Desi with a twist.

Byline: d'fusion promises to tempt your taste buds with fusion creations which both hit and miss.

d'fusion promises to tempt your taste buds with fusion creations which both hit and miss. If you read teen novels or buy those inspirational little books sold next to the till in bookstores, you'll know the theory is that it's what's inside that counts. This holds true as much for restaurants as it does for people. I'm not one to judge a restaurant by its cover, but d'fusion's colourful pamphlets - covered with kitsch Indian imagery like Bollywood posters and street signs - had me thinking this was going to be the desi version of Smiling BKK. Hopefully with fewer inflatable animals.

But the dark, pre-fab wood interior of the restaurant, which opened recently in a hotel in deepest Barsha, seemed to have no correlation with the adverts - or even the menus. Those, too, are colourful, quirky and funny - and full of tempting things to eat.

d'fusion promises desi (Indian) cuisine with a twist. Some of the items fit the bill (Indian-spiced lasagna); some were simply twisted (tandoori paneer sushi). We kicked off with a Mexican bhel puri to go with our golas, or shaved ice drinks. Bhel puri, a wet-dry mix of puffed rice, broken fried bread and onions, usually moistened with sour tamarind sauce, here had the addition of cheese tortilla chips (straight from a packet, I imagine) and those sour pickled green chilies you get at the nacho stand. Fresh tomato salsa and guacamole (the avocado could have been riper) is slathered over the top. Sounds like a mess, but it's addictive and perfect with pre-dinner drinks.

Bhel puri is just one of the chaats (street snacks) on offer - a chap will wheel up a cart and make them to your taste, which is how we ended up also sharing a plate of sev puri topped with processed cheddar cheese (not the promised parmesan). We could have gone on all evening picking at any of the 10-odd chaats, but our waitress suggested a tikka hammour kebab (mahi tikka lasoo) to get things moving.

The fish was perfect, large chunks marinated in spiced yoghurt and seared until they were just cooked, leaving them moist and smoky. A hot, lushly green coriander chutney was the perfect partner, but the onions on the side were feeble, as if they had been soaked in water beforehand.

The fish was from the regular menu, while the cheesy chaats were part of the fusion menu, which overall looked like a lot of fun - like a fairground with lots of crazy rides. But there's always the chance you'll take it too far and end up on a roller coaster that leaves you green-faced.

The sushi element of the fusion menu was, for us, that roller coaster. It just didn't work, as much as I wanted it to - if you can put mayonnaise and chilli in sushi rolls, then why not paneer and tandoori spice?

If you don't care for chaat and can't face sushi, there is one very good reason you should check out d'fusion: the lamb shanks. Recommended by our waitress (who, like all the staff, wore adorable d'fusion dungarees), these shanks are worth travelling for. It's not a cut that's regularly used in Indian cuisine, thus making this dish a kind of fusion - the best kind.

The lamb, as it should be, was braised in liquid - in western cuisine this would be a rich vegetable broth. Here, the addition of spices brought it to somewhere between a curry and a stew, but with a light gravy that allowed the sweetness of the meat to shine. It fell off the bone in juicy, melting hunks, ready to be scooped up with fresh buttered naan and mint (hey, it's lamb!) parathas.

While waiting for our desserts, we were treated to a few choice Hindi tunes from the house band, who also take requests, and perform them with the gusto of a first-time karaoke singer.

Ideally, a platter of Indian desserts should round off a fiercely flavoured meal on a sinfully saccharine note. Unfortunately, the d'fusion dessert platter - comprising mini jamuns (marble-sized cottage cheese balls dunked in sweet syrup), lentil halwa, jalebis (messy pretzels laced with sugar syrup) and rabri (patties in milk sauce and pistachio shavings) - lacked the sweet punch.

The jalebis were deep fried to perfection but lacked the quintessential spongy but sweet flavour, while the lentil halwa was rather dry. But the hit of the evening were the mini jamuns. It ticked all the boxes in terms of flavour, degree of sweetness, size and divine taste. I usually find the idea of regular-sized jamuns oddly unsettling, but loved the miniature version.

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