Shah Abbas was a powerful Persian monarch during an era called Safavieh. His American digs are shabby; the restaurant that bears his name sits on the second floor of a dilapidated strip mall. But don't be discouraged by the decidedly less-than-royal location. This new addition to L.A.'s culinary landscape serves up food fit for a king.

Shah Abbas' vibrant decor is a strange mix of elegance and tackiness, straddling the line between color and kitsch. The restaurant is decorated with almost reckless abandon a lush color scheme of cobalt and burgundy and a clover-shaped fountain with blue tile, gray marble and a school of stone fish swallowing bouquets of artificial blooms. The ceiling is covered in colossal sapphire flowers with mirrored petals, the walls painted with artificial archways and columns and the floor blanketed by an enormous Persian rug. We arrived just in time to catch the second set of a Persian musical duo. Their haunting, sensual music swelled in our ears as we sat down to eat.

Shah Abbas is sensory overload, and the tastes are as vivid as the decor. We began with the nan-o-panir-o-sabzi, described by our waiter as a Persian salad. What arrived was a plate of fresh-cut herbs mint, cilantro and basil sprigs accompanied by green onions, radishes, walnuts and small chunks of the most delicious feta I've ever come across, Greece included. Aside from the feta, the salad wasn't a big hit, but it was accompanied by a basket of seeded flatbread which we quickly devoured. Soft and moist in the middle, somewhat crispy at the edges, the bread tasted a bit like a seasoned, flattened Indian naan. The tiny tub of chartreuse butter had a hint of garlic and a sweep of parsley. A spice-laden eggplant dish called kashk-o-bademjan was tasty, though somewhat bitter.

The menu abounds with chicken, lamb and beef specialties. But don't despair if meat is not your thing. There are plenty of vegetarian and seafood options. Portions are huge and pretty cheap at $12-$18. We tried the albaloo polo--lamb shank with sour cherries and saffron rice. The tang of the cherries perfectly offset the smokey saffron flavor, and the lamb was tender and juicy. Next came the real winner, sabzi polo, a Persian New Year's specialty served year round at Shah Abbas. The tender white fish was marinated, lightly breaded and pan-fried. It was so well seasoned, I had to fight off my boyfriend's fork for most of the meal. The dish came with practically a pint of herb rice. When asked to identify the herb, the hostess grew appropriately coy. "Oh, it's a little of this and a little of that."

A note of caution: Don't eat at Shah Abbas if you're in a hurry. The restaurant is only two months old, and the staff, though amiable, is extremely slow. This and other kinks still need to be worked out, but the food is excellent. Shah Abbas has the charm of a restaurant that's as yet undiscovered. Come quick, before the magic time is over. --Danielle Kwatinetz