Move over, ramen, there’s a new kind of noodle shop in town, poised to win hearts if diners are willing to give it a try.

Like sister restaurant Chengdu Taste, Mian is quickly becoming known for its Sichuan-accented fare, this time focused on Chongqing (Chungking) wheat noodles, a departure from the Hong Kong-style egg noodles more commonly enjoyed in Chinese fare here.

But before getting into it, fans of Chengdu Taste need not be alarmed that their favorite restaurant has been replaced by Mian. The 2-year-old restaurant was simply so successful that it needed a bigger space; it will reopen upstairs at the 808 Center, tentatively this summer.

The dream has been to expand the restaurant’s menu, which was impossible with such a small kitchen. But that limited space continues to work well for turning out noodle soups. So with Chengdu Taste firmly established, the owners have introduced a quicker, casual concept downstairs with Mian.

THE NAME translates as “noodles” in Mandarin, which we have come to understand as “mein” in American English or “min” in the Cantonese of the early Chinese immigrants to Hawaii. They came mostly from the southern regions of Guangzhou and Guangdong, versus the more northerly Chongqing.

Flavors tend to be bold here, so this restaurant is not for those with timid palates. That said, whenever the fiery, tongue-numbing Sichuan pepper appears in Mian’s noodles, it is mostly in ground form and in lighter quantities that are less potent than at Chengdu Taste.

Minus its numbing effect, you can really taste the false pepper’s closer ties to the citrus family of plants. It’s so intriguing, adding depth to otherwise stock ingredients from the Chinese pantry, such as soy sauce, vinegar, garlic and sugar.

As a warm-up act, diners are welcomed with a mug of sweetened, chilled mung bean soup — a Chongqing staple — as well as a complimentary dish of Chengdu pickles (regular price $3.99), pickled cabbage that may be needed to cool the palate later on in the meal. Served cold, other appetizers of spicy black fungus ($4.99) and spicy radish ($4.99) present your first hint of the heat to come. For seasoned pepper eaters, it’s not bad at all.

THOSE WHO can’t take heat might want to start with a bowl of steamed egg layered with minced pork ($5.99). The creamy egg is comparable to Japanese chawanmushi, though at four times the size here.

Next, you’ll want to try the chaoshou (wontons) presented in a bowl of chili oil ($10.99) or pork dumplings ($10.99). I would give a nod to the dumplings because they’re served with the house’s delicious sweet chili-soy sauce. Though it has the texture of syrup or molasses, it’s not overly treacly, and if you prefer less sauce, just grab the pieces that aren’t fully coated.

As for the noodles, tamer bowls include the clear chicken and beef broth zajiang noodles ($10.99), a thick wheat noodle topped with minced pork, baby mustard cabbage and green onions; the huaxing (egg) noodles ($11.99) in a tomato broth topped with fried egg and tomato slices; and pig bone soup noodles ($10.99) in a milky white broth, the noodles topped with fried egg, baby mustard cabbage, tomatoes and black wood-ear fungus.

Those ingredients are just a starting point. A shortlist of add-ons includes stewed beef ($3.50), gizzards ($3.50), spareribs ($3.50), peas ($2) and soybeans ($2).

Of the other noodles, the most popular include sparerib noodles ($10.99) and special gizzard noodles ($11.99), the gizzards offering texture and heft.

Some diners have complained about the saltiness of the gizzard noodles, as well as the piquant (pig) intestine noodles ($10.99). The extra salt helps to mask the smell of the offal, but you can always request less salt. The cooks are open to such requests, as visitors from China always ask for extra-spicy broth.

Those with peanut allergies should also inquire about its presence in the dishes. It’s one of the components of Chongqing noodle dishes, including the street classic Sichuan cold noodles ($9.99). It’s my favorite dish here, on the plain side but refreshing. Most of the garlicky soy-based sauce is at the bottom of the bowl, so you can stir into the dish as much or as little as you want. A dash of ground Sichuan pepper on top adds those beautiful citrus notes.

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