The Biscuit would like to avoid straight-up reviews of restaurants, but it looks like that’s what we’re in for this week with the newly opened Noodles & Company.

The original intention was to go in with a video camera and film (in first person) ordering food for the first time. It would have been pretty cool, The Biscuit thinks, but apparently that’s against the chain’s corporate policy - no filming without contacting their Colorado headquarters. Luckily, we had a camera and a notebook on hand to document the eating experience anyway.

From the get-go, The Biscuit has to laud Noodles for updating the old rainbow monstrosity that once stood at 214 W. Franklin St. Although the renovated structure looks a little too prefabricated for Franklin, it’s better than what stood there before. The inside is cool, as well, with vaulted ceilings, nice wooden architecture and lots of room for tables inside and out.

After the initial appearance, however, the food is a welcomed, but not celebrated, addition to the college town’s thoroughfare. The chain claims to have “fresh global flavors sauteed to order and served fast,” which is partially true.

A colorful menu overwhelms first-time diners with items broadly categorized as Asian, Mediterranean and American. “Tell us what you’re in the mood for,” a sign reads, but everything is either noodles, soup or salad. You can customize each item with a different protein like chicken, shrimp or tofu and add vegetables and cheese. The Biscuit thinks Mediterranean should be switched to Italian because the only thing not from the boot-shaped peninsula is a salad with some feta and yogurt thrown on top to make it Greek. Anything that doesn’t make it under Italian or Far-Eastern is labeled American.

The prices aren’t bad at all. Regular-sized noodles go for $5.25 or $7.25 with a protein. The Biscuit recommends ordering the trio, which is a small portion of noodles with meat and a side salad or soup for $7.25, because there is no discernible difference between the large and small. In addition, you get to try another item. Beware, however, that you cannot order the entree salads that sound a lot better than tossed green or Caesar.

The Biscuit decided to try the Indonesian Peanut Saute with organic tofu and a bowl of the tomato basil bisque. His companions opted for the Penne Rosa pasta with Parmesan crusted chicken breast, Caesar salad and Wisconsin Mac & Cheese, with the same chicken, to cover all the menu’s bases. Although Noodles puts out a “Guide to Good Balance” describing the nutritious options, none of the dishes we ordered fell under the “Watching Calories” or “Watching Carbs” tabs. The saute was the only one managing to be classified as “Watching Fat.” The Biscuit was at least intrigued that they described their food as “healthful” instead of “healthy.” Good work, Noodles.

As for being fast, Noodles wasn’t. They claim to be, but it took 10 minutes to get each person’s order, and we ordered separately. Because of that, every dish was cold, which was perhaps the worst part of the eating experience.

Here’s the breakdown on the dishes:

The tomato basil soup, er bisque, was as good as any other tomato sauce labeled as soup. It had a nice texture with little pockets of garlic and herb, and the base was creamy without being too heavy. The Biscuit would have really enjoyed a slice of bread on the side so that he didn’t feel like he was eating Marinara. Considering side dishes, the Caesar salad was a Caesar salad, and it tasted fresh.

Shining above all, the Indonesian Peanut Saute satisfied The Biscuit. The thick noodles had a good bite without being too chewy. Fresh broccoli, carrots and bean sprouts added a good crunch and contrast to the tofu, which was unappetizingly thick, almost meaty. The creamy sauce may have made the noodles feel a little slimy, but it had a good spice-to-sweetness ratio with a strong peanut taste. For the relative size and price, the saute was worth it.

The Wisconsin Mac & Cheese wasn’t bad either. There were two layers of texture: one soupy, melted blend of cheese and cream on the bottom and a thicker, chewier strata of Cheddar-Jack. Elbow macaroni made it easy to eat, though The Biscuit’s grandma and yours too, most likely, does it better. The chicken was unnecessary.

The remaining Pasta Rosa, however, was quite disappointing. Too-chewy pasta and bad tomatoes, in addition to the chicken, which was some amorphous glob of cold, white could-be-any-kind-of protein, turned The Biscuit off. At first the spiciness was a welcome addition, but in the end, The Biscuit could only describe the dish as tasting like heartburn. Really.

We finished it off with a huge snoodledoodle, the chain’s version of a snickerdoodle, which is no different from the original cookie besides the name. It was soft and flavorful, except - The Biscuit has no idea why - water seemed to leak out of the dough with each bite as if it had been injected with fluid to appear more plump.

All in Noodles & Company wasn’t too bad. The ability to try flavors from around the world at a low price pleased The Biscuit. With each menu item, however, you know you’re eating fast-food. It might not be served quickly, but it’s prepared with mass-production in mind. Even the tasty saute was obviously some corporate recipe - it wasn’t much different from the microwavable bowls you can get at the grocery store.

The Biscuit appreciates the upward direction that new fast-food chains are going, but he’ll head to a Chinese restaurant when he wants anything off Noodle’s Asian menu, an Italian restaurant when he wants anything off the somewhat inaptly named Mediterranean menu and to every other kind of eatery when he’s in the mood for something American.