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You don’t get too many restaurants showing Irish sitcom Father Ted on one television while a Bollywood action flick plays on another. There aren’t many places open past midnight on Parramatta Road that aren’t petrol stations, either – or eateries where you can bring your own wine and dredge hot chips through butter-chicken gravy.

Derrel’s might be Sydney’s most unique takeaway shop since Josh Niland started selling swordfish empanadas.

Attached to the Lady Hampshire pub in Camperdown, Derrel’s bills itself as a “late-night curry eatery” modelled on Indian canteens and England’s ancient “caffs” – the greasy spoons loved for their brown sauce and browner furniture. Menus are wrapped in the cover of an old British Women’s Weekly and a framed Manchester United football jersey is decorated with a Hindu wedding garland. It might all collapse under the weight of its own kitsch if the food weren’t so delicious.

A short, order-at-the-counter menu is influenced by chef Brendan King’s experience growing up Anglo-Indian in nearby Croydon Park. His dad was Irish, while his mum’s father, Derrel, was Indian-Jamaican-Scottish; his nan, Irene, was Indian-Portuguese. Derrel was the main family cook and it’s his tandoori recipe that King has adapted, marinating gnarly, sunset-red chicken wings that are then finished over charcoal. It’s beaut value at $17 for five pieces.

Derrel’s fiery tandoori paste also pulses in a fried-chicken sandwich special inspired by the Colonel’s Zinger Burger ($18). All Kashmiri ground chilli, cumin and crunch, it’s one of the tastiest ways you can cover yourself in mayonnaise this summer.

If it’s not available when you visit, consider carb-on-carb loading with a vada pav ($8) instead, the chip butty’s Mumbai-born cousin featuring a golden-battered potato fritter stuffed into the softest of white buns with a sprightly green chilli and coriander chutney.

An English-style chip butty ($10) is loaded with King’s most valuable player, his butter-chicken gravy. Derrel’s butter chicken ($26) – served with rice, flaky paratha flatbread, lime, pickled onion and chutney – is to your bog-standard Westfield food-court curry what surround sound is to a two-way radio. It’s rich and dark rather than creamy and sweet, and the chook is charcoal-grilled for a smoky edge before hitting the sauce.

King’s idea to spread the onion-forward gravy on a chip sandwich is an inspired move. The butter chicken’s gravy is available separately at $4 a ramekin, just in case you want to find out what else it can enhance.

On one visit, at about 11pm, I spotted a shift worker from Royal Prince Alfred dipping his doner kebab-like lamb kathi roll ($16) in the stuff. Much respect.

And much kudos to Derrel’s for being open until 2am every Friday and Saturday, too. If you work late in the city and live in the west, it’s the perfect pit stop if you’re after something more dynamic than Stanmore Macca’s.

It is possible to grab takeaway from a bain marie, but the curries are best enjoyed fresh from the kitchen with the coldest lager you can find. There isn’t a booze list, but it’s free to BYO wine or a six-pack, and Camperdown Cellars is across the street.

A tangy pork vindaloo ($26) is especially intense and needs more than a “Thums Up” Indian cola ($4) to calm it down.

This is super-filling, deep-flavoured food and one couple can leave with change from $70 by sharing two mains and the chaat plate ($14), which stars a smashed samosa covered in mint yoghurt, tamarind chutney, chana masala chickpea curry, and a crunchy bhuja mix of dried pulses and grains. There’s never a boring mouthful.

The butter chicken is rich and dark rather than creamy and sweet, the chook charcoal-grilled for a smoky edge.

A tandoori half-chicken plate ($31) is your go-to, bit-of-everything main, complete with a refreshing cucumber and tomato “kachumber” salad and a handful of bronzed chips for all-important gravy dipping.

Annoyingly, you can’t book, but across three visits it’s never been so packed we’ve had to wait for a table on Parramatta Road or (better idea) the pub next door.

It’s never been too quiet either, usually buzzing with punters in their late 20s who look as if they’re off to a King Gizzard gig at the Enmore Theatre, or hospitality workers stoked they now have more post-shift snack options than a quarter pounder and sad fries. Sydney could do with a Derrel’s on every major artery.

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine