By Leigh O’Connor.
Aaron Schembri’s story is one of return, discovery and quiet determination. He was born and raised in Daylesford, growing up amidst the rolling hills, forested ridgelines and country calm of Victoria.
One of six children, life at home was lively, sometimes chaotic and never quiet - and somehow, in all of that, Aaron found clarity: to cook, to create, to explore.
At around 15, Aaron made a bold choice. He left school early and moved a half-hour from home into a rented place, determined to begin an apprenticeship and dive deep into kitchen life. The structure, the heat, the intensity - it all grounded him. Over the next few years, he moved through kitchens in Victoria and Queensland, seeking every chance to refine, to push, to grow.
Yet it was an abiding fascination with Japan - its techniques, its subtlety, its reverence for ingredients - that shifted the trajectory of his career. Through his wife, Risa and her grandfather Nobuya, Aaron discovered a world he felt pulled toward. He travelled repeatedly to Japan, learning from masters of tofu, sashimi, fermentation, age-old artisans whose hands moved decades of ritual. He absorbed lessons in flavour, texture, restraint, detail.
Eventually, that journey brought him home - to Daylesford. He and Risa joined forces to open Kadota, a restaurant that feels like an embodiment of their shared passions. The name reflects Risa’s heritage, but the soul is equally theirs together. Kadota is not a flashy monument - it’s warm, intimate, poised and full of quiet care.
Inside, the dining room is minimal and elegant. Walls clad in charred timber, hand-crafted chopsticks resting on brass holders, tables set so light you feel the space breathe. The menu is a carefully considered ‘reconsidered Kaiseki’ - a tasting journey of seasonal courses, shifting with the land, respectful of provenance and technique.
On the plate you might find sashimi of kingfish served simply on rock salt, or scallops dressed in rose and ponzu, or Wagyu prepared with shaved rice, seaweed, pickles, subtle sauces. There is a dialogue between East and West in Aaron’s cooking - his Maltese and Italian heritage meeting the discipline of Japanese ideas. He layers flavour, but never overwhelms. He crafts beauty, but always with purpose.
Yet for all his technical mastery, Aaron remains delightfully human. He speaks openly about his early struggles - the scattered youth, the search for direction - and how cooking gave him a course. He’ll talk about the fear and exhilaration of opening Kadota during the beginning of a global crisis, with limited funds and so many unknowns, but he insists those challenges revealed what mattered most: heart, connection, honesty.
When diners sit at Kadota, Aaron hopes they feel more than just fed. He wants them to feel seen, invited, part of something. He calls on a Japanese concept - omotenashi - meaning selfless hospitality, the offering of care in every detail, from the scent in the air to the choice of plate to the timing of each course.
Kadota has become a regional light - people come from afar to taste what Aaron and Risa have built. Yet Aaron carries himself modestly. He says he still has so much to learn, that every trip to Japan shows him how much further the horizon lies.
Now, that horizon includes his hometown: Daylesford, a little restaurant and the chance to bring people together through food that is both exacting and generous.
To dine at Kadota is to be invited into Aaron’s journey. You taste the discipline, the heritage, the boldness, the humility — but above all, you taste a man who came home to build something beautiful.
