Contemplating where to eat these days can involve recourse to an atlas such is the geographically diverse provenance of many restaurants and the food therein available.

An international city like Shanghai can boast the cuisines of more than a dozen different nations and that's without getting into the many regional variations. Arguments about the merits of one region's this over another region's that merely signpost pretentiousness and stall the important business of eating.

With restaurants from Suriname to Lebanon, Ethiopia to Mongolia, some confusion is inevitable.

I remember back in the not so distant when, where I'm from, there were basically two options: Chinese or Indian — simple.

The ongoing fixation among diners and restaurateurs alike with exoticism and the seemingly inexhaustible appeal of Thai food has led to stalwarts like Indian cuisine being somewhat sidelined. This is a shame since if it's exoticism that's required, it doesn't get much more so than the cuisine of the great sub-continent.

Vedas at 550 Jianguo Road W., near the junction with Wulumuqi Road and across the road from the ever so civilized Senses Wine Lounge is widely regarded by those in the know as Shanghai's finest Indian restaurant.

Vedas sagaciously goes down the open kitchen approach. Diners can see every corner of the kitchen and the brigade of chefs there engaged through the spectacular center piece window. Whilst the dining area is mostly terracotta coloring, dim lighting and intricately carved dark woods the driving engine of the establishment, the kitchen, is dazzlingly white as are the chefs' uniforms.

This sends a very clear and inarguable statement to diners: the chefs are serious about their kitchen and that's because they are deadly serious about the food they are preparing. It shows.

The fish pakora had a batter that was both light and crunchy whilst managing to refrain from the merest hint of oiliness or greasiness. The fish contained within, salmon, was cooked but not dried out as is the danger. Simply served on a copper dish with lemon and a little lettuce this partnered the pappadams well and was a tasty opener especially so when dunked in the dips.

Our mains comprised of sliced, boneless chicken breast cooked in the tandoor oven, vegetable biryani and black lentil dhal with the obligatory plain nan bread. The good chunk of chicken had an egg and spice glaze and it handsomely demonstrated the wonders of the tandoor as a means of cooking.

The meat was richly imbued with those charcoal and smoky flavors. Some time ago, there was a food fad in the West where every meal would be served with a garnish — a small salad — that would mostly wind up in the bin. The theory was that the garnish improved the look of the plate and it was inexpensive.

Another fad now appears to have befallen a number of places here in Shanghai: serve a mountain of lettuce with everything possible. The chicken came served on an entirely unnecessary raft of lettuce.

The biryani had a satisfying burn to it and it was dense — packed with all sorts of vegetables and topped with browned onion.

Again, the propensity of Indian food to err on the oily side was deftly and mercifully avoided, added to that the vegetables through the flavorsome rice had a welcome freshness.

The biryani had a clean, fresh heat and a wonderful complexity of tastes and textures, it would make a substantial and healthy meal in itself.

The black lentil dhal is made using one of the more humble of ingredients: the lentil. This unassuming, though extremely nutritious, pulse has been sustaining mankind since the beginning of time.

The Vedas chefs take and transform it, employing dozens of herbs and spices, into a dish that makes baked beans in tomato sauce seem positively primitive.

Eaten on the nan bread, spooned onto the biryani or just spooned into the mouth black bean lentil dhal is the business. And that, alas, left no room for desert, not even a wafer thin mint.

The restaurant space is agreeably simple: square tables for fours mostly, twos down one side by the beautiful wall and larger tables for parties off set at the far side. The Maharaja Lounge offers more of a bar feel with big screen sport.

The service throughout was exemplary — fastidious but relaxed, discreet but warmly friendly.

A meal for two with half a dozen Kingfisher beers cost 400 yuan (US$49.38).

Tel: 6445 8100