The options for lovers of Indian-Chinese cooking are expanding. Chinese Mirch, which opened in 2004, was the first New York restaurant to curry its wontons. Last month, the owners of Chinese Mirch opened I-Chin, an upscale elaboration on the theme. Chef and owner Vik Lulla has assembled a refined menu, without luxury ingredients (barring an oyster or two among the starters) but with more complex, nuanced preparations than at the original restaurant. Mirch’s duller Chinese fare — kung pao chicken, hoisin prawns — is nowhere in sight, replaced by dishes with the two- and three-line menu descriptions that are the hallmark of a certain kind of fine dining. But going upscale involves more than buying buff-colored cloth napkins and hiring servers to assiduously refold them at every opportunity, and I-Chin seems to struggle sometimes with the fine points.

The chef knows that deep-fried foods are the undisputed best way to start any meal, and offers a substantial variety. Spicy “chicken lollipops” ($8) — wing ends with bone handles and crisp battered coatings, probably the most famous Indian-Chinese dish — put in a delicious command performance. “Crackling spinach wafers” ($8), now that their main ingredient is legal again, are tasty but filling, their leaves bound in sweet tempura-like batter, and served with a hot mustard dip. Some combinations are unexpected but unobjectionable, like mashed potatoes pressed around thick sugar-cane skewers and fried, with a hoisin dip ($8). Chunks of crispy okra ($8) retain just enough of the vegetable’s distinctive slipperiness inside a crunchy shell; they’re better off without their sweet citrus dipping sauce.

A salad of star fruit and sliced, spiced beef ($12) offers an intricate wash of flavors. The beef is sweet and tender, the fruit tart and crisp, and Indian spices perk up the dressing: Amchur, made from dried mangoes, lends a sour note, and carom gives a bright, herbal warmth.

Frying serves the main courses well, too. One of the best is strips of spicy lamb ($22), wok-cooked with a crunchy surface and vibrant flavor. It’s like General Tso’s lamb would be, if that military man had a lamb. Tamarind-glazed lamb chops ($28), eight little ones, are succulent and excellent as well. (The restaurant serves no beef and no pork.)

As at Chinese Mirch, the failings of the cooking come when it’s too reminiscent of corner Chinese fare, and here they seem to come too frequently. When there’s a sauce involved, it tends to be of the over-bland, cornstarchy variety. So I-Chin’s excellent, fresh-tasting milky paneer cubes ($16) are hosted disappointingly in an undistinguished orange glop, as are delicate rounds of fenugreek-spiced baby eggplant. The best one can say of the appealing-sounding “green chili, spinach, and Chinese parsley pesto” that envelops succulent tiger shrimp ($20) is that it is very green.A few dishes are uninteresting versions of ones you can get elsewhere. Sautéed bok choy ($6) seasoned with fermented black beans is watery and low in flavor, and although a variety of types of fried rice is offered, none of them offer much, or vary much. A sauté of lamb ($20) with whiskey–black bean sauce sounds intriguing, but the whiskey is undetectable and the dish is tasty but ordinary.

Desserts meld East and West, as in a pair of excellent dumplings ($8) with crisp shells stuffed with date paste; a barely sweet spiced tea ice cream comes on the side.

The exotic cocktail offerings include a superb dark and thick bloody mary ($10) with both chili heat and the tingle of Sichuan pepper, along with more delicate constructions incorporating such flavors as lychee and fennel. Wines, in categories like “Power and Grace” and “Round and Intriguing,” run along assertive, often biodynamic lines, well matched to the menu’s spice and lamb. A wealth of French selections includes Eric Texier’s robust cotes du Rhone ($7/$30); Bangalore’s Grover Vineyards is represented too, with a straightforwardly fruity shiraz blend ($7/$24). No bottle tops $70.

Some of the service’s awkwardness can be attributed to the anxiety of a sparsely attended dinner hour, coupled with what seems like inexperience. Standing out front to solicit passers-by may wash on Sixth Street, but a lot of 50th Street’s traffic will be turned off rather than drawn in. The cuisine has excellent potential, as the original casual incarnation demonstrates, but it fits imperfectly in its new home. If just a little more of the energy that goes into the food were poured into making that transition work, I-Chin would be a success.

I-Chin (247 E. 50th St., between Second and Third avenues, 212-223-4959).