NOBODY eats out on a Monday night, do they? Many eating places don't even bother to open their doors, so reluctant are we to stir ourselves after the weekend.

Clearly the folk who were packed into the Raj Bari in Yarm this Monday had no hang-ups about the working week. They were tucking in and having fun like it was Friday or Saturday. Had we walked in half an hour later we wouldn't have got a table.

Why were we there? A little matter of a big hole in this week's paper and nothing to fill it. Why an Indian? An equally challenging bout of influenza which had laid low the fairer half of this reviewing team and left her with severely anaesthetised taste buds. A good strong curry might just wake them up.

The Raj Bari, not far from Yarm's town hall, used to be The Balti House until an extensive refurbishment last year gave it a new name and contemporary look far removed from the traditional tandoori. Now, brightly coloured red/yellow/purple walls, wood-effect flooring and designer chairs have given it a touch of Yarm restaurant chic. It works well although the open plan layout means it's a good idea to pick a table away from the front door, especially on a night like Monday when the remnants of the last weekend's gales were still sweeping down the High Street.

First impressions at the table were good. Crisp white table linen and sparkling cutlery tends not to be the norm in Indian restaurants. The popadums were similarly crisp, if a little thin, and the pickle tray featured the standard lime pickle and yoghurty sauces plus a few sweet and spicy mixes which got the taste buds (both mine and Sylvia's) going nicely.

We shared a starter - Alloo Chat (£2.80) - small potatoes cooked with onion, tomato and spinach and wrapped in deep-fried puri bread. That probably sounds heavy and cholesterol-laden but, accompanied by some mixed salad, it turned to be very light and aromatic.

We had both chosen baltis for our main courses. Having eaten here before in its days as The Balti House, we knew they would be good - not something that is generally the case in most Indian restaurants. Balti cooking has become fashionable which means all sorts of slop is served up in two-handled woks and called a balti.

Baltis at the Raj Bari are the nearest I've come across to the authentic baltis served in Birmingham's Ladypool Road, the home of the British balti. The secret's in the sauce which is not thick and glutinous but of the consistency which lightly coats a chunk of nan bread. Indeed in Birmingham baltis are rarely served with rice. Typically a group of diners will be given a nan the size of the table to tear pieces off and use as a rudimentary but effective spoon.

Our baltis - a plain chicken balti (£6.95) and a chicken tikka balti (£7.95) - were well up to Ladypool Road standard featuring the tenderest chicken and light but spicy sauces verging on hot.

I finished with a refreshing mango kulfi (£1.60) and Sylvia had a latte coffee(£1.60).

Service was excellent and we noted the great patience shown to one American diner who clearly had never stepped foot in an Indian restaurant before. Her numerous questions about the lengthy menu were dealt with infinite care. It worked because she seemed to enjoy her meal.

The bill was a shade under £30, which included two drinks, and the bill came with a large bowl full of mints. Perhaps that's a little pricey for an Indian meal but this was a very different experience to most High Street Indian establishments. Significantly, despite having a starter, popadums and nans, the meal didn't leave us with that eaten-too-much feeling.

And perhaps most gratifyingly, Sylvia's taste buds had been kicked backed into life.