If there’s a reason for Bill’s persistent resistance to the idea that he actually likes Indian food, I haven’t discovered it. Nor has he. After all, here’s a man who loves spices that bite his tongue, as well as earthy ones like coriander and cumin. What’s not to like?

That question came up repeatedly during our meal at Indian Grill, between mouthfuls and murmurings of "yummy" from his side of the table. On my side, I was just luxuriating in the familiar yet exotic tastes of samosas, pakoras, and paratha.

The restaurant is a long, narrow space, elegantly decked out in dark blue on the upper half of the walls and long curtains, and accented in burgundy for the tablecloths and curtain ties. A few unobtrusive prints in gold frames, some of Indians in the beautiful silks of their homeland, break up the expanse of blue. Silk blouses are for sale in the outer lobby of the restaurant, and a quintet of female friends at the other end of the room took turns trying on various colors and styles.

Since Indian Grill is BYOB, each new set of customers quickly disappeared to the liquor store down the block. Bill, too, went off to grab himself a brew and left me in charge of decisions about appetizers. I chose a vegetarian platter that had one samosa, two pakoras, and one alu tikki atop a bed of cabbage and carrots ($5.95). I also ordered pudina paratha ($2.50), a multi-layered bread with chopped mint leaves.

The samosa is like a small turnover with potatoes, peas, and semi-hot spices inside. Pakoras are vegetable fritters — in this case, cauliflower dipped in a scrumptious batter that tasted of chickpea flour and turmeric. And the alu tikki was like a flat round potato cake laced with sweet spices. Each of these could be spiked with tamarind, mint, or onion chutneys, which ranged from sweet and slightly hot to very hot. But as appealing as each of these are was, I tried not to overwhelm the samosa and friends, and instead took to mixing the mint or tamarind chutney into the grated cabbage and sliced carrots. Tang and zing, all in one forkful.

The paratha was a bit disappointing, partly because the mint taste was lacking and the bread seemed not to have held its shape. But it may be that I’m just not familiar with this preparation.

Co-owners Raj and Anu Kumar hail from New Delhi, and regional variations in Indian food abound. The Kumars have dedicated themselves to preparing the freshest possible dishes, based around seasonal ingredients and doing things from scratch, such as preparing 15 gallons of yogurt each Tuesday morning. They also make their own paneer, that cottage-cheese-like curd that appears in many Indian dishes, and kulfi, an Indian-style ice cream that begins by very slowly simmering milk to get it thick and then adding crushed nuts and fruits.

The Kumars are justly proud of their tandoori dishes, meats marinated for 24 hours in ginger, garlic, and a dozen other spices before roasting in a clay oven, as well as their seafood offerings, such as fish masala (in a sauce of red onions, tomatoes, ginger, and garlic) and shrimp bhuna (in a sauce with plenty of fresh cilantro).

Bill wanted a sampling of their specialties and ordered the Indian Grill platter ($16.95). This combo had a thigh-leg piece of bright red tandoori chicken, two succulent pieces of chicken tikka, two pieces of seekh kabob, and one tandoori shrimp. The chicken tikka is boneless white meat, soaked in aromatic herbs and then broiled. The seekh kabob is minced lamb formed into sausage shapes and cooked on skewers (Bill found it a bit dry). And the lone shrimp was delicious, with quite different spices than the other items.

We were told that none of the tandoori dishes or vegetarian dishes come with rice, so we ordered a side of basmati which Bill liberally doused with chutney and the sauce from my daal karahi ($8.95), which was black lentils cooked with large chunks of red onions and green peppers in a tomato-based sauce. Very good and not too hot.

Despite our enthusiastic consumption of main dishes — and the very filling milkshake-like mango lassi ($2.95) I had polished off — we found that we could still manage dessert. We had our choice of kheer, that cardamom-infused rice pudding; gulab jamun, those thickened milk balls in honey syrup; or kulfi, the homemade ice cream, tucked inside an orange ($2.95).

We couldn’t resist the latter. The frozen orange-and-ice cream confection was sliced into eight segments, and we were encouraged to pick them up with our fingers to eat. The bits of fresh orange among the ice cream, slightly flavored with ground pistachios, were a delight, and the whole was a refreshing cool-down from the heat of the spicy dishes. Raj told me that they also fill small pineapples and even apples this same way. I can’t quite picture how you scoop out the apple, but if anyone could do it, I’m sure the Kumars could. Now just how soon am I going to get back for their two-course lunch specials?