Vanakkam

The number 65 appears repeatedly on the lengthy subcontinental menu at modest, warm-hearted Vanakkam. The 65 has nothing to do with price or quantity: it's the name of a spicy south Indian sauce, the origin of which is variously attributed to the year it was invented (perhaps 1965), the notion that it was item No. 65 at a well-stocked barracks eatery, even that it was made to sauce up 65-day-old chickens.

Who knows? What isn't disputed is the basic composition: chilli powder, ginger and garlic, rubbed onto meat (usually chicken) which is then deep fried. Vanakkam also lets the sauce work its magic on mushrooms, paneer and prawns.

The mushroom 65 dosa is a wonderful dish. Dosa are crispy south Indian crepes made with rice and lentil flour batter. This one is slathered with potato masala, curry leaves and mushrooms given the bright red 65 treatment, then rolled to an innocent-looking scroll. It's powerfully spicy but, like the best hot and heavy dishes, other flavours find their way through.

Idly are fermented, steamed rice and lentil cakes, often eaten for breakfast. For Vanakkam's chilli version, the idly are cut and fried, then ­tossed with capsicum and onion. Idly can be firm little bullets but these are spongy, sour and superb.

The usual north Indian suspects are all here (butter chicken, lamb vindaloo, excellent tandoor dishes) but I couldn't keep away from lesser seen Indian-Chinese and southern fare like dosa, idly, and Hyderabadi-style biryani, which I felt encouraged to order after watching Indian families take away massive pots of pilaf, presumably to fuel parties. The goat biryani is cooked to flavourful fluffiness with chunks of slow-braised meat.

Vanakkam is cheap, but it's earnest rather than cheerful. I'm impressed with the house-made ethic that permeates an unwieldy menu and I reckon there'll be biryani as well as snags at my Grand Final barbecue.

Rating: Three stars (out of five)