Holding out hope for new, all gluten-free restaurant

Service: very green and loose-lipped

Best dishes: fried chicken, mac and cheese, chocolate cake

Vegetarian selections: salads, appetizers, mac and cheese

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Price range: $$-$$$

Credit cards: all major credit cards

Hours: 8 a.m.-9 p.m. Sundays-Thursdays, 8 a.m.-10 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays

Children: fine

Parking: plenty

Reservations: suggested

Wheelchair access: yes

Smoking: no

Noise level: moderate

Patio: screened porch and a gorgeous outdoor space

Takeout: yes

Address, phone: 52B N. Main St., Alpharetta. 770-360-9395

Website: www.tinroofkitchen.com

“If you need anything, just drop a napkin over the balcony.” Really?

Those were the parting words from our waitress who’d just seated us on the second floor after repeated stern warnings that she wouldn’t be back to check on us or take orders for at least 20 minutes (it was 30). We were told that the kitchen was maxed out with the five or so occupied tables during this particular Sunday brunch, as were the servers (apparently).

I’d hoped that experience was a one-off, but received similar speeches from servers on two of my three subsequent visits, even when the restaurant was less than a third full. “Are you short-staffed?” I inquired, contemplating the problematic recurrence. “Oh no,” I was told. “We make everything in house. We don’t have a microwave, you know, so it just takes extra time.” I nodded in response while silently thanking Atlanta’s many from-scratch chefs and their servers who have mastered the delicate dance of restaurant timing.

Major service gaffes like these at Alpharetta’s Tin Roof Kitchen certainly don’t entice hard-won customers to return. But because this 2-month-old eatery caters to an underserved niche market, it may earn a pass and a second chance to smooth out opening wrinkles. Tin Roof, entirely gluten-free (save beer), offers diners avoiding these pesky proteins a chance to eat favored foods like buttermilk fried chicken and brioche-battered French toast — foods for which they’ve likely longed and are grateful to have available. The kitchen here may or may not be able to compensate for the service. It depends on the dish, the cook and the day.

Tin Roof Kitchen seems to be experiencing all the growing pains of a young restaurant. According to owner Robyn Rowles, photographer turned restaurateur/cook, customers were so excited about the concept, a safe place for celiacs like Rowles herself, things got busy faster than expected. She assures me that she has recently instituted prep lists and dish photos to boost kitchen consistency and staff training to address service issues.

Concerns aside, Tin Roof Kitchen has a lot going for it. Set just off Alpharetta’s Main Street, it has a very serene space complete with a gazebo overlooking a koi pond with a babbling water feature, a screened patio and a second level adorned with stained-glass windows.

I’m pulling for this one and I’m not alone. While many restaurants have improved gluten-free offerings, Tin Roof Kitchen is one of the very few that have committed to running an entirely gluten-free operation, making it a place where those who suffer from celiac disease don’t have to fret about cross contamination.

Everyone who has given up gluten has a food they miss dearly. Tin Roof Kitchen hasn’t tackled the warm Krispy Kreme doughnut my husband craves, but it has a nice surprise for those who lament parting with fried chicken ($18). Here, the crispy bird comes boneless heaped with a mess of creamy gravy. Although the well-seasoned batter detaches from the breast in a single sheet, it offers a nice crunch and counterpoint to the moist meat.

Maybe mac and cheese was your food love. If so, here you can get a simultaneously low-brow and luscious version ($9) made with rice pasta to indulge this comfort fantasy. Gorge on noodles swaddled in a thick, burnt-sienna-colored blanket of crusty cheese glistening with white truffle oil (add $2). You won’t be able to tell it’s gluten-free. High praise, indeed.

It’s the bread that’s the missing piece for many. Tin Roof Kitchen has a dedicated baker to prepare gluten-free loaves of French, sourdough, brioche. Guests won’t have to go without. Muenster-coated burgers ($13) come on an actual bun (no lettuce wrap!), a beautifully golden and surprisingly fluffy accouterment. Toasted French bread slices, occasionally perfect and other times sawdusty, accompany a very mild pimento cheese ($9) topped with a syrupy bacon jam. Breakfast brings light, puffy waffles ($10) loaded with cinnamon. Let there be bread.

Yet, it’s the “other” here that stumps the kitchen — standards beyond the gluten-free substitutes. Like the awkward teen phase this restaurant is in, the dishes can be clumsy and off-kilter. The lamb chops ($26), a disastrous layering of sweet-upon-sweet, come with thick-as-jelly mango glaze over quinoa sweetened with dried cherries and apricots. The red snapper ($22) sits atop a pink-hued strawberry-rhubarb cream mixture barely peeking out from beneath the pools of golden oil covering the broken sauce. The coyote salmon ($22) wilts beneath a beehive’s worth of honey in the red-chili-honey glaze.

Let’s save all that sweet for the last course. The dark and fudgy chocolate cake ($7) with chocolate buttercream is your best bet. Textural issues creep up on the fruit and wine cobbler ($7) over a jumble of cake crumbles that gum in your mouth. But that’s not a problem with the cannoli shells ($7), crisp but not crumbly. Pair those with a cup ($3.50) of rich Counter Culture coffee (limit two refills!).

Tin Roof Kitchen has some work to do, but it holds a valuable place in our restaurant community. I’m holding out hope. I’m not yet ready to wave the white napkin — er, flag.