When fancy restaurants were just gleams in Amar Singh’s eyes, what I liked best about their downscale precursor Curry in a Hurry (long defunct), was the proprietor’s spirit of innovation. Singh thought outside the curry can. Heart right nouvelle Bombay street snack food? Papri chat and bel puri with canola oil, instead of ghee, samosas baked instead of fried?

Now, more than a decade after those beginnings in a Thayer Street cubbyhole, the restaurateur, his wife Rosy, and partner Ajay Vinoben run India on Hope Street in Providence, as well as namesakes in Warren and East Greenwich. The fourth one, on Dorrance Street in Providence, was transformed this spring into an equally upscale place named Beyondindia. As a recent visit convinced us, the original attitude — that a restaurant’s concept, as well as ingredients, have to be kept fresh — is alive and thriving.

Beyondindia’s sign declares it to be a "Eurasian Bistro." Ever since Marco Polo brought pasta and gelato from China, there hasn’t been much new about fusion cuisine, regardless of the ooh-ooh hype of the ’80s. At this restaurant, you won’t find zucchini blossoms stir-fried with tamari and bragged about as though Shangri-La has been discovered. Mr. Polo, though, would undoubtedly be pleased.

The Silk Road of trans-Asian 2nd-century BC commerce is on the menu as more than a map crossed by dotted lines. Dishes are offered from Greece and Mongolia, Egypt and China, Sicily and Indochina, as well as India. The wine list is carefully chosen, with several recommendations described on the menu. Chef Terrence Maul is the perfect person to head this kitchen; trained at the Culinary Institute of America, he was sous chef at the innovative fusion restaurant Blue Ginger, in Wellesley, Massachusetts.

The décor at Beyondindia is mainly Indian, for a roots reminder as well as visual consistency. (No wok on the wall like a shield, under crossed French knife and Chinese cleaver.) Polished copper atop dividers and edging the bar is a warm reminder of the dangling pots of a fancy Western kitchen. But more typical are the designs on Indian cotton upholstery, or the late-19th-century hand-tinted magazine illustrations of the exotic East, bazaars and such, arrayed on the walls. Brown paper covers the tables, bistro-fashion.

The "bread basket" arriving at our table announced that the offerings here would be different. Two kinds of airy Indian flatbread, papadam, and strips of crisp naan, some herbed, spilled out of a paper cone in a spiral of wrought iron, accompanied by hummus.

I started out with a bowl of Peking dumpling soup ($4.50), which contained three large dumplings filled with wild mushrooms and savoy cabbage. They were loosely wrapped, deliberately allowing in a vegetable broth that was too one-dimensional with vinegar for my taste, but Johnnie liked it. Another starter was more than successful. Once the shells were removed from the serving of fat mussels ($6), I had what amounted to a bowl of quite delicious shellfish soup, the plentiful broth rich with coconut milk and a fragrant wealth of cilantro and lemon grass, and not overpowered by its red Thai curry. We also tried out a small order of Asian double noodle salad ($5 and $10), which, tossed with tahini instead of sesame oil, was quite tasty.

Main dishes range from Szechuan-spiced Mongolian grilled hanger steak ($17) — our helpful waitress Priya’s favorite — to monkfish ($15.50), pan-roasted Sicilian style. Johnnie chose a simple Eurasian vegetarian plate ($10). Its guests of honor were roasted red pepper-polenta cake triangles, surrounded by roasted yellow tomatoes, sliced asparagus, and eggplant "caviar" with green olive tapenade, all topped with pea leaves sporting an occasional tendril. Filling that out was one of four sides available ($3.50) — grape leaves ingeniously filled with smoked salmon as well as rice, covered with a creamy lemon sauce.

My Tunisian lamb steak ($18) had plenty of mashed eggplant as well, atop thin-sliced roasted potatoes, under slices of lamb enhanced nicely by the dark gravy made from its drippings. It was all just right. For color, saffron-yellow slices of fennel were on top, though the preparation lost the fresh anise taste of the vegetable.

Desserts here are few, but they are all house-made and tempting. You know what you’ll get: photos are in a little book across from elaborate descriptions. The traditional Indian gulab jamun, honey-soaked fried dough balls, is called "a pyramid of Bombay-style tiny doughnuts," drizzled with ginger syrup and served with ginger ice cream. We chose the "baklava-inspired cheesecake" ($6.50), which uses flaky sheets of phyllo dough and lightens the cream cheese somewhat with skim milk manouri cheese. It was delicious, and still so rich that we left some.

It was a great idea to convert one of the India restaurants, expanding to offerings past the Indian subcontinent. If Beyondindia had started out in Venice, Marco would surely have made some detours on his way to Cathay.

Bill Rodriguez can be reached at billrod@reporters.net.