& Bangladeshi Cuisine', proclaims the menu. We found the food very good and, while not perhaps exotic.

If you don't count the white and blue neon signs out front, nothing much about bricks and mortar has changed. The rather classy refit done by the previous tenant suited its new owners just fine - so we have buttermilk yellow, woody room, brightly lit, with about 25 tables arrayed around a tan-wood central bar and over what must have been a expensive terra cotta tile floor. Whereas in its previous life, the room was mellowed with artful displays of wine bottles, so far Megnha has stuck to the bare decor.

The lack of embellishment contrasts with most South Asian establishments, where somewhere a gaudy depiction of mythical gods and beasts or Islamic intricacies always recall the land of is owners. Maybe the new lot have yet to get around to making it home. But this somehow seems in character with the new restaurant's style, which hums with determination to flourish despite all the odds of its awkward location among narrow streets crammed with parked cars.

Megnha runs a tight ship. Smart-looking waiters in plum coloured shirts, many with quasi military-style haircuts, circulate briskly, laying the white-cloth covered tables, greeting customers, taking orders, setting out hot plates and bringing dishes out on beechwood carts. Meghna can be quite off peak but on the Friday night we visited the placed buzzed. A gaggle of co-workers talking hospital talk huddle round a big round table. A dad treating his two giggly girls to a night out occupy one by the window opposite.

Attentive, even zealous, the all-male waiting team come around a number of times to ask about the food, whether we need anything and to wisk away dishes soon after we finished a course. The boss circulates with a kindly expression and hands behind his back in close observation all the while.

But in the end its all about the food, and, while the order was taken swiftly, the food took a bit of time to arrive, which irks while one's stomach grumbles with hunger. In restrospect, this a good sign. A chef behind the big brown door had obviously taken the time to cook our food with skill and care. The repast delivered to the table stood far above the crowd: Egg biryani, with delicate rice and rich eggy flavours; Dansak king prawns with a scrumptious ground lentil sauce and, for our less adventurous dining companion, a lip-smacking chicken omelette with chips. A vegetable curry was more ordinary, and a bit oily.

Megnha featuring all the usual favourites - from Tandoori to curries and vindaloo. On our visit it delivered excellent value and fresh flavours, tastier than what one gets from the run-of-the mill purveyor of this cuisine. And if you don't believe that something special might be happening in this corner of Cambridge, the menu leaves no doubt of the confidence Megha has in its product. It boldly invites you to the kitchen to 'see our experienced chef prepare your food.'