Shazzam! The food at Kous Kous flashes magical powers the moment you start picking from your complimentary plate of marinated carrots and olives.

“In Morocco, that’s our bread and butter course,” says chef/owner Moumen Nouri as he delights diners with intimate conversations about life in his native Marrakech while keeping a third eye on the clay-pot stews and charring kabobs cooking back in the kitchen.

The new restaurant, situated several feet below sidewalk level, brings an exotic sparkle to Hillcrest with sensually spiced Moroccan dishes served in a comforting atmosphere adorned with carved wood accents, some rich fabrics and dozens of intricately designed lanterns that Nouri imported from home at great expense. An occasional waft of incense perfumes the air while an intriguing selection of world music played at low decibels sets the stage for what have been foolproof meals for everyone I know who’s eaten here so far.

Nouri, who provides a public relations boon to his business because of his cheerful personality and handsome packaging, quickly declares when making tableside visits that the restaurant’s namesake dish, couscous, “isn’t the instant stuff.” Instead, these tiny pebble-like grains of semolina that form the bedding for many of his recipes are steamed from scratch in a two-level pot placed a few inches above simmering meats and veggies to abduct their aromatic essence. The couscous is further enhanced by a preserved butter infused with thyme, oregano and salt that gets added at the end. Indeed, the final result in both taste and texture is superior compared to fast couscous from a box.

The menu begins with reasonably priced starters that lead you with great panache to the zesty and secret flavors of this faraway land. My companion, here on his second visit, urged me to order the Quesadilla De Marruecos, which aligns to a traditional dish served in Morocco involving flour dough stuffed with caramelized onions, braised bell pepper and a thin layer of fat from a sheep’s midsection. Nouri replaces the sheep fat with Jack cheese to avoid scaring off American palates. Yet still, the combined ingredients strike a sweet and buoyant flavor that veers far enough away from Mexican quesadillas to make it novel.

We also loved the Harira Soup, a lemony tomato-based broth propped up by celery, onions, parsley and pleasantly unfamiliar spices that tastes even brighter when you put the accompanying lemon wedge to use. Additionally, the Chef’s Sampler is three scoops of heaven featuring a coarse puree of tender roasted eggplant in olive oil that leaves a gentle burn on the tongue from garlic and cumin, plus a spreadable mound of caramelized carrots with garlic and ginger and a mash of roasted tomato and bell pepper. We made generous swipes through all three with warm pita bread served alongside.

Nouri also imports his tagines – those heavy clay dishes capped by matching cone-shaped lids to help control moisture and heat while food is cooked in them – from Morocco. They also act as dramatic serving ware for three different preparations of chicken, lamb shank or beef. We chose the latter, a hidden treasure of couscous soaking up the juices from delicate short rib meat interspersed with peas, olives, lemon preserves and a coveted artichoke crown. The meal left us head over heels, as did the Chicken Couscous made with saffron-braised breast meat yielding tiny bursts of sweetness from raisins and caramelized onions. Nouri also tosses in chucks of squash or pumpkin, depending on what’s in season.

More subtle tasting but satisfying nonetheless was the char-grilled Shrimp Kabob brushed lightly with tomato sharmoula, an herbal yet not too overwhelming Moroccan marinade that pairs especially well with seafood given its fresh lemon component. The sauce also accents the carrots that come on the relish tray when you arrive. And the fish of the day gets roasted in it.

Other entrées include lamb served in or out of the tagine that’s pointed up with ras el hanout, a kaleidoscopic blend of more than 20 spices including Spanish fly, nutmeg, cinnamon, rosebuds and ginger to name a few. There’s also a vegetarian couscous, cumin-infused grilled salmon and sides of garlic-wilted spinach and grilled asparagus.

The restaurant’s house-made sangria is pleasant and smooth, although I found that the higher acidity in standard red wine (Estancia Cabernet from Paso Robles) danced much better with the dashing flavors in everything we ate here. The wine list, says Nouri, is still a work in progress as he continues shopping for French and Moroccan labels to beef up his selection of mostly standard California names.

Desserts are kept deliciously simple – not quite as elaborate as the traditional large platters of fresh fruits served in Morocco after a meal, which Nouri admits “isn’t feasible” in U.S. restaurants. His lip-snacking crème brulee, perfected while attending culinary school for three years in Morocco, is served in a deep bowl and richer tasting because of it. We took an equal liking to a medley of mixed berries tossed sparingly in simple syrup, rosewater and Grand Marnier, which really seemed a more natural conclusion to the cuisine.

Perhaps the final icing on the cake is that you can park legally for free in the garage structure next door. Simply obtain a ticket inside the restaurant and run back outside to feed it into the metal pay box. Then hunker down for a culinary journey into a place where your taste buds have likely never traveled.