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There are some exciting restaurant concepts around town right now, but sometimes it’s more exciting to discover a restaurant that isn’t a concept at all. Something that just happens through love of family and pride in your own culture.

Executive chef and co-owner Augustus De Hoedt closed his popular Sri Lankan cafe The Fold in Dulwich Hill in July in order to open Kurumba in Surry Hills in August. Joining him are his pastry chef sons Travin and Jason, pastry chef daughter-in-law Saaya Takahashi, and wife Dilki acting as front of house.

It’s a typically skinny Surry Hills terrace, with stools lining a long counter and the window downstairs, and table dining (yet to open) upstairs. The first thing you see is the hopper bar, with a big jug of the fermented rice flour and coconut milk batter on standby, ready to form into light, delicate bowl-shaped crepes.

To the rear is a sizeable kitchen, where the chefs work cleanly, methodically and collaboratively. (Most families would squabble, surely. “We have our moments,” laughs Jason, when I ask). The fit-out is smart and attractive but not so smart that it looks out of reach for ordinary mortals.

Pan rolls ($12) are a good move; fat, evenly crumbed and fried rolled crepes stuffed with shredded, smoked and slow-cooked brisket, with a refreshingly tart pineapple ketchup for dipping.

Barman/sommelier Ryan Gandiaga is busy shaking ruby-pink Silk Road cocktails (vodka, elderflower, berries, rose), as the flavours of hot butter soft-shell crab ($28) sneak up on me. What looks like a stir-fry is a richly coated, fruitily sauced toss of charred spring onions and juicy quartered crab that you can crunch right through. A small bowl of black garlic aioli to the side is so not required.

Kimbula kithul, the treacly sap of the palm flower, is a recurring grace note, infused into a malty Kubb beer ($12), from Bread & Brewery in Morisset on the Central Coast, and bringing its dark sweetness to sauces and desserts.

Sri Lankan cooking covers so much ground that you can keep things simple here, with just a light, beautifully separated savoury rice ($8) strewn with raisins, cashews and fried onions, and a small bowl of green mango curry in a rich coating sauce ($18) garnished with whorls of dried bitter gourd.

Or you can push the boat out with the signature lobster kottu ($65), in which a comforting mix of chopped roti, egg, curry leaves, coriander and lobster meat is squished back into half a WA lobster shell, with a bisque-like curry sauce for pouring.

Hoppers are a must (plain $5, egg $6), along with a jammy onion seeni sambol ($3). Faced with a strong desire to rip, tear and dunk my slightly soft hoppers, I ask if there’s a right way to eat, Sri Lankan style. “There’s no wrong way,” says Gandiaga.

Soft, giving beef short ribs fly a flag for the warmth and depth of Sri Lankan spices, from coriander and cumin to dried lime, curry leaves, pandan, lemongrass and chilli.

Sauces are universally masterful; mostly thick, dark reductions of onions, ginger and garlic, shot with tomato, tamarind and often a touch of coconut milk, with the localised garnish of saltbush in lieu of curry leaves (nice touch).

Wines by the glass are sympathetically chosen, especially a fragrant, biscuity Credaro Kinship chardonnay ($15) from WA’s Margaret River.

With more pastry chefs per square metre than most restaurants, desserts are surprisingly simple (a selection of cakes will soon be added). A lactic pond of loose buffalo curd ($12) is ringed with dark, sticky treacle; and a soft-serve machine delivers a pretty pink rose syrup-infused faluda ($19) adorned with crystallised pistachios. Crowned with a maraschino cherry, it’s fine-textured and sherbety.

Kurumba may look deceptively simple and bright, but this is complex cooking full of dark, roasted flavours and aromas, from a family of chefs cooking the food they love. What a concept.