Hashida Singapore embraces the theme of Sandō, a pathway or pilgrimage route leading from the outermost torii entrance to the innermost quarters of a Shinto shrine. The concept comes to life from the entrance of the restaurant, where guests are welcomed by a distinctive torii (shrine gate) before proceeding down a hallway leading to the honden (main hall), the most sacred space in a Shinto shrine.

Room A is named after the moon — as in “詠”, read “ei” in onyomi (compound kanji reading) — and characterised by a blend of modern and traditional Japanese elements. A mesmerising structure of washi paper is suspended from the ceiling, its undulating texture mimicking the rocky surface of a planet, the roil of clouds, or the peaks of mountains or waves. Open to interpretation, the structure reflects both Chef Hatch’s uninhibited culinary imagination and his desire to impart a thought-provoking dining experience.

The room is adorned in elegant gradients of grey that both create the illusion of added dimensions as well as symbolise the transition from day to night. This concept pays homage to the efforts of fishermen, farmers, and the logistics industry, who tirelessly supply Chef Hatch with the finest seasonal ingredients even while he rests at night. The walls pair with the texture of the ceiling to create a visual of the moon in the night sky; because like the moon which cannot shine independently, a chef relies on connection to others — suppliers, industry partners, guests — to thrive. Guests are seated along a wooden counter crafted from Hiba wood.

In the hallway, a tiny astronaut — Chef Hatch’s mini-me — peers down from a nook in the ceiling. The hollow reveals a grey craggy interior like the lunar surface — all inspired by Chef Hatch’s fascination with astronomy.

Further along the hallway, a concrete slab protrudes from the wall directly opposite the grill within Room A, the two features emblemising komainu, the statues of guardian lions that are found at Shinto shrines. The open mouth of the grill is also a visual representation of the beginning “a” sound in the Japanese alphabet, its counterpart the rectangular line of concrete imagery for the “n” sound of the last character. The slab measures 36.9cm, with the numbers representing creativity, family, and humanitarianism respectively. Read in Japanese, the numbers also sound like miryoku, meaning “charm” or “charisma”. Chef Hatch sees added significance in each numerical being a multiple of the prime number three, divisible only by itself. A nod to the underlying theme of universality, the multiples of three refer to genomic variants related to DNA sequencing.

Room B is distinctly traditional, featuring thatched awnings and the same Hiba wood of Room A. Aptly located beyond the torii and constructed entirely out of wood, this room is the reproduction of a saisen-bako, an offertory box found within shrines as one journeys down the Sandō pathway. Room B is so named for its similarity to the sound of the character “贔”, read “bi”. The character is made up of the repeated element “貝”, romanised as “kai”, meaning shell — a reference to the use of shells predating money as offerings at shrines.

Hanging above the entrance of Room O is the sign reading “笑門” — romanised shomon, warakado — a play on the proverb “warau kado ni wa fuku kitaru (笑う角には福きたる)”, which teaches that good fortune comes to a place of laughter and positivity. This sign is commonly found decorating restaurant entrances; a bigger version graces the entrance of Hashida Tokyo.

Chef Hatch’s painting of a three-legged crow, the mythical yatagarasu, decorates the exterior of Room O. Chef Hatch was inspired by the legends surrounding the first Japanese emperor, and Shinto mythology, to create this artwork. Room O is named after the character for sakura, “桜”, which is read in onyomi as “ou”; and its showpiece is a counter crafted from rare 200-year-old Sakura wood.