Restaurant review: Guchhi Indian Seafood and Bar, Edinburgh

My sister loves horses. In fact, a while ago, Louisa paid for a part-share of a stallion that she found advertised on Gumtree. The only drawback to this arrangement, apart from the fact that he was 368 in horse years, had a dodgy back and looked prematurely taxidermied, was that he was called Versace.

I'm sure this was an exercise in irony on the part of his owner.

I know the spelling of the new Indian seafood restaurant in Leith, Guchhi, differs from that of the similarly named fashion house. However, semantics made me picture python-skin furnishings and waiters in snaffle-detail loafers, even though our equine friend Versace had taught me that I should expect the exact opposite.

In fact, this place, which is owned by Vishant Das, former head chef at Loch Fyne Restaurant, and his partner Sachin Dhanola, resembles a spa. There are eau-de-nil coloured walls, wooden floors, a faint smell of incense and "chillaxation" music on the stereo.

It made me feel as if I needed a lie down. However, instead, my sister, Louisa, boyfriend, Rolf, and I perused the numerous menus. There's a double-sided lunchtime tapas one (the waiter said we could order from this, despite it being 7pm) and a leaflet-sized list of seafood and non-seafoody a-la-carte mains.

"I don't really know what we ordered in the end," said junior, bamboozled, after the waiter had taken our choices, on his third approach to the table. "We'll find out when they get here," added Rolf, reassuringly.

My option turned out to be the fantastic Guchhi gravadlax (5.95). It consisted of thickly sliced smoked salmon, sprinkled with coriander, which was accompanied by a variation on piccalilli: a bright-yellow curried cauliflower and horseradish pure.

Despite the fact that a little went a long way, I could eat this stuff by the gallon (although, the burning sensation in my sinuses would probably never leave me).

Rolf's choice of tandoori-smoked mackerel (6.95) was equally good, as the compulsive salty-meets-smoky taste of the oily fish was offset by a sweet dusting of "khasarani ajwani" massala.

A triple whammy of tasty offerings was completed by my wee sister's kurkuri macchi (4.95), or coley fillet marinated in spices. This consisted of juicy chunks of white fish in a light turmeric-flavoured batter, accompanied by a ramekin of milky raita.

It felt like the chef had already given us a showcase of his fishy credentials, so we were excited about our mains.

Unfortunately, Rolf went pale when his makhan mirchi crab (14.95) arrived. I don't think he was expecting it to come whole, with its black-tipped pincers curling ceilingward.

It was, however, exciting for me to watch my boyfriend grappling manfully with his tea, in a Ray Mears-style. I tested a bite and loved the intense roasted pepper and lemon sauce enveloping Claws. But it was a bit tricky, having to use the crackers and fingers to disassemble dinner, when there was so much dark red jus and only a single fingerbowl.

However, when the head chef, Das, came over to check on our progress, he explained that they were trying to gauge from customer feedback whether to serve the crab ready prepared or not in the future.

He got his answer when he caught sight of Rolf's pained expression.

My main of tandoori king prawns (14.95) was easier to handle. Alongside tamarind chutney and fried onions, this featured four fat crevettes, which were still juicy after a spell in the clay oven. This was fine, but a price that works out at 3.74 per prawn seems excessive.

Louisa's bream Nicole (12.95) was a rather elegant-looking dish, with a delicate fillet of gilthead bream, perched atop a buttery cumin-scented sauce that contained a pair of sweet seared scallops.

We mopped up the jus with our two smallish portions of good pilau rice (2.50).

After this fishy feast, we still had room to share some phirni (4), a canary- yellow cold rice pudding which tasted of cardamom and was packed with crushed pistachios.

Although some of the dishes here are slightly pricey, the standard is almost on the nose. We're not talking Red Rum, but Guchhi is certainly not limping home like motheaten old Versace.

9-10 Commercial Street, Edinburgh (0131-555 5604, www.guchhi.com)

How much?

Dinner for three, excluding drinks, 67.20

• This article was first published in The Scotsman on November 6, 2010