The restaurant of that name has closed and been replaced – not that you'd know because there's no sign outside.

Walking or driving past you might catch a glimpse of bright red or green lights at the edge of the doorway and something akin to a mini waterfall behind a glass panel, so you'd probably assume it was a bar.

When it first opened there was a large banner draped outside, bearing the name Image and the menu, with each dish accompanied by a picture.
It looked tacky but at least it gave passers-by an indication of what was inside.

Now there's nothing, except the dreadful neon "open" sign relentlessly flashing in the window.

It's the kind of thing you see in late-night stores in the US, not what you expect from a restaurant which "prides itself in the textures, aroma and essential flavours from the heart of India", as its menu states.

Stepping inside felt like stepping into a cheesy nightclub or a shower showroom as the tall glass panels lit up with red and green lights are on either side of the door and the watery theme continues in the panelling below the bar.

The first section you enter is the bar area but there are plans to move it downstairs and dedicate the entire upstairs to dining.

Not long after our arrival we decided one of the few things they had right was the music noise level – loud enough to drown out drinkers in the adjoining section, without overpowering the entire venue.

The choice of music – Britpop and indie rock – seemed a little incongruous but we were willing to let this slide.

However as the night progressed this joined our list of grumbles as the volume was cranked up to compete with the growing numbers of revellers in the bar.

In contrast there were only three tables in use in the restaurant.
Still, we figured, the most important element of any eatery is the food itself.

The complimentary selection of popadoms and chutneys served as we took out seats was a good appetiser and the menu is comprehensive, with options refreshingly different from the standard fare served up in most Indian restaurants.

No sign of a jalfrezi, korma or balti or even naan breads here.
Instead there are less well-known South Indian dishes, many of which are thin rice crepes stuffed with various fillings such as potato and onion masala, plus an array of lamb, fish and chicken curries.

All the South Indian dishes are vegetarian although this wasn't made clear, we had to check with a waiter.

There's also the option of tapas, although when we asked about portion sizes and the appropriate number to order between two, the answer was clear as mud.

It seemed portions were the same size as a starter but we couldn't be sure, so we got three to share.

And my dining partner's eyes were bulging after his "chilly chicken" (£3.75). Clearly it should have been "chilli chicken".

Given the two peppers on the menu he knew it would be hot but for someone who regularly cooks and eats spicy food he was surprised by the intensity, which set his mouth on fire.

I went for petish (£2.95) – two coconut, coriander and mashed potato deep-fried balls, served with a yogurt dipping sauce.

They were delicious, subtly flavoured, with a lovely thick, creamy texture – soft but slightly chewy and sweet.

The sauce complemented it beautifully and ensured it wasn't too dry.
We shared the third tapas of pani poori (£2.75), described as one of India's favourite snacks.

It was bite-sized puffed Indian bread balls filled with potatoes and chickpeas, tamarind chutney and spicy water.

We both found them too crispy and dry, rather like eating cereal without milk, although the flavours were delicately tangy.

For my main I had the special-dosa, a rice crepe filled with masala, coriander and cashew nuts (£6.95).

It was rather overfacing – a huge folded crepe too big for its large plate.

Although it looked dry it was actually tasty and moist and the filling was spicy enough to get the lips tingling but nothing more.

My partner plumped for subji be bishal (£5.95) with two Gujarati chapatis (80p).

I found the diced potato, aubergine, tomato and banana curry warming and delicious, particularly the way the sweetness of the banana worked against the spices, but my dining partner found his bland and greasy.
It left an unpleasant oil slick on the plate, while the chapatis were dry and brittle.

We washed it all down with a beer each and the bill, with a £3 tip, came to just £31.60.

It was great value but that doesn't erase its problems.

In my opinion they start with the name, which gives no indication of the type of food on offer or the class of eatery.

And the logo looks more like branding for a print company or IT firm.
The menu appeared to have been printed on a home computer as the ink cartridge was running out halfway through.

Food was served on plain white plates and fashionable square dishes – an attempt to make it seem more classy and contemporary, which would have worked better if the rest of the venue matched up.

Paintings on the walls included the touching fingers by Michelangelo and two brightly-coloured pictures of forrest scenes – none of which seemed to tie in with modern Indian cuisine.

I enjoyed the food up to a point but there are other restaurants in Leeds which do what they aspire to do, only better.

It's ironic that a venue with no clear identity, and a bizarre muddle of influences, should be called Image. Image Crisis might be more fitting.