Happy Thanksgiving. Today is for family and football, but tomorrow morning - once you've had your fill of turkey and turnips, the in-laws, and dirty dishes - why not treat yourself to a relaxing breakfast?

Long known for its elegant dinners, the Shelter Harbor Inn in Westerly serves all three meals 365 days a year. Overnight guests eat breakfast free, but for $8 to $10 the public can order from the same menu, which features delicious, creative renditions of traditional favorites.

The eggs Benedict ($10) have always impressed me, and this time was no different. Mine arrived at the table hot, two eggs perfectly poached, the yolks bursting at the touch of my fork onto thick slabs of Canadian bacon and buttered and browned English muffins, all topped with a hollandaise sauce.

The sauce - creamy rather than frothy, buttery and only slightly tangy, abundant but not smothering - makes this dish without obscuring the other ingredients. I mopped up the last of it and the yolk with a slice of sourdough toast borrowed from my friend's plate.

We ate in the inn's central dining room, basking in the Sunday morning sunlight from the window beside us and inhaling the comforting autumn scent of the stone fireplace. Part of the original early 19th-century farmhouse, the room is bright with a blonde hardwood floor and white linens and cloth napkins on each table.

Our waiter greeted us with a plate of three gingerbread raisin scones, which were moist and chewy - a nice touch you won't find at your neighborhood diner. You pay a little more to eat in such a setting, but the atmosphere nonetheless remains casual.

Our waiter was a little slow to refill water glasses and forgot to bring sugar for our coffee, but he was polite and talkative, and he patiently got answers to every one of our questions.

Most of those questions were about the quiche of the day ($10). This was not the fluffy, cheesy variety served as a side at so many office banquets. This quiche stood about four inches tall, a hearty meal in its own right, a dense slice that brought to mind the original meaning of the word "quiche" - from the German "Kuchen," or cake. The inside oozed with a mildly smoky, sharp provolone and contained asparagus and chorizo. (It needed more chorizo.)

The best part was the crust - a dense and thick layer of rolled oats, slightly crunchy, that reminded me of homemade bread. It was vastly superior to the typical pastry crust, so often soggy and undercooked, that gives quiche a bad name. This was a quiche a man could order with no shame.

We also enjoyed the Boursin cheese omelet ($9). The cheese tasted so rich and creamy, it really didn't matter that it was also filled with apple-smoked bacon and caramelized onions. Shoe leather would taste great with Boursin cheese. The omelet was one egg too small, however. All of our breakfasts came with homefries, which were simple, pan-roasted redskins. The serving size should be doubled. The omelet and quiche each came with a choice of toast.

My friends and I saved a fourth plate for "dessert," the banana walnut French toast ($9). This dish was predictably sweet and syrupy, topped with caramelized banana slices and walnut halves. It featured thick slices of French bread moist and hot on the inside with a crunchy fried coating of corn flakes on the outside.

Eating it was like eating a glazed doughnut, only so much better. It could hold its own against the most sinful of French toast concoctions at your favorite diner, especially if the serving were bigger and it came with more than just two strips of crispy bacon.

At any rate, I am thrilled that we discovered the wonders of ordering a "dessert breakfast" and kicking myself for not thinking of it years ago.