Atoll, in Pacific Beach, provides a postcard setting for those landlocked, out-of-town visitors who invariably request “dinner by the water” faster than they can unzip their suitcases. Tucked at the rear of the Catamaran Resort and Spa (a pretty property from front to back), the restaurant looks out to a manicured lawn speckled with flowers, palm trees and additional seating, all perched at the lip of Mission Bay.

The menu has a Polynesian-Hawaiian-Asian theme, and drum-beating dancers dressed scantily in South Pacific raiment break into torch-lighting rituals for the Wednesday night barbecue (available through Labor Day – $22.95 per person). Here is when you can safely tell Aunt Bee and Uncle Henry that they’re at an authentic luau, sans the pig on a spit.

My dining companion and I came specifically to sample the main menu and the dining room’s vibe, but throughout our supper we couldn’t stop eyeballing the silver chaffing dishes and smoking grill sating the barbecue crowd outside. Despite a fine view, the restaurant’s interior is outdated and remained largely empty during our visit. Plush, busy-print carpeting and heavy rattan chairs reminded me of how hotel restaurants used to look in the days before non-tourists bothered visiting them.

Conversely, the dinner offerings are rather contemporary; in that, they veer away from the surf-and-turf fare you’d expect to find amid ’80s-style décor. Chef Rob Famulare instead hopscotches around Asia by using curry, coconut, Thai basil, five spice and ginger in many of his dishes. The theme is interrupted on occasion, such as when dipping table bread into a fantastic cilantro-mint aioli, which is bold and addicting and takes on a brave kick of garlic. It’s served alongside fresh hummus and feisty jalapeno chutney.

The apex of our dinner resulted from several appetizers: Hawaiian Braised Short Ribs boasted a subtle fruity flavor, with a softness that matched the jiggly remnants of fat clinging to some of the meat. An order of Sesame Chicken Lettuce Wraps yielded no surprises – a basic stir-fry of poultry and veggies flavored with Hoisin sauce and finished with peanuts. Bib lettuce leaves used as “wrappers” were fresh and nicely chilled.

The pastry casing on our Lobster-Leek Spring Roll was exceptionally crisp and greaseless, although the large chunks of properly cooked lobster inside were sadly upstaged by a torrent of rice noodles coated in salty soy sauce. I find repeatedly that lobster becomes vapid gourmet matter whenever it’s paired with anything other than drawn butter or citrus.

A fourth appetizer, Rice Paper Wrapped Crab Cakes, came with a winning corn-shitake frisée salad drizzled with orange-Thai basil sauce. The rice paper membrane encasing the crab cake, however, was tough and prevented immediate access to the large amount of fluffy crabmeat within.

Busy and confusing was the Miso Seafood Broth, which carried the sweet and spicy essence of Tom Kha with miso hovering in the background. Or was this supposed to be bouillabaisse? The broth embodied an unexpected mound of seafood: clams, mussels, shrimp and a few mystery pieces of white fish, all overcooked except for a large pearly scallop perched in the center. The ensuing Firecracker Shrimp Salad with orange-sesame dressing was satisfying in parts – fresh mango, ripe avocado and sprightly lettuces marred by anemic tomatoes and skewered shrimp wrapped in bland, room-temperature egg roll casings.

My companion vacillated between France and Asia on his entrée plate with Ducking Two Ways. On one side was sliced breast, which we agreed was both overpowered by the five spice and rough like jerky. “I believe this duck took up bench pressing,” my friend commented. The duck sat on a bed of endive and wilted choi sum greens. The thigh piece, cooked confit style, was expectedly more tender, but salty throughout. Salvation came in the form of a few tart cherries that we wished had been used more liberally.

I chose Wok Seared Salmon, a gorgeous filet of wild fish with perfectly crisped skin impaired by a flat, white wine and butter sauce that lacked acidity. Though spaghetti-cut cucumbers dressed judiciously with rice vinegar proved to be a cohesive and unique accompaniment.

Our server was friendly and knowledgeable about the food and wine menus, but sporadic in his appearances because he also had to tend to barbecue patrons outside, who comprised the majority of customers that night. As we rehashed our meal over dessert – a moist puck of flourless chocolate cake and refreshing key lime pie – we agreed that our next visit to Atoll will likely involve dining al fresco with grilled meats and a few ears of corn on our plates.