During the immediate aftermath, Koslow responded to the allegations with a number of statements and apologies, acknowledging that she had room to grow as a business operator. While its lines have seemingly returned, the restaurant has remained just outside the margins of the “Best of” lists it used to top. Angelenos who used to love Sqirl continue to grapple over what is forgivable and what the conditions for forgiveness may even be. In the years since the scandal, Koslow has worked to make amends: collaborators feature prominently on Sqirl’s Instagram; the jam is produced under more stringent guidelines; and, on a recent podcast, Koslow spoke to how she, and the restaurant, have changed.

In terms of its food, Sqirl is as good as it’s ever been, if not better. The recent addition of dinner service plays to Sqirl’s strengths with an inventive slate of dishes such as borscht-inflected agnolotti that spotlight fermentation processes and local produce. On busy days, it still feels like the Hunger Games trying to secure a table during breakfast and lunch.

Content creators vie for the perfect patch of sunlight on the sidewalk to shoot photos of their ricotta jam toast while regulars look on over a cup of coffee in amusement (and mild annoyance). The communal interior table buzzes as conversations cross-pollinate while diners wait for plates of the Latke-Tot and steaming cast iron pans of Shaq (Sqirl’s shakshuka). Some groups, clearly at their last stop on the way to the airport, juggle suitcases on the less-than-even sidewalk to get one last taste of Los Angeles via Sqirl. As the late afternoon approaches, the crowd calms: most tables are occupied with a single diner tucked into a bowl of tomato and ginger-tinged rice porridge and a book.

Waits remain a near constant at Sqirl. If hoping to skip the line, dip into Sqirl Away (the adjacent space set just to the right of the entryway), which serves the entire menu to go, alongside artisanal pantry products, pastries, jam, and wine. The neighboring Bellevue Park or Barnsdall make for great picnic spots.

Sqirl defined a generation of early 2010s California restaurants: crispy breakfast rice became aspirational among salad fanatics; a jar of Sqirl jam in your fridge served as a status symbol. Over the last decade-plus, Sqirl has just become more itself with a menu of instantly recognizable classics alongside constantly evolving specials and pastries. Whether Koslow and Sqirl deserve another chance can only be individually discerned — not deemed by the collective. But once there, it’s hard to deny the reason for its longevity: the food is damn good.