, and they put me through.
TA: And that’s how I met him. We have a mutual friend, Kimberly, who’s a very good friend of both of us. She’d just won a San Pellegrino Young Chef Award and a Good Food chef award. She texted me and said, “I have a guy who wants to learn how to cut fish. He’s from MasterChef. Would you take him?” I said, “Of course.” For me, one sentence was enough: someone wants to learn. I don’t need to ask other questions. I trust her, and it’s rare to find someone who really wants to learn.
That’s interesting because, and I mean no offence, when I speak to chefs they sometimes lament MasterChef. They think people come off the show believing they’re chefs and ready to open restaurants. You’re different because you’d already been thinking about culinary school, but it’s great that you want to learn. What does the mentoring relationship look like? Do you come in every day?
AK: I come in two or three times a week. I came in wanting to learn more about the craft, and Thant has been very generous. Given everything he’s been through in the restaurant industry and how patient he had to be, it was funny that on my first day here he just said, “Cut some fish.” I said, “What? Are you sure?” He said, “Don’t worry. If you cut it a bit wrong, we can use it for something else.”
TA: With salmon, I can use it in different things: hand rolls or poke bowls. If he doesn’t cut it quite right, I can still use it. I’m not going to let him practise on expensive tuna. Salmon isn’t going in the bin even if the cut isn’t right.
I didn’t know much about Aaron when he first came. Only afterwards did I look at his Instagram and see that he does weekly cooking for his family. I was impressed when I saw him cutting vegetables. He had the basic skills, and that’s all you need. If I’d had to teach him the basics, it would have been different. At first I didn’t know his background. I asked what he did before, and he told me. I didn’t know how serious he was about cooking.
So I asked him to cut a few different things because I needed to see what skills he already had. Then I can polish them. I’d cut fish for ten years and watched lots of chefs, but watching my last boss in Albert Park polished my skills. Sometimes you need someone to show you a small difference. Cutting looks the same, but the details can be completely different.
I try to explain why I cut something a particular way. Someone else might do it differently, but I tell Aaron my reason, and that helps him understand faster. When I learnt from Japanese chefs, they didn’t explain why. They just showed me.
I always have a little bit left over at night. Usually I give it to my neighbours, like the frozen-yoghurt shop, or let my staff take some home, because I don’t want it to go in the bin. I thought Too Good To Go was better than throwing things away. My partner says, “You’re not making any money from this.” And I’m not making much, but at least I feed a family or somebody else. That’s much better than putting food in the bin.
Thant Aung, Hinata Premium Sushi and Sashimi
It’s good to know the why, isn’t it? When you were cooking in the competition, what’s the most dishes you’ve cooked in one go? I’m thinking about a restaurant, with all the orders coming in.
AK: There were a few team challenges where we had to serve around sixty people. In the semifinal we served twenty-five people by ourselves, so fifty dishes. Before the competition I used to do dinner parties, and the biggest was forty-four people, by myself, for Crystal’s birthday. But in an ordinary MasterChef challenge you’re usually focusing on one dish.
So that’s another thing you have to learn when you’re actually running a restaurant.
AK: Definitely. Restaurant cooking is completely different because it’s en masse. Everything has to be consistent. Every plate must look the same and be cooked the same. On MasterChef you put all your attention into a single dish. In a restaurant, the same level of detail has to carry across lots of dishes, and it can’t just be you. That’s why you need a team. Everybody has a role in cooking and plating. That’s the biggest difference I’ve seen moving from the competition into a professional kitchen.
What are the next steps for you? What do you want from this, and what do you want from your life? That’s a big question, I know, but what’s next?
AK: I’m happy to stay here for quite a while because there’s still so much for me to learn. But other opportunities are coming up too. Thant put me forward for a job at the Australian Open, and I’ve got through some of the interviews to work in the sushi and fine-dining side of it. I think it’s going to be insane, but really good experience. I’ve never worked in commercial catering on that scale.
TA: It’s very strict, especially when you’re cooking for players. You can’t make them sick. It’s a multimillion-dollar business. They have food for the players and the media, with different types of food in the canteens. I have friends who work at the Australian Open, so I talked to them and put Aaron forward. It’s good for him to see how they do things. When I was learning, I always wanted to see the differences between places. It’s not about being famous or building a reputation. It’s about having the experience.
And the scale would be so different. You’d see how they control food waste, for example, and how that compares with a small business like this.
That brings us to Too Good To Go, which is such a great concept. I know you’re interested in reducing waste. How did you get involved?
TA: One of their salespeople came in and asked whether I’d like to try it. I always have a little bit left over at night. Usually I give it to my neighbours, like the frozen-yoghurt shop, or let my staff take some home, because I don’t want it to go in the bin. I thought Too Good To Go was better than throwing things away. My partner says, “You’re not making any money from this.” And I’m not making much, but at least I feed a family or somebody else. That’s much better than putting food in the bin.
How does it work?
TA: Because I have a display cabinet, it’s hard to predict how much will be left. Some days are quiet and some are busy. People purchase through the app and come in during a collection window I’ve set, around seven to seven-thirty. They pick up a Surprise Bag of food. I haven’t really looked at the customer side of the app yet, but somebody picks up food almost every day. On a rainy day, when I have more left over, I might sell two or three surprise bags.
So they don’t know what they’re getting?
TA: No, they don’t know. I’ve had a couple of customers come back afterwards to dine in. They’d tried the sushi in a surprise bag, found it really fresh and wanted to try other dishes. Mostly I put sushi in the bags.
You said you don’t make money from it, but you do recover something?
TA: Not much, not what I would get selling it normally, but at least I recover something. And it’s exposure too. I can’t spend a lot on marketing, so this helps people discover us. It’s a kind of marketing.
And good for the planet.
TA: Yes, much, much better than throwing it away.
What’s next for Hinata?
TA: I’m not quite happy with just one shop. I want to discover more about myself, to see how far I can go. One day I heard him say, “The sky is the limit,” and now I use that.
You’re mentoring each other.
TA: Exactly. We ask each other lots of questions. We’re always talking about ideas: what could be better, what we could change. I know more about Japanese food than Aaron, but I don’t really cook Western dishes. Sometimes I don’t even know the name of a sauce, so I ask him. We exchange knowledge. I’m forty and he’s thirty, so it’s good for me to learn from the younger generation too. It’s better than just reading a book. We learn from each other, and maybe we can do something together. I can pass my knowledge on to somebody else.
I usually finish conversations by asking chefs what advice they’d give a young chef starting out. But what’s your advice to Aaron?
TA: You need passion, and the next most important thing is attitude. With passion and the right attitude, you’ll get somewhere. If you don’t want to accept anything from other people, you’re building a wall around yourself. You might be good on your own, but you won’t work well with a team.
I like Aaron’s attitude and his willingness to learn. I tell him he needs to run his own business one day, not just work for somebody else, because with your own restaurant you can create and present what you want. But don’t lose the basics of your cuisine. If you’re doing Japanese food, you need to know Japanese food first, and then you can add your own ideas. Sometimes fusion becomes confusion. If you want to do Malaysian food, do Malaysian food, and if you’re doing fusion, make it clear. People need to know what to expect.
Keep learning, listen to other people and have the right attitude. You don’t have to use every bit of advice somebody gives you, but you should listen. Someone is sharing their knowledge with you.
Even when I had management experience and had worked in different places, I still took casual jobs to support myself before opening the business. At Marvel, some chefs might have had less experience than me, but they were senior to me there. If they asked me to do something, I just said, “Yes, chef,” and did it. People would ask why I was so respectful, but it doesn’t matter who you are. You do your job. People respond to that attitude. That’s why they give you more shifts and more opportunities.
Hinata, 1-3 East Concourse, Beaumaris