Sqirl for Dinner. 2025. Really.
For years, I imagined Sqirl as an all-day kind of place. Sun up to sun down. But dinner? That felt like the final form — not a reinvention, but a natural evolution. Think: table service and food that still feels unmistakably us, just in its eveningwear. Less mimicking a French bistro, more like an LA bistro dreamt up by someone who grew up here. Someone who still revels in the fleeting beauty of the seasons and how we can interpret these moment while not taking it or anything else for that matter for granted.
To do dinner properly, I feel we need the full food & beverage experience. Yes, we’ve always been proud of our non-alcoholic program — and still are — but sometimes, a perfectly cooked steak really just wants to hang out with a crisp Martini. And continuing the exploration of producer driven F&B is something that I personally desire in my continued education. And for that, a Type 47 liquor license holds the key.
Now, LA has never made that easy. Once upon a time, our little 800-square-foot space couldn’t even qualify for beer and wine because we didn’t have two bathrooms. (We still don’t. Sorry.) So for the last 13 years, we focused solely on breakfast and lunch — we built dishes that became cultish and comforting, deeply technical and seemingly simple. Our foundation firmly relies on fermentation, upcycling, and developing flavors and textures that stick in your memory. We stayed daylit.
Then, in 2022, something wild happened. Thanks to a pandemic-induced regulatory shift, we got the green light to apply for a beer and wine license under LA’s RBP program — a bureaucratic acronym that we now hold very dear. Huge love to Eddie Navarrette and the IRC team for cutting through the red tape like butter.
We applied. We waited. A full year later, we were blessed with the holy grail: a beer and wine license. Enter Erin Rolek, a longtime collaborator since Onda days and a thoughtful wine professional who curated a list that has made us all feel feelings. She built out our wine program like it was a personal art project. We said: “Dinner, Winter 2023.”
And then... we didn’t.
You see, Sqirl runs like a bullet train. We’ve got catering, daily service, a seven-day rhythm that doesn’t leave much room to dream up a dinner menu with intention. Then we found out we might actually qualify for a full liquor license (a Type 47, for those keeping score). So we hit pause. Again.
Spoiler: we got it. On Christmas Eve 2024, no less. (Is that what Santa brings restaurateurs? A liquor license just days before Dry January?) The catch? We had to either buy one off the open market for $120K (post fire they’re going for 100K) or win one in a lottery. We gambled. We won.
So. March 2025, right?
Enter: LA wildfires. Then ICE raids. Then a deeply quiet summer marked by Hollywood shutdowns, dwindling tourism, and economic uncertainty. The bright side? The restaurant community showed up hard for each other — in group chats, meal trains, and mutual aid spreadsheets. (Shoutout to everyone in “ICE Watch” and “Dinner Thread.” You know who you are.)
Amidst the silence, we focused. Finally. Fully. On dinner.
At the heart of this next chapter are two culinary forces: Sandra Felix and Guillermo Mendez.
Sandra’s been with us since 2020, and if you’ve ever eaten our French toast or latkes, you’ve tasted her magic. She’s a straight-shooter and a quiet perfectionist with a low-key obsession for depth of flavor. Ironically, she’s not a fan of eggs (the horror!), but she’s basically the egg whisperer. She’s also been waiting patiently for this dinner moment — her moment — to finally land.
Guillermo recently joined as Executive Sous, and he’s here to anchor us in the PM. Trained in fine dining but rooted in Texas flavor, he brings heat and finesse in equal measure. Also? Kindest guy ever. Like, glowing reference checks across the board. And his cooking? Bold, surprising, textured. And, well, so delicious. He’s the kind of chef who’ll pitch a dish that hits out to my left-field, but in execution, completely rearranges your expectations in the best way.
Our pastry wizard Rhaisa Baca and her team are also here to remind us that desserts belongs on the menu, not hiding on a small card that is dropped at the table like some shy afterthought.
The food? It’s fun. It’s deeply considered, but it doesn’t feel like it needs a dissertation. It’s joyful. It makes space for the nostalgic and the unexpected — a reflection of how we’ve cooked, what we’ve loved, and where we’ve been. It’s dinner that wants to be shared. That maybe insists on a martini. That whispers, come back tomorrow.
It’s food for us — and, we hope, for you too.
I started Sqirl as a jam company at 29. I’m 44 now. The growth — personal, professional, existential — has been intense, often overwhelming, and strangely wonderful. There were moments I didn’t think we’d ever get here. And now, I’m watching this little restaurant of ours become what it was always meant to be.
Same Sqirl. Just older, wiser, more grounded in its voice. Still curious. Still evolving. Still got it.
As we count down to opening, I’ll be sharing updates every Tuesday: dish tests, behind-the-scenes glimpses, menu insights, probably a few tangents like this one. Thanks for coming along for the ride.
So yes — finally, and for real — Sqirl for Dinner. 2025.
💗
Jess
Twice Fried Potato, Smoked Trout Roe, Spicy Potato Sabayon, Chive
