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Reluctant but curious, I’m at Crown, my least favourite place in Melbourne, throat scratchy from walking through the signature scent in the lobby, gliding by restaurants that strike me as a catalogue of the past, remembering that lost feeling I get here: haven’t I already been on this escalator?

But that’s not everyone. People come here to gamble, eat, shop, sleep, conference and have their Big Night Out. Crown Resorts is also a leading hospitality trainer and has an excellent disability employment program: good things can be done with pokies pain.

Belatedly and kind of by accident, Crown has given Victoria’s sizeable Indian community a premium restaurant; Kolkata Cricket Club is a watershed. Block out the jacked-up excess of the casino and you find yourself in a restaurant that feels real, right and resonant.

Hospitality entrepreneur Dave Mackintosh (IDES, Chadstone’s Cinque Terre) and Australian-Indian chef Mischa Tropp (vibey Toddy Shop) have been chatting possibilities for a while. Tropp’s style of Indian cooking is versatile and savvy, based on traditions and skills learnt from aunties on his subcontinental excursions and anchored in Antipodean freedoms.

Mackintosh is adept at spotting talent and giving it the parameters to shine. When the old San Antone site at Crown popped up, the pair were impressed by the kitchen’s exhaust vent for solid fuel (extremely rare in a shopping arcade). It meant they could cook with charcoal and tandoor: Indian food would taste right.

“Tropp’s creamy but light butter chicken is the business, but he’s brave to tackle dishes such as kosha mangsho (goat curry).”

Kolkata Cricket Club is a knowing reclamation of India’s colonial history and it’s been embraced by diaspora diners who are rightly proud of their culinary treasures. Evoking a gentlemanly sporting club, there’s vintage cricket memorabilia, old games on a TV (go Boony!), blockprint lamps from Jaipur and elegant folding chairs.

Kolkata (once Calcutta) is the capital of West Bengal. Tropp represents that state’s cuisine alongside more mainstream crowdpleasers (his creamy but light butter chicken is the business).

He’s brave to tackle dishes such as kosha mangsho, the goat curry that every Bengali’s mother makes best, but does it with such deft layering of fat and spice that sceptical experts are seduced.

I love the okra, blanched and wood-roasted so its sappy centre becomes jellied without full collapse.

The macher bhorta – often made with carp – is instantly my favourite kingfish dish in town: salty, smoky fish is mashed with lime and green chilli, seasoned with zippy mustard oil, then hidden under fresh herbs.

Saag paneer – a ubiquitous spinach and cheese curry – is a paragon, thick and glossy with cheese so soft and fresh; it’s restrained and bold at once.

The open-service kitchen uses only fire and tandoor to cook. Luckily, there’s a superlative craftsman at the helm. Gopal Joshi did his chef’s apprenticeship in 1968; if you love the puff on your pea-stuffed naan or the juicy char of the lamb kebab, you can thank him.

Service in the 130-seat restaurant can feel stretched when it’s busy, but there are ways to ease the wait. Delve into the drinks list for cocktails with Indian flavours – I’d go back just to sip a Marigold martini at the bar – and there are wines by local, Indian-origin winemakers such as Michael Dhillon from Bindi and Shashi Singh from Avani.

It’s a joy to see Indian dining celebrated in an upscale setting. Maybe there’s no better arena for post-colonial gourmandising than Crown, a place named after a monarch’s silly headwear.

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine