If Judy Jetson and the late Dr. Seuss met up for swinging cocktails and a nosh, Noodles would undoubtedly be the spot. Part child's fever dream, part space-age lounge, this glorious cafe in the new Hotel Yasmin features a décor that must be seen to believed, from shiny mirror balls to curved, furry structures rising up from the floor like the swishing tails of enormous ginger cats. The food isn't bad either, though any cuisine would pale in this weird, unbelievably cool biosphere.

The long, narrow dining room is heavy on the retro and extra-heavy on the fanciful. Diners are ushered past two enclosed atriums, each with small birch trees mysteriously suspended several feet off the ground. (If you crane your neck, you can see the suspension ropes, but why spoil the illusion?) Despite the profusion of strict geometric shapes, long chains of tiny metal beads and ultra-shiny baubles hanging from above, the Noodles vibe is laid-back to the max. Even the barstools, shaped like large lily pads perched on silver sticks, encourage one to sit back, chill out, and soak in some wild eye candy over a plate of buckwheat pasta.

The Noodles menu is truly international, a gastronomic holiday to exotic lands such as Finland, Korea and Thailand. And the kitchen staff seems to have a good grasp on the base elements and ingredients that define the dishes. Unlike many other restaurants in town, the ethnic food here is the real deal, not a failed experiment or a byproduct of what a chef thinks the dishes might taste like.

We dove into the all-you-can-eat salad bar, a small spread of grilled and fresh vegetables. It's an eclectic alternative to the ubiquitous tuna and Greek salads on nearly every menu in town, but there just isn't enough variety to make it a standout. Still, at 45 Kč ($1.90), it's a bargain.

We rode in on the rabbit saddle (170 Kč) as one of our main choices, chunks of rabbit marinated in fresh herbs and tarragon. A neat, round pile of the granular pasta, with delicate pieces of rabbit and veggies fanning outward typified the whimsical presentation of the dishes. The rabbit, slightly warm, sprinkled with fresh herbs and a lightweight oil marinade, was just this side of dry. But the compact texture of the meat, combined with just a shimmer of thyme and tarragon, encouraged us to finish every bite. With just a smidge of improvement, this dish would stand ear-to-ear with anything else on the menu.

The Thai Jantaboon noodles with boiled beef (180 Kč) caught our eye, as did the turkey, breaded in cornflakes and fried to a crisp (265 Kč). The noodles plate arrived as another visual delight: Arranged like child's art palette, with the pasta in the middle and the sides — from diced chili to boiled beef — along the perimeter in small, neat cutouts.

It's a clever concept, allowing the guest to mix the ingredients to taste. But it just didn't work as well as expected, particularly when attempting to lift the blend with chopsticks: Clumsy eaters need not apply. Nonetheless, the thick, soft noodles, swirled with lotus root, baby onion and coriander, gave the combination a nice, spicy kick. It's a worthy, if slightly unusual choice for die-hard Thai food fans.

Cornflakes are making a big splash in Prague, and we're not talking about the milk. The deep-fried turkey breast at Noodles is yet another dish caught up in the trend, arriving as two large, slightly heart-shaped tender turkey breasts fried in a crispy, orange coat of breakfast cereal. But it's the accompanying pepper-zucchini ragout that takes this dish to the next level: On their own, the turkey breasts have an appealing, childlike simplicity, almost like a chef's version of chicken nuggets; with the ragout, however, they're transformed into something more sophisticated. The crunchy turkey, combined with the slightly sweet sauce of zucchini and pepper, results in a pleasing yin and yang of texture and taste. Deep-fried potato cakes, not a bit greasy and perfectly crisp, make a notable side for the inspired vegetable sauce.