Himalaya, despite some minor gussying-up, continues to bask in the sort of achingly authentic excellence you’d expect from a hole-in-the-wall ethnic joint. The walls are a cheery adobe red, the tables are glossy, and we can now shrug hopefully about you bringing a first date (or, shudder, in-laws) about whose aesthetics you’re not yet certain. The once-condemning BYO policy has been relaxed, but bring stemware, and order one main per person to avoid a (small) corkage fee. Sensitive diners often choose to order take-out (which you can do up to a half-hour later than the posted dining hours) to avoid sometimes-brusque service.

This glorious Indo-Pak fare is an object lesson in spices: fennel seed, fenugreek, cardamom, and anise. Try aloo tikka, a complex, meaty sauce topping potato croquettes so lush they’d make Joël Robuchon blush. Coriander and chili-spiked chicken hara masala, which was already outstanding, has somehow even improved over the years. Green curries out-blaze even vindaloos from other restaurants, and the perfumed biryani and gently crisped, impossibly fluffy naan are heads and shoulders above the competition’s. Vegetarian dishes like malai kofta (a potato dumpling with a creamy, spicy sauce) make carnivores forget about meat. There isn’t a dud on the menu; do ask Chef Kaiser for his recommendations—his oil-stained shirt proves that he knows what’s best from his kitchen that day. Plus, you shouldn’t miss the chance to experience his Titan personality.