Family dining rituals can be so ingrained that they can get in the way of discovering new venues.

I am not immune to routine and this kind of tunnel vision. It has been my family’s longtime tradition to hit Chinatown’s dim sum restaurants every Saturday. And so it happened that for two years I passed by Spicy Pavilion in the Chinatown Cultural Plaza dozens of times, never once veering from our dim sum routine.

When I did peek in, it never seemed very busy, not compared to the bustle of any of the plaza’s multiple dim sum restaurants.

Spicy Pavilion is in a league of its own, an outlier serving up the cuisine of northern and central China in a town dominated by southern Cantonese fare. The word “spicy” is enough to spook many local Chinese accustomed to mild Guangdong-rooted Cantonese fare, for whom this represents foreign territory. China is a big country after all.

Even though I’m a big fan of spicy food, and though chili peppers do add vibrant red or green to the dishes at Spicy Pavilion, the spice of choice here is the Sichuan pepper, an acquired taste for anyone who did not grow up with it.

For one thing, it’s not related to peppercorns or chili peppers at all, but is a peppercorn-size seed from the citrus family, with a fruity, lemony quality, plus a numbing factor that can be difficult to appreciate. I don’t love the Sichuan pepper, but I do love the food here. Go figure.

Even when I start feeling uncomfortably full, I cannot stop eating this food.

One quick way for newbs to start is with the manageably sized wontons. If you can handle one, just keep going. Beef in hot chili oil ($16.99) requires more of a commitment because it’s swimming in oil and peppers.

CHEF GARY TU maintains a nice restraint and balance of flavors throughout his menu to be true to Sichuan dishes, while preventing the pepper from overwhelming palates. The pepper can be a lot more tongue- numbing than presented here. Due to labor shortages, Tu does all the cooking himself, difficult for him but good news for diners who find consistency in quality, flavor and presentation every time.

Mouth-watering chicken ($15.99) strikes a nice balance between hot and cool factors. If you’re accustomed to cold ginger chicken, just imagine the same plain chicken served with a contrasting hot and spicy sauce. Yum.

Starches that can help offset heat include Jiangxi rice noodles ($12.99), fried long rice ($12.99), garlic fried rice ($12.99), or a big bowl of rice to feed a tableful of guests ($4.99).

Greens such as stir-fried ong choy ($11.99), green beans ($12.99) or an order of Arden, or sword leaf, lettuce will also keep your tongue from burning up. I love how this particular lettuce keeps its crunchy texture even after being stir-fried with garlic.

One sign that every dish on the menu is universally delicious is that when checking out other tables, you’ll see few duplicate dishes. At most restaurants, you’ll see a handful of favorite dishes landing on every table. At Spicy Pavilion, everyone has a different favorite or two because there are so many dishes to love.

I have at least five and counting. First, there’s the crispy fried shrimp in chili peppers ($18.99) — a whole platterful of small, airy fried shrimp that you can devour head, tail and all, popping them into your mouth like candy. Then there’s the elegantly presented Hakka classic pot roast pork ($16.99) with the deep, herbaceous and earthy flavor of muy choy, or blackened preserved mustard greens. It’s quite different from local kau yuk that is sweet in flavor.

FOR A change of pace try Hunan-style stir-fried lamb perfumed with cumin, a spice that arrived in northern China via the storied Silk Road connecting the country to the Middle East and Eastern Europe.

I also enjoyed chicken two ways, through an order of juicy fried garlic chicken wings ($10.99) dusted with Sichuan pepper and cornstarch, and the house special of airy and crisp twice-cooked, boneless diced chicken ($14.99) tossed with dried red peppers and sliced jalapenos.

Stone-pot dishes round out the menu. You can work your way toward the ultimate delicacy of Sichuan mao xue wang, literally “bubbling blood” ($16.99), a soup of pork blood, tripe, squid, Spam, bean sprouts and cucumbers.

For me, maybe next time.

Nadine Kam’s restaurant reviews are conducted anonymously and paid for by the Star-Advertiser. Reach her at nkam@staradvertiser.com.