St Julian's may be more well-known as a hub for party-goers and people looking for a good time, but it would be foolish to write off the restaurants in the area because of this reputation. From Spinola Bay upwards, there’s a new crop of intriguing dining spots and eateries from all corners of the world popping up, and many of them are worth braving the crowds for – especially if you go during the week, before the weekend warriors descend in full force.

Rasoi is one such restaurant, although it’s not new per se. It used to be known as SaReGaMa, occupying a spot at the Fortina Hotel since 2011. Since Fortina closed for refurbishment late last year, the restaurant moved to slightly more humble digs at the Dean Hamlet hotel, next to the Anvil Pub. It’s a cheap and cheerful three-star hotel which hosts English language students for three weeks every summer, but don’t let it put you off – Rasoi is worth the journey.

Upon our arrival, my dining companion and I were greeted by Marietta, an incredibly likeable maître d' from Hungary who is the personification of charm itself. She brought the drinks trolley over, and suggested that we kick off our evening by trying out an Indian single malt whiskey called Amrut. Amrut tastes subtly oaky, with a light dusting of peat and spices – its warmth and complexity means that it’s the perfect warm-up for the array of spicy dishes ahead.

When it comes to wine, you can order by the bottle or by the glass – Rasoi uses the Coravin system, a contraption familiar to wine connoisseurs but rarely seen in local restaurants, which inserts a thin, hollow needle through the cork. The bottle is then pressurized with argon. Once it has been pressurised, the wine flows through the needle and pours into your glass. After the wine is poured, the needle is removed, and the cork reseals itself, which keeps opened wines fresher for longer. I had a glass of 2015 Sancerre which was fresh and crisp.

Rasoi is Hindi for ‘kitchen’ and the open kitchen at the restaurant is certainly unique – I’ve never seen one like it in an Indian restaurant in Malta. Patrons can sit at the bar and watch the head chef and the tandoor chef whizz their way around the kitchen, working their tasty magic. Susheel, the affable tandoor chef, is from North Delhi, and he is in charge of everything that goes into the tandoor oven, from the rounds of freshly-baked naan bread which you’ll hear him vigorously slapping into shape, to the meat speared on a long harpoon-like skewer, which made an appearance in our starter dish.

Our starter was the Sa Re Ga Ma Special Sizzler – a colourful dish for two consisting of chicken cooked in different yet equally delicious marinades, pieces of powerfully moreish lamb seekh kebab, and keema samosa – light pastry triangles filled with lamb mince, fried prawns, and onion bhaji, all served sizzling. The flavours were all gorgeous, and the two kinds of sauces that were served with the dish, a fruity chutney and a mint sauce, only served to enhance them.

The Special Sizzler was followed by three kinds of curry. The first, methi malai murgh is a tandoor-cooked chicken in creamy, fenugreek curry. I think fenugreek is a really underrated spice, and it really made the rest of the ingredients in the mix sing. The second, saag gosht, was like a non-vegetarian version of palak paneer, which is one of my favourite dishes to order at an Indian restaurant – this had chunks of wonderfully tender lamb cooked in a mild curry with fresh greens. The third and final curry was prawn allepey, a South Indian dish with prawns cooked in a sweet mango and coconut milk curry, which was probably my personal favourite of the evening, although making me pick just one is cruel! Everything was just wonderful. We ordered two portions of rice – jeera and saffron – and a portion of naan, and demolished the lot. “How’s your food?” Susheel asked earnestly from the kitchen, mid-way through the course, and beamed when we gave him the thumbs up, mouths too full to say anything coherent except “Mmmm!”

Marietta came over to check if everything was all right (it was) and asked if we wanted to have a look at the dessert menu (we did). Despite being so full that we were close to being wheeled out on the drinks trolley, my dining pal and I decided to split a portion of gulab jamun. Gulab jamun are small balls made from milk solids, deep-fried and soaked in a light sugary syrup flavoured with cardamom and rose water. They taste like a squishy, exotic version of the little sugar doughnuts you get at a village feast.

So many places nowadays are described as hidden treasures, but Rasoi fits the bill to a tee. It is tucked away out of sight, and its décor is simple and unassuming – unlike many other Indian restaurants, the owner hasn’t invested too much in kitschy bits and bobs. Instead, the focus here is on excellent, authentically Indian food that warms your stomach and your soul, made by talented chefs and served by people who know the meaning of hospitality. We’ll make it a point to come back again.