Khun Sai graduated into the early 1990s recession, so never had the opportunity to put his degree in electrical engineering to work. That was our gain after he eventually found his way into the food industry.

After moving to Hawaii from San Francisco, he got his start running a sushi operation within Foodland in Pupukea.

Two years later, in 2013, he took a chance on opening a restaurant that would introduce his native Burmese cuisine to Honolulu. It was a gamble on a cuisine few had experienced because of Myanmar’s then isolated, rogue status, but Dagon slowly succeeded on the strength of comforting curries and such unique dishes as a green tea salad and mohinga, a fish-noodle soup considered the country’s national dish.

Cooking came naturally to Sai, who grew up in Burma as the eldest of three boys. That meant he was required to help his mom in the kitchen all the time. His wife also cooked and the couple was able to patiently educate diners new to Burmese cuisine, one bearing the broad influences of neighboring India, Laos, Thailand and China.

TO THIS day, newbies require an initiation period full of questions and answers. And Sai is just as patient answering the same questions at his second restaurant, Rangoon Burmese Kitchen. It’s a more luxurious outpost in downtown Honolulu (where Epic used to be at Nuuanu and Pauahi streets), with an ambitious menu that could not be accommodated in Dagon’s small kitchen.

The centerpiece of Rangoon’s decor is a Kachin gong from Sai’s home state. A mallet is on hand for those compelled to announce their arrival. Overhead is a colorful display of handmade Burmese umbrellas that is especially pretty when lighted at night.

What I really wanted to start with was the green tea salad ($14), one of my favorite dishes at Dagon, but I resisted on my first two visits in order to try some new things. I broke down on a third visit because the salad is too good to ignore.

There are two versions, identical save for use of lettuce in the Westernized, beginner version, versus denser, heavier cabbage in the authentic recipe. The ingredients are also separated in the first version, meant for mixing at the table so leery types can see exactly what they’re eating. These include fermented tea leaf tips, garlic chips and raw sliced garlic, peanuts, yellow and green split peas, red chilies, sunflower seeds, tomatoes, jalapeno and lime. The nuts and roasted peas deliver a pleasant crunch throughout.

Because of the caffeine content of the green tea, the salad is considered the Red Bull of Burma, and is consumed by college students to stay awake while studying. I tried to warn a friend against eating too much at night but she would have none of my advice, then ended up being unable to sleep.

The other must-try is mohinga ($15), the noodle soup with a fish broth thickened with roasted rice powder, which gives it an irresistible toasty quality. It’s finished with cilantro and slices of hard-boiled egg. In Burma, mohinga is portioned for one, like ramen, but its richness makes it a share dish for most locals. The thick rice noodles make it filling.

OUTSIDE WORK duties I crave simple foods, so of all the dishes on the menu, I was drawn to Rangoon’s mashed potato salad ($8).

“It’s mashed potatoes,” a friend said dryly, implying there was nothing new to examine there. But it turned out to be mashed potatoes with a difference, chunky and spiked with the salt of fish sauce and pickled mustard greens, plus the flavors of garlic, onion, ginger, cilantro, chili oil and green onion, the kind of dish that makes your eyes roll around in your head while you try to take in the complexity and explosion of flavors. It’s among my favorites of the new dishes.

Another is the Kachin whole fish with fern shoots wrapped in a banana leaf ($24). The fish of choice is moi, with its rich, fatty white meat. This takes hours to marinate in an herb paste crushed by hand with mortar and pestle, so only a limited quantity of the fish is available daily. Sai said he questioned the old-fashioned process at one point, so tried tossing the herbs into a blender, but the result was not the same. That makes sense because the essences released by crushing are likely to deliver more depth than those released with a blade cut.

Flavors tend to be assertive here, so this is not the place for timid palates. I will try almost anything, but found a soft-shell crab salad ($14) overly strong in its crab essence. Sai tries his best to accommodate those with allergies and food sensitivities, noting that most of the dishes can be made vegetarian.

FOOD-SHY TYPES who happen to be out with adventurous friends will find comfort in plainer selections such as Myeik pan-fried noodles ($15), thick chow fun-style noodles stir-fried with bean sprouts, shrimp, chicken, egg and a touch of fish sauce; or a pumpkin pork stew ($17) with garlic, ginger, onion, turmeric, a bit of fish sauce and miso.

The Burmese have a taste for sour food that most Americans can’t tolerate, so recipes have been adjusted in that regard. Even a dish of prawns with Burmese sour leaf (from a type of hibiscus, $18) isn’t as sour as it could be, but has the powerful smell and flavor of bamboo shoots and dried shrimp, contributing to a musty, fermented quality.

I have the feeling more will find satisfaction with a dish of lemon grass prawns ($14). The dish looks almost identical, but here the blanketing thick-textured paste is of dried chili, lemon grass, onion, garlic, ginger and dried shrimp. The lemon grass is not particularly strong, yielding to the other flavors.

There is much more to explore and you can do so by going BYOB while Rangoon awaits approval of its liquor license.

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