Sweary Scot Gordon Ramsay has a checkered legacy in the city at best. At worst it is a dismal double black mark of failure.

Clinging onto the semblance of an empire with increasing desperation, Ramsay has been all-but deposed by Essex geezer Jamie Oliver, who has been wholeheartedly adopted as a son of Brighton, despite his similar ubiquity almost everywhere else.

So where did it all go wrong for the caliph of cuisine? While it was the goggle box that made Oliver’s name, it was surely Ramsay’s overexposure that it did it for him.

Blundering into Brighton twice for Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares, all mock indignant, bulldog chewing wasp face, both Love’s seafood restaurant in St James’s Street and Momma Cherri's Soul Food Shack in Little East Street went under in 2009. Both blamed the recession, not the TV cameras, but it only contributed to the curse of Ramsay.

In a curious case of asymmetry as the culinary ecosystem reset, both sites are now Indian restaurants, though of vastly contrasting quality.

In St James’ Street there is Pavel, where troublingly oil-slicked slop is served up by angry waiters.

Chaula's, meanwhile, is a hospitable Guajarati restaurant, a pleasure to spend time in, rather than somewhere to sober up after a skinful of lager.

The walls are illustrated with village scenes and the menu is endearingly split between vegetarian and non-vegetarian, showing an alternative reality where meat is not the centre of the universe.

Owners Chaula and Janak Patel first started an Indian deli in Lewes in 2002, while a restaurant followed in Eastgate Street in 2007, and Brighton in 2012.

While there are a few tikka masalas and jalfrezis hidden at the back of the menu, Gujarati is a largely vegetarian region, and Chaula's starters offer hearty peasant fare, genuine street food, before it was commoditised by insurance brokers having mid life crisis.

So there is patra, leaves of edible colocasia plant, also known as elephant ear, which coated with spicy batter rolled up and steamed, an unusual, fibrous mouthful not far from vine leaves. The petis are comfortingly stodgy balls of mashed potato and spiced peas, and another sustenance-generous snack is the kachori, a dryish cake of flour and dough filled with moong dal and mild spice.

Gujurat is also famous for its thalis and The Gourmand knows these are the surest way to feast on as many different morsels as possible. And despite its vegetarian tendencies, many families do also eat meat, so the non-vegetarian thali is a glutton’s paradise platter.

The murg makhani, better known as butter chicken, has had plenty of time alone with a mellow marinade, and luxuriates in a sweet tomato and cashew nut gravy. It is richenned up with yoghurt and cream and best scooped up in buttery naan straight out from the tandoor. Methi chicken has off-kilter tea notes of fenugreek for a three dimensional dish. The Rajasthani has got a lot going for it – mutton-level maturity broken down through low-slow cooking, robustly perfumed with whole spice. It’s little different from the guiding principles of any lamb or mutton dish around the world, bar the regional spices.

An Indian feat is not complete without a tarka dahl and Chaula’s is garlicky and refreshingly bland, exactly what’s needed after rich meat. The vegetarian thali substitutes meat for saag aloo (spinach and potato) and a channa masala (chickpeas). The thali is completed with gulab jamun, balls of creamy milk, semolina, which is fried and soaked in saffron syrup – intensely sweet and utterly delicious.

Despite its failure to overturn Curry Capital Bradford earlier this year, Brighton and Hove has got pedigree when it comes to regional Indian cookery, with Chilli Pickle, Indian Summer and Curry Leaf Cafe are giving an impressive account of themselves. And while Chaula’s is probably a little too old school and homely to really exhilarate or push boundaries, it deserves generous recognition for standing well ahead most of its peers. Ramsay's curse is no more.