"There's no wrong way to eat here," says Abdirahman Abdi, owner of House of Mandi, a Yemeni rice restaurant. That's lucky, because I've taken the "no cutlery" option and a cube of beef has fallen down my sleeve as far as my armpit and the cute baby in the highchair on the other side of the room is wearing less rice down her front than I am.

There is still plenty of opportunity to practise. In front of me is a huge family platter of mandi, a traditional Yemeni dish in which long-grain rice is cooked under meat on a rack. As the meat cooks, its juices drip onto the rice below, swelling it to flavoursome tenderness.

Traditionally, mandi is prepared in a tandoor-style oven dug into the earth, but where that is not practical – such as here, on Racecourse Road – purpose-built cylindrical electric ovens are used. They seal tight to trap moisture and cook both meat and rice to succulence. Mandi is related to the Arabic word for "dew" and is a pointer to the moist, tender state of the meat after it is slow cooked.

You can order your mandi with lamb, chicken or beef (or all three) but the rice is always cooked with lamb because it is the richest, juiciest and drippiest. Flavours are simple: salt and pepper, cumin and turmeric, lemon and chilli, cinnamon and onion. This isn't fancy food, and the restaurant is very sparse, but it's honest, satisfying and cheap. The hospitality is sincere, too; a free lamb broth kicks off the meal.

Abdi's background is Somali, though he was born in Saudi Arabia, and moved to Melbourne when he was 10. Why is a Somali guy doing Yemeni rice, you might wonder? The two countries are separated only by a sliver of Arabian Sea, and Yemeni mandi is popular in the coastal areas of Somalia. Abdi, an electrical engineer and food lover, was missing his favourite rice dish so he opened House of Mandi a year ago in Melbourne's bustling little Somalia (read Dani's reviews of #SomaliEats and New Somali Kitchen).

The name signposts the focus but House of Mandi opens early for shakshuka (baked eggs), ful (mashed fava beans) and masoub (banana pudding). Later in the day, you can also order Somali-style spaghetti with meat sauce, a hangover from Italian colonials, or a Saudi-style rice dish called bukhari, sweetened with raisins and carrots.

There is no alcohol but it is traditional to drink yoghurt with mandi: grab one, tangy and slightly salty, from the fridge. Camel milk is available too, fresh from Shepparton. It is a common milk in Africa and I bought some to have with the next day's morning coffee: it is rich, slightly salty and apparently very healthy. Otherwise, there is delicious spiced ginger tea.

Got a (teetotalling) party to plan? There are two upstairs rooms (majlis), each seating around 25 on the floor, ready and waiting to host your rice feast.

So, about my mess. There is no shame in using cutlery, but those adept at eating with their hands say it is the best way to enjoy food. Before the mandi arrives, our table is spread with a plastic cloth, like a bib for the table, and Abdi walks around with a kettle of warm water to pour over your hands to wash them. It is a lovely gesture. And  though I still have no idea how to elegantly eat rice with my fingers, I have a tasty time trying.

Rating: Three stars (out of five)