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Before I get to describing the jewel of a restaurant that is Pelican Café, let me throw out this catch phrase: “Hot doughnuts now.”

Of course, that’s the mantra of Krispy Kreme, the chain that had a brief, ill-fated run in Palm Beach County. But it might as well be the morning motto of Pelican Café, which indeed serves some of the most glorious (and hot!) doughnuts to be found in these parts — in varieties ranging from blueberry to apple cider.

Never mind that the year-old Lake Park cafe is better known to many of its already loyal patrons for its dinner offerings, especially a solid array of Italian-American dishes. I still marvel at the thought that there’s a place to get an honest-to-goodness fresh doughnut — a “decadent doughnut,” as Pelican calls them — in town.

Indeed, it’s not only a rare restaurant that makes its own doughnuts, it’s also a rare restaurant that serves both breakfast and dinner — and that’s a cut above your local diner at the same time. Pelican is a such a place — an eatery with all-day ambitions and a sense of homey stylishness.

It begins with the setting. Pelican Café is situated in the space formerly belonging to Café du Parc, a much-lauded French restaurant. The Pelican team — host and sometime chef Mark Frangione and his fiancée, Karen Howe — has brought the restaurant back to Florida by way of New England (where Frangione grew up). It’s clean and bright, with wood floors and white paint giving it a nicely open feel. But such cozy touches as handmade tablecloths still find their place in the mix.

If you come for breakfast, the doughnuts are a must-order item. Actually, you don’t have to order them, since every patron receives a free sample — a sweet touch, literally. Pelican makes a cake doughnut, which is heavier than Krispy Kreme’s yeast version. In that regard, the hot ones may not be the best way to go — the doughnuts need time to firm up. Still, there’s real flavor to these things — as opposed to just a lot of sugar and fat. I’d make a point of ordering a few extra (90 cents apiece or $9.95 per dozen) to take home for the next day’s breakfast (though truth be told, mine were devoured long before then).

Otherwise, breakfast fare is elegantly hearty, if such a term can be coined. Think a plate of eggs Benedict with a generous helping of smoked salmon ($12.95) or banana nut French toast ($9.95) that’s made the classic way, with challah bread that’s gotten a good dunking in egg batter.

But if the breakfast menu bears a slight resemblance to coffee-shop fare, dinner is often more ambitious, replete with a small but well-chosen wine list. In many ways, it’s a split menu. Part of the emphasis is indeed on Italian-American fare. Frangione boasts that he uses his mother’s recipes, and it shows in such satisfying, unpretentious dishes as baked stuffed clams ($7.95), a Mom Frangione’s Sunday Pasta with meatballs and sausage ($18.95) and a heaping bowl of rigatoni Bolognese ($17.95).

Even better may be a sizable veal chop ($32.95) that you can have prepared a variety of ways (I went with the cheese-laden Parmesan version).
But there’s a good portion of the menu that goes in other directions — say, such Continental-style offerings as a 6-ounce filet mignon ($24.95) and grilled salmon ($24.95). Some are simply adequate: You can probably find a better filet at a quality steakhouse. But some are quite remarkable: The salmon was deftly prepared and complemented with a first-rate Dijon mustard sauce — in all, one of the best pieces of fish I’ve had in the past year.

The true evening delight comes at the end of the meal, however. More than once I heard Frangione tell a patron that every dessert — and he means every dessert ($4.95 to $6.95) — is homemade. I wish more restaurants followed his example rather than offering commercial items that have the texture of cardboard and the taste of corn syrup. Among Pelican’s finest desserts are a carrot cake with just the right texture (dense but not too dense) and a pineapple upside-down cake that’s a retro pleasure.

Service speaks to the fact that Pelican is both a gourmet-minded restaurant and a casual neighborhood eatery. Which is to say patrons are well-attended, but a dish might take a while arriving to the table on a busy night. As for Frangione, he’s a genial host, but he needs to hover a little less and let his food speak for itself.

Especially those doughnuts.