The wind is forcefully throwing rain at the window, and cars sit in a long line of traffic on the busy road outside. A few people walk by quickly giving a quick glance at the posted menu, huddled over for shelter from the cold wind.

No one comes in to go out to eat in this weather, you’ve got to be either crazy or a food critic on deadline.

I feel lucky – it’s warm and comfortable inside Sahib, a new Northern Indian restaurant opened on San Pablo Avenue in Richmond early last month. Sahib means sir or boss, and the brothers who own Sahib – Ravi and Pami Kalsi were known in their former construction business as “Kalsi Sahib,” or the Kalsi bosses. This is their first restaurant – a longtime dream come true.

Part of the charm is the cozy dining room, decorated in earthy colors, beaded seat cushions, a small dance floor and colorful paintings of Indian women in traditional dress.

More striking, however, is the genuine hospitality, kindness and humor of the small staff. I’m dining alone tonight, and any insecurity I might have entertained was immediately eased by the host’s huge smile and welcoming words. We chat about the terrible weather and traffic outside.

I’ve ordered an Indian beer ($3), which a waitress brings on a cloth-covered tray. She pours it into a tall chilled glass, running the amber-colored brew alongside the side of the glass. It’s a perfect pour – no foam.

She’s also brought a thin lentil wafer that’s crunchy and slightly salty, alongside the classic Indian sauces – a thick tamarind-tomato chutney and a cilantro-mint salsa laden with hot green chili.

The same man who seated me (I find out later he’s one of the owners, Ravi Kalsi), now takes my order I decide to start out with something I’ve never heard of – Paneer Pakora, or fried homemade cheese ($3.95).

Kalsi raises his eyebrows. “That’s really good,” he says with an almost boyish enthusiasm.

He’s right. Small squares of homemade cow’s milk cheese are powdered with chickpea batter and fried. The cheese is similar to ricotta – flurry, textural and mild – and the chickpea batter is crisp, not greasy, and dusted with chatt masala – an Indian mixture that adds a touch of warm spice. I add some of both chutneys – it’s so good I’m tempted to eat all eight pieces.

When the Sahib Indian Thall ($14.95) arrives, I’m glad I abstained – it’s a huge amount of food. Kalsi identifies everything on this combination platter: chicken curry, dal (lentils), raila (cucumber yogurt sauce), plain naan bread, rice pudding (dessert) and a sizzling platter of Tandoori chicken, chicken tikku, ground lamb kebabs tossed with limes, onions and peppers.

“And this,” Kalsi says, pointing to some rice, “is rice.”

When I look at him I realize he’s joking. We both laugh.

The chicken curry is subtle but so flavorful. Tender leg, thigh and breast meat sits in a sauce of curry, ginger, tomato and garam masela. It’s so good sandwiched between two pieces of hot, doughy naan and drizzled with raita.

The dal is also subtle lentils are boiled and served with their own juice – it’s slightly green and hints of ginger. Later, Kalsi tells me that Northern Indian cuisine isn’t traditionally spicy – spices are added for round but mild flavors.

The Tandoori chicken brings leg, wings and cubes of breast that have been marinated in cumin, yogurt, garlic and garam masala (mostly dried chili and cinnamon), then cooked in a hot, clay oven. There’s good flavor, but the meat’s a bit tough and hard to chew.

The ground lamb kebabs, however, are moist and contain lively ginger that dances in my mouth long after I’ve swallowed.

A woman has come by to pick up a take-out order. She tells Kalsi she thinks his food is the best in the area.

I’ve saved the rice pudding for last – I take a spoonful of snow white, creamy whole milk that’s been boiled with soft rice, raisins, sliced cashews and whole cardamom seed. It’s thick, cold and refreshing – a tasty, palate-cleansing finish to a wonderful meal.

Kalsi checks in on a couple behind me, and when they ask for the check, he responds, “Would you like that mild, medium or spicy?”

There’s quiet then laughter, as another one of his jokes is realized.

At another restaurant, this silliness might be annoying.

But at Sahib, Kalsi’s genuine good cheer is infectious, and when paired with such delicious and filling fare, is hard not to like.