Once a sure-fire way to show off exotic tastes and spirited sophistication, the humble curry house is now very much part of our culinary heritage.

Whether an urban myth or not, chicken Tandoori's frequently hailed status as Britain’s real national dish, show's just how far the people, food and culture has come.

For Millennials introduced to Eastern spice at a younger age, Indian food – or at least the Anglicised type – may well feel as ordinary as roast chicken.

So for The Beach-watching backpacking generation desperate to do things differently from their parents, Thai food has all the requisite exotic allure.

If Indian food might be generalised by its earthy, bass-notes of roasted aromatic spices and slow simmering, then Thai food has an higher-end polyphonic range.

Think vibrant lemongrass, fish sauce, coconut milk and coriander combined in a vivid kaleidoscope which woos the palette with caresses and lashes.

The well-travelled populace of Brighton and Hove love Thai food so much that scores of pubs have been able to sustain in-house Thai kitchens.

This trend might be falling out fashion with the onslaught of American bar snacks, but it remains a wonderful bit of blue-sky-thinking turned reality.

That still leaves quite a few more traditional Thai restaurants, many with the same awkward hush of old-school curry houses, ornate approximations of fine dining, with only okay food.

A third way, which feels much closer to the way ordinary Thai people eat, is the informal café, with UniThai an open secret foodie favourite.

Firstly an Oriental supermarket stacked with intriguing ingredients you won’t see in Tesco, the small kitchen with a couple of tables at the back are not immediately obvious.

But anyone who’s eaten in Bangkok back-street cafes will feel at home here, where the wall of dry spices in the shelves mingle with the hot-wokked fresh aromatics from the back.

There are a couple of familiar dishes – pad Thai and red curry – alongside a brief menu of lesser-spotted mostly noodle dishes.

Take the rad na, which is rarely seen in UK restaurants, and is a proper bit of street starch, a thick noodle dish in a cornflour enforced broth.

Beautifully bland and comforting in the same way as many of our Anglo-Irish potato-bread stodge, it’s there to be jazzed up by table condiments on the table, namely a good splash of vinegar and dried chilli, totally necessary but all too absent in UK Thai restaurants.

The result is a substantial, moreish bowlful unlike the flashier numbers from the Thai repertoire.

Better known is a stir fry noddle dish pad kee mao, translating as drunkard’s noodles.

The flashed vegetables were full of freshness with a strong wack of galangal and aromatic holy basil. Another noodle dish pad see ew needs to be fried quite dry – and can easily slop into disaster if too soggy – but this was done right, salty and authentic.

Alongside its green relative the gaeng kiaw wan, the panang red curry is fast-becoming as well-loved as classic Indian curries. UniThai’s duck panang was superb and everything you could hope for. The sauce, just the right level of thickness, had the whole symphony of lemongrass, fish sauce, red chillies, coconut milk and coriander. An aromatic slow-burner, it soaked sumptuously into the cloud-light jasmine rice.

And for a bit of greenery, the morning glory was a delight. A water spinach, the vegetable is more stalky, and when stir-fried and soaked in pungent nam pla fish sauce could be devoured on their own.

Like being in a corner of Bangkok for 45 minutes – right down to the blunt matriarch chiding the mess we leave - UniThai is a must-visit for lovers of Indochinese cuisine.

Service is not particularly quick, but then when multiple dishes are being cooked from fresh from a tiny kitchen, you’d be worried if it came out too fast. Plus it’s in keeping with the Thai tradition to bring it dishes out when they're cooked.

There might be fancier more expensive Thai restaurants in Sussex, but its hard to imagine there are any that do street noodles this well.