Khan Baba

Word is, Imran Khan – politician and former cricketer – dines at Khan Baba whenever he's in town.

If true, it's an impressive credential for a small Pakistani and Indian restaurant in Auburn.

Glowing words are written about head chef Mohammad Akram on the restaurant's website, which says he's a greatly experienced chef of fine Pakistani establishments.

Khan Baba sits within a busy row of shops and businesses in the centre of Auburn. Its decor – in red, orange and gold tones – is modern and features wooden floors and furniture. The stacked stone walls are hung with deep-orange wall hangings on one side and two flatscreen televisions on the other.

On our arrival, the Ashes are showing, a boon for cricket fans but an annoying distraction for everyone else.

At stumps, the TV pictures falter before freezing on an eerily grinning close-up of KFC's Colonel Sanders. His white-haired, white-suited presence stays there for the rest of the night, watching us like an unnerving piece of contemporary video art.

The first marvellous thing about Khan Baba is its mango lassi. Freshly made and not too sweet, the chilled goodness brings us to a sipping silence.

The second great thing is the value. During the evening, we order two entrees, four mains, two servings of naan, one serving of plain rice, one serving of peas pulao rice, four mango lassis and two desserts. The bill is less than $120, an astoundingly low total for four adults and two children eating three courses. The waitress, a cheerful woman with sincere queries about our happiness, even delivers teaspoonfuls of sugar-coated fennel seeds for the children.

While inexpensive, the food is also superb. The pastry on our vegetable samosa entrees is a marvel, forming light but hearty parcels filled with moist, well-spiced potato.

The men at the table ask for "hot" versions of the lamb rogan josh and chicken jalfrezi. "Really hot?" asks the waitress, her face delighted, but clearly wary, of the levels of spice they're used to. After some discussion, the men settle on "hot", which is approximately two levels below "truly hot" and at least two above "mild".

Both dishes are rich and tender, with fall-apart chicken and beef covered in rich, dark sauce flecked with chilli. They are certainly hot but the spice isn't all burn and no taste. The heat is countered by a silky mint yoghurt sauce and some cucumber raita – fresh shredded cucumber, onion, yoghurt and cumin. A lush mixed-vegetable korma is mopped up with a huge serving of plump naan and fragrant segments of fruit-filled peshwari naan.

The winning dish is the pepper fish – fillets sauteed with crushed pepper, brown onion, lemon juice and onion sauce. Much lighter and creamier than its description suggests, the fish holds the citrus and pepper flavours beautifully.

This is filling food but we're not reduced to that stuffed, lolling sensation that Indian and Pakistani food sometimes produces. The memory of each dish is of flavour and freshness, not stodge. There's even room to sample the desserts. We share two small silver dishes of gulab jamun – dark-brown dumplings made from milk floating in a warm and sweet rose-scented syrup – and ras malai – white dumplings in sweetened and thickened milk, served chilled. Again, it's all about flavour. Rich, hot, sweet, lemony and fresh. We'll be back.