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“Where do people that live in Margaret River eat and drink?”

It’s a question that visitors to the South West Google and ponder incessantly, hopeful that a local will spill the beans on somewhere to get a taste of The Real Margaret River™.

I’m no Margaret River local, but after infiltrating numerous southwest friendship groups, I like to think I’ve gleaned a few insights into regional dining habits.

There are, of course, the classics. The Saturday Margaret River farmers’ market, say. (See Nadia and Cam at the Harlequin Dessert caravan for vegan and gluten-free baked goods of the highest calibre). Settlers Tavern remains a blueprint for the dream country pub, while local aquanauts congregate at White Elephant Cafe for post-swim coffees over winter.

Yet the community has also found space in its heart for newer arrivals.

Newcomers such as Miki’s Open Kitchen, a singular, regionally focused tempura restaurant that’s also one of the township’s few options for a flash dinner. (See also de’sendent, a contemporary, Japanese-inspired restaurant that opened in January.) The terrific burgers at Normal Van have won it many admirers, while many working parents confess to having the hots for Domino’s and how it’s helped make weeknight dinners a little more manageable. Margaret River, my friends, is a-changing.

If you didn’t expect the Margaret River food discussion to include pizza, you’ll probably be surprised to hear that the cafe at the local skate park also cops a mention. Or at least on the nights that it gets hijacked by young go-getters, Imogen Mitchen and Corey Rozario.

Since last May, the couple have used the space to host their pop-up, Dahl Daddys: a fresh-faced curry canteen serving food inspired by Rozario’s South Asian heritage (dad was Burmese, mum was British.) Yes, Rozario knows that he doesn’t look typically Burmese, yet he’s not cooking typically Burmese, either.

Take Dahl Daddys’ namesake. As anyone familiar with South Asian food knows, “standard” dahl recipes don’t exist and cooking methods vary from house to house, family member to family member. When I first tasted Rozario’s dahl last winter, I was stunned by its deep, warming complexity. What is this sorcery? How does not-so-old mate get this much flavour from legumes? How do I taste Papa Rozario’s OG dahl that this is based on, I wondered.

Fast-forward 18 months and Rozario has fine-tuned and streamlined his dahl game to create something that still bangs while being less time-intensive to prepare: crucial for a kitchen that only starts cooking once the cafe closes and has just four hours to get dinner up. Previously made with a mix of legumes, Rozario’s dahl is now all red lentil. A vivid spiced ghee brings colour and the low buzz of chilli to the party. In the early days, modular menus let guests fine-tune orders with Rozario’s wondrous housemade condiments. Now chef accessorises dishes himself, perhaps deploying a zippy lemon pickle as a sharp counterpoint to the dahl, or using balachaung – a fiery, crunchy mass of fried onion and seafood – to really redline flavour levels.

While the dahl is always on, the rest of the menu is fluid and reflects Rozario’s whims and the ingredients at hand. When papayas are ripening in Carnarvon, Dahl Daddys serves thin baw thee thoke ($22): Burma’s equivalent to Thailand’s famous shredded green papaya salad, som tum. Rozario’s zesty version is low on sugar, high on toasted sesame seeds and fried split yellow peas – plus the fruit and veg is shaved into svelte threads rather than sliced into fat chunks. Pickled tea leaves are coarsely blitzed into a paste and used to dress scraps of shaved cabbage in a cool interpretation of laphet thoke ($22).

Although vegetarians will feel seen here, meatier dishes are also part of the kitchen’s repertoire. You can get your dahl bulked out with grilled line-caught nannygai from Augusta ($37); or you can subject yourself to the sadistic joys of a wicked prawn curry ($38) where the prawns’ heads form the base of the fiery, weapons-grade gravy and their bodies are separately grilled until just-so. While curries and dahl all come with jasmine rice as standard-issue, side orders of flaky paratha ($4.50) are essential for plate-mopping purposes.

The nature of Dahl Daddys’ operation means that there are limited serves of everything each night. Come late and you’ll likely miss out on Thai pad krapow ($35) stir-fried with local kangaroo, or charcoal-grilled chicken satay ($12). True, “sold out” stickers are no one’s idea of a good time, but the warm nature of staff such as Lewis Stephens and Monique Piper – and of course Rozario and Mitchell themselves – goes a long way to taking the sting out of that FOMO. It doesn’t hurt either that dinner is served in a fuss-free, outdoor space soundtracked by dreamy beats. It’s a setting that feels distinctly, wonderfully Margaret River and Dahl Daddys is, for my money, one of the South West’s most unique, delicious and essential dining addresses.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention the solitary dessert: an excellent raspberry and hazelnut brownie ($8.50) starring local Bahen & Co chocolate that has the chocolate content of six lesser brownies. Predictable, someone jokingly asks if the brownies were baked with any additional ingredients. Perhaps something of the seven-leafed, resinous variety. Not this time. Instead of edible weeds, these brownies feature sprigs of colourful Geraldton wax snipped from local plants. Margaret River, my friends, is a-changing.