On the menu, the dish is listed simply as "Thai Cafe's basket" -- no Thai name, just a description that promises "a unique combination of shrimp, chicken and corn with Thai spices in six tiny crispy pastry baskets." I wasn't familiar with the dish, and suspected it might be an attempt to cater to Western palates. If it was, it was indeed unique because everything else on the menu is recognizably authentic. At any rate, I had to try it.

Am I ever glad I did. The reward for my curiosity was a half dozen dainty pastry shells, each barely an inch across. Nestled in each fluted rim was a spoonful of nirvana, in the form of a gently spiced hash of shrimp, chicken and kernels of summer-sweet corn. Turns out these little baskets of bliss are authentic, too, as the host explained afterward. The pastry shells are made with rice flour, and they're shaped with molds commonly available in Asian markets.

Other dishes at Thai Cafe, which opened in January in the old La Villita space on University Drive, will be more familiar to fans of Thai cuisine. But they're no less rewarding. Brother and sister owners Oddy Tacha and Kanchana Techarukphong boast a combined 45 years in Thai restaurant kitchens, and their experience shows in presentations which, time after time, impress with the quality of their execution and delight with their attention to detail.

Order the shrimp massaman, and you won't know whether to be more impressed by the fact that the jumbo shrimp are perfectly cooked and the coconut curry exquisitely fragrant, or that the dish includes ripe, fresh-cut avocado slices and cashews, extra touches you rarely find elsewhere.

Som tam, a spicy green papaya salad, is similarly distinguished. Not only is the flavor exceptionally crisp and bright in Thai Cafe's rendition, but the salad is also accompanied by its traditional companions, sticky rice and addictive, chewy-sweet Thai beef jerky. Try finding that on a single plate in another area Thai restaurant.

Squid salad sparkles, both for the eye and on the palate, where irreproachably tender squid is joined by a bright confetti of cilantro, lemongrass and slivers of onion in a deftly balanced lime juice-fish sauce dressing. Nam tok beef, another salad which showers petal-thin slices of char-grilled rib-eye over a vibrant pastiche of basil leaves, Thai chiles, red onions and cabbage, is likewise impressive. So is nam sod, which serves up a savory mound of minced pork, chiles, ginger and peanuts, flanked by a wedge of cabbage. Use the cabbage leaves to pick up bites of the nam sod, pop them into your mouth, and savor the intricate dance of flavors and textures on your tongue.

Techarukphong and Tacha do a similarly praiseworthy job with the standard Thai repertoire of curries, stir-fries and noodle dishes, but they really strut their stuff with the dishes listed under the heading of Special Entrees, and with nightly specials. If the waiter's recitation includes fried soft shell crabs with a gingery Luisaun sauce, by all means get them. Another special, Thai-style crispy duck, has proven so popular that it has been promoted to permanent menu status.

The Special Entrees list includes a diverse assortment of specialties ranging from crispy catfish to Thai barbecued chicken to char-grilled salmon in a red shu-she curry sauce. Kaprow lamb features a quartet of succulent chops in a classic basil sauce that's richly flavorful if milder than most renditions.

If the kitchen has a weakness, in fact, it's that it caters to Western tastes in terms of spiciness. Menu listings are marked according to their heat level, from zero chiles ("not spicy") to three chiles ("Thai hot"). You can count on the dishes to be one to two chiles milder than their rating.

Even desserts are commendable here. There are only two options -- a moist, lavishly iced coconut cake and a spot-on classic vanilla bean creme brulee -- but they're both well worth the calories. Not at all what you've probably come to expect in Asian restaurants, where desserts are usually an afterthought. But at Thai Cafe, you'd expect nothing less.