Iranian restaurants are few and far between, and Pars is one of the better ones, with a nook-filled dining room heavy on the (non-working) hookahs and other ethnographic objects, a separate barroom, and walls of brick and stucco. The charcoal-grilled kebabs are quite smoky (pick joojeh, made with baby chicken), and neither does the kitchen stint on its beans-and-greens Persian stews, or in its apps like panir-o-sabzi, an herb-littered plank of feta served with warm bread just out of the oven.