These are good people and I really want to say lovely things about their restaurant. Daana is no fine diner, nor does it have to be. The surfaces are hard, the napkins are paper, the menu comes in a plastic A4 folder and the greenery is plastic as well. In our seats, the lighting is as bright as Wankehede Stadium during an Indian Premier League final and although I could really go for some traditional Hindi music, we can only hear Kenny G like elevator tunes. But the food is incredible. This is, however, a restaurant review and that means a review of the whole.

My cricketing mate, and dining companion, has played a few games on the subcontinent, so I have invited him to join me tonight, and with cricket and India intertwined to its core, so too is our conversation about Daana. Indian restaurants in Australia tend to have rambling menus of curries with multiple combinations of meats, vegetarian and seafood, but the Daana menu is small and focused, and the chef, in my opinion, is doing for Indian food what The Ottoman did for Turkish dining in Canberra 25 years ago.

Tonight, there are a few great shots played by Daana, but they also let a few chances slip through their hands. Such as losing our booking. But that doesn't matter when there are plenty of seats, and we are briskly mixed in with the other patrons who were all washing back their paneer and biryani with a BYO bottle or two. Speaking of which, a Kingfisher beer ($11) sounds like a great suggestive sell to a couple of tourists, but we certainly can't accuse the wait staff of crowding the bat.

We work our way into the "Milaap" Feast, which is $83 for three courses including dessert. At let's say, $24 for an entrée, $44 for a main and $15 for dessert, this is IPL pricing. And the first dish of Delhi ka samosa chaat suggests the standard here is certainly Test match level. The fluffy, delicate samosas are tempered with a mix of chutneys and explode in the mouth with flavours of tamarind, chickpeas and curry; a great opening spell that Kapil Dev would have been proud of. Chettinad eral chukka is at the non-strikers end backing up, waiting; a delicious medley of prawns in spiced coconut masala with kelp bush dukkah. Crunchy, fresh, tropical and balanced, with the acid and sweetness of crunchy pineapple. The dukkah has notes of sesame, wattle seed and mountain pepper and we are starting to feel like Punjab Kings.

It's time for a drinks break and with a choice of six whites and five reds, this is a pretty flat wicket to play with. The list includes some commercial labels but no star emerging talent. Nick O'Leary Riesling ($14) is a great and reliable all-rounder, but we have seen him play all over town. This may also be a reason for the high level of BYO around the room and I feel a little more effort here could really break open the competition. Kerala salmon curry and red rice is a most beautiful dish of fresh, golden salmon, cooked in a rustic coconut-based curry, studded with shallots, native pepper and lemon myrtle. Although the form guide says red rice, this has somehow been dropped from the line-up without notice. I did contemplate a DRS review but thought better of it.

The middle order now enters with a Chowringhee Road chicken bharta with mughalai paratha. This is a traditional Bengali dish of pulled chicken and boiled eggs cooked in buttery mildly spiced gravy, made with cashew nuts and chicken stock. The paratha (flatbread) is textured, chewy (in a good way) and bounds its way effortlessly around our plates like a wing-footed boundary rider. We really didn't need the four papadums that we ordered, although I realise later that we paid for eight.

Despite my companion's view that we should just declare and pull up stumps after mains, when there is only two desserts to choose from, it makes sense to me to try and chase a big total, so we pressed on. Whilst I'm sure that these desserts were both technically correct, I have to question the appetite from the local crowd for the flavours of slow-cooked carrot pudding with thread vermicelli and macadamia nuts, as well as lentils and rice "Adda" (pasta), slow-cooked with coconut milk and cardamom. We eat less than half and nobody appears to be overly surprised. The poor old tailenders have failed to deliver a score that would have been an awesome total.

So the savoury food has been top drawer and an Indian coffee might have been a nice finish but it doesn't show up. We decide to just ask for the account and head for the pavilion. Although stumps have been pulled at 9.30pm and we are the only people left in the venue, instructions are to pay on the way out. It probably wouldn't hurt just to send the account over as an easy delivery and wrap things up, and after an unscheduled delay, they do.

You can't miss Daana. The food certainly outplays the restaurant but then again some may question, why else would you go to a restaurant?

Address: 83 Theodore St, Curtin

Phone: 51051048

Website: daana.com.au

Hours: Monday to Saturday, 5.30-9.30pm; Saturday, noon-2pm.

Owners and chefs: Sunita and Sanjay Kumar

Dietary: Plenty of good options

Noise: We went on a Thursday night which was fine, but turn up the hearing aids for a Saturday