The streets of India are being systematically emptied, one assumes, by New York’s recent boom in Indian street food. Bombay Talkie, a fashionable new Chelsea spot with a cinematic theme, is one of the principal culprits, offering snacking-friendly sit-down versions of vernacular favorites.

Architect Thomas Juul-Hansen, who has worked for Jean-Georges Vongerichten, designed the 67-seat, two-story restaurant with a modern, warm feel. A glowing cocktail-menu display and Indian videos illuminate the ground level, which offers a long communal table as well as individual ones. Lurid paintings of stills from the namesake Bombay film classics enliven the comfortable, simple white rooms. Some other design touches don’t work as well: attractive metal drinking cups effectively prevent the roving water-bearers from seeing when refills are needed, and the long bipartite plates can be hard to carry and easy to tip. The servers, though organized and eager, seem freshly trained, with varying levels of familiarity with the menu and its pronunciations.

The food itself ranges in quality. Milking the street-food concept, the restaurant divides its menu uninformatively into “Street Bites,” “From the Roadside,” and “Curbside,” which translate into shareable snacks, smallish entrees, and sides, respectively. Each street bite even has its own appealing backstory, straight from the marketing department: kathi rolls are “a school time favorite” and pau bhaji a “Bombay beachgoer’s delight.” The former ($7), simple flatbread wraps, are filled with a choice of chicken, lamb, or vegetables. The limp bread, served convincingly in fast-food-style foil, doesn’t offer much flavor, but the mild fillings, particularly the mint-tinged lamb, compensate nicely.

Pau bhaji ($7), unpretentious and underwhelming, consists of a piece of lightly toasted sandwich bread accompanied by a thick tomato-and-eggplant puree; it tastes fresh and inoffensive, but more like a snack hastily assembled from leftovers than a restaurant-grade appetizer. Bhel puri ($5), a unique classic, works much better: a chewy, crunchy melange of puffed rice and fried noodles tossed with tart green chutney, onion shreds, and yogurt. Its only offense here is occasional sogginess, but never lack of flavor. Dosas ($8 – “a drive-in must”) excel too: small, flawlessly crisp crepes enclose a choice of fillings, of which the best is chicken, juicy and deeply seasoned with mustard seed and coconut. But pieces of fish Koliwada-style ($8), coated in a bright-red batter and fried, suffer from the restaurant’s endemic lackluster spicing; the batter’s seasoning of chili and garlic is barely noticeable, and the fish isn’t quite good enough to sustain the dish on its own. A bed of salty matchstick potato fries makes a fine garnish but inessential eating.

Proceeding to the Roadside, we find half a dozen quasi-main courses, each comprising a small portion of meat or fish and a scoop of rice. Realistically, three of these dishes makes an appropriate meal for two people. Chicken Chettinad ($9), one of the best, is bone-in chicken pieces bathed in a creamy buff sauce delicately spiced with cardamom, ginger, and perhaps clove, a sauce that makes the most of the accompanying rice, and almost makes the chicken unnecessary. But the coconut-based sauce covering juicy lamb meatballs ($13) has just a hint of subtle spice; again, stronger flavor would be much more effective. The neon-red tandoori chicken’s flavor is excellent, but it has a somewhat crumbly texture that its thick powdery coating of masala paste only accentuates ($11). Novel and delicious, nargisi kofta ($12) consists of hard-cooked eggs, encased in chopped, spiced lamb meat and sliced, in a mild cashew sauce. The portion is unusually small; ordering a side or two is a wise move.

Side-dish offerings are affordable and basic. Vegetable dishes ($5) include fiery smoked eggplant, gingery stewed chick peas, and lentil dal; naan ($3) can be had with cilantro and chili flakes or with tiny, pungent onion seeds. An array of chutneys (all $2) can, and probably should, be ordered as well, to spruce up the more wan dishes: coconut chutney, tamarind chutney, cilantro chutney, and so forth, all satisfactory, though none with a truly fulfilling punch.

Fruity cocktails ($10) inspired by Indian flavors bear the sometimes unwieldy names of Bollywood films – “India’s Shakespeare,” “Truth Is Beauty.” “Seedling,” essentially a pomegranate margarita, has a particular deep-red, drinkable panache; but “Unrequit ed Love,” a medicinal concoction of lukewarm gin, lime juice, and saffron syrup, is difficult to get down. Better is “A New Phase of Life,” a bracing, faintly exotic blend of Champagne, brandy, and lychee syrup. A choice of a dozen wines, all $7 a glass or $28 a bottle, includes Echelon’s mild pinot noir and Carmenet’s somewhat undistinguished Dynamite sauvignon blanc. Beers from India and elsewhere provide a crisp backdrop for the complexly spiced food.

Bombay Talkie offers no traditional Indian dessert. Instead, there’s a selection of ice creams and a single alternative: a dense tile of dark-chocolate ganache scented with cardamom ($8), wonderfully smooth, chewy, and delicate. An array of teas and coffees, including spiced cappuccino and a cardamom tea from the owner’s family’s estate, provide a pleasing finish to the meal.

The stylish, comfortable ambience and flexible menu structure make the restaurant suitable for full-on meals, snacking, cocktails, tea, or any combination thereof. There is certainly sharper, more interesting Indian food than this in the city: What Bombay Talkie does best is the unified experience. With a bolder approach to seasoning and a little streamlining, though, it could become a destination for food as well.

Bombay Talkie, 189 Ninth Ave., 212-242-1900.