Before the Saturday-night rush starts at Roll-N-Roaster, the kitchen staff of 32 starts to work all the machines: the ovens roasting beef, the juicers squeezing lemons, the grills searing burger patties, the cash register pinging under a yellow sign that announces, “You can have cheez on anything you pleez.”

By 6 p.m., the dinnertime crowd is lining up, tugging children along. By 7, the parking lot and the streets surrounding this Brooklyn fixture, which has stood near the shoreline of Sheepshead Bay for more than 40 years, crawl with cars.

Against the deepening blue of the sky, the restaurant glows with what the manager, Ayet Karce, calls “earth tones”: brown plastic trays, orange walls, yellow tables, golden cottage fries and pub-style hanging lights with glass the color of fried mozzarella sticks. It is a palace of fast food, decorated with what could be the relics of a 1970s garage sale.

The smiley-face sticker on the glass front door says, “Smile, your on roll-n-camera.” A thicket of sunflowers is by the cash registers, orange balloons are given to every child, and an orange banner hangs from the ceiling, bearing a pineapple and the word “Welcome.” But behind the pineapple banner hangs a menu; nothing on it costs more than $7.45.