In many Asian families, noodles are a must for the holiday table as a symbol of one of the great blessings for a new year, a promise of longevity.

If you missed this detail to start 2019, don’t worry, you get a do-over on Feb. 4, the eve of the Lunar New Year.

Among new restaurants, Joy Cup Noodles Mean fits the bill of offering bowls of long Chongqing-style noodles in mild to Sichuan hot versions.

Food is new to Joy Cup, which opened about two years ago, specializing in boba teas and shave ice. One must sell a lot of tea to make rent, and on a stretch of Kalakaua Avenue — between Frog House and Do-ne restaurants — that doesn’t get an extraordinary amount of foot traffic, offering lunch and dinner seemed to be a logical way to expand the business.

If you’re wondering how it compares to other new-ish Chengdu-style Sichuan restaurants around town, Joy Cup’s heat is pretty mild. Owner Lulu Luo offers a range of heat levels numbered from one (not spicy) to 10 (spiciest). I was too afraid to try spice level 10, but went up to nine, which barely tingles.

But there are all kinds of palates, and some people I know find level three is the boundary of their tolerance level. Meanwhile, Luo says there are people who ask her to increase the spice level to 14 or 20, and she complies by augmenting the Sichuan er jing tiao chilies with the all-American Carolina Reaper, which holds the Guinness World Record as the hottest chili pepper in the world. Her business partner Rick Shankles, who can’t tolerate much heat in food, said, “They’re sitting there sweating, their faces turn red, but they love it.”

Extreme requests aside, she makes her food the way her mom made it, and she doesn’t believe in adding too much fire, which numbs the palate to the rest of the flavors in her noodles. About 21 ingredients — from garlic to sesame paste and preserved mustard greens — go into flavoring her dan dan noodles, while about 14 go into other dishes such as beef and pork noodles.

The menu started with about eight noodle dishes and four other dishes, but it’s growing by the day as Luo continues to add salads and appetizers representing her home town, such as a “fish fragrant” eggplant salad ($3.99) that has nothing to do with fish, but merely embraces the balance of hot, sour, salty and sweet flavors common to Sichuan fish dishes. This dish took the longest to prepare so arrived at the end of the meal, and my local palate was thrown by the dusting of white cane sugar on top. Like the dollop of chili paste on top, it was meant to be stirred in to balance the dish before eating.

She’s most excited by a dish of “Couples Lung,” which again, has nothing to do with eating lungs. It was the creation of a Chengdu couple who experimented with beef offal and came up with the dish of thin-sliced spiced beef. Even so, I couldn’t get past the word “lung,” and passed on this stir-fry of beef and beef tongue.

The best place to start is with the dan dan noodles ($11.99 small/$13.99 large), the most popular of Sichuan street foods. Besides sesame paste, the dish is known for incorporating the tongue-numbing Sichuan peppercorn, but I didn’t get that effect. I would say this would be a starter restaurant for diners who want to explore flavors of the region without the pain associated with more fiery interpretations.

Those with timid palates can start with the soupless cold sesame noodles ($8.99) with the savory flavor of sesame, tempered by the brightness of Chinese black vinegar. It’s a beautiful pairing that brings the sourness Chinese diners crave, without going overboard. Sour flavors make food seem less heavy, and you can explore this sensation further with a bowl of sour chicken noodles ($11.99).

Although beef noodle soup ($11.99/$13.99) is a Chongqing favorite, the beef bone soup seemed less interesting after trying the sesame noodles. It’s a personal preference, but more than the beef, I enjoyed the juicy sweet roast pork that topped a bowl of pork belly noodles ($13.99).

Those with peanut allergies should be aware that almost all the noodles contain roasted peanuts, and even if they’re not present in the dishes, some may be sensitive to the mere presence of peanuts in the environment.

About once a week, Luo makes the wheat noodles that are kept refrigerated until they go into her soups. The gluten-intolerant may request a dish of blanket noodles ($8.99) instead. These thicker sheet noodles are made to order so can be made gluten-free upon request.

The menu is augmented by a handful of Asian-American fusion dishes Shankles added for those like himself, who can’t manage heat. The former U.S. Marine spent eight years of service in Okinawa and brought back memories of Okinawa taco rice ($9.99), which subs white rice for the usual taco shell.

He also added Texas beef curry ($8.99) to address the scoffing of Japanese curry enthusiasts, who said they would never order it because they can make it at home. With a touch of chipotle, corn and chunky potatoes and carrots, the dish is a composite of two favorite local dishes, curry and beef stew.

And for kids 10 and younger, he added macaroni and cheese dotted with diced Spam, served in combination with chocolate milk or cocoa ($5.99).

Finish with Taiwan-style fluffy shave ice topped with fresh fruit syrups whenever possible.

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