“Ready or not” blares a pink neon sign in this spot with L.A. vibes. It’s not ready. Despite donating proceeds to charities, the eatery is not very charitable to diners. Colombian potato soup arrives as an empty bowl and then is theatrically poured at the table; it seems—as so much of the food does—like an afterthought or postscript. The chefs’ menu may as well be a Post-it. Hen-of-the-woods buffalo strips are tasty (if a bit overpowering), but we received just three on our $17 plate. And at $19, the P.S. burger should taste better and bolder than the tedious microwaved Gardenburgers vegans have swallowed for decades. Sure, the chocolate-and-raspberries dessert—elevated by a kiss of calamansi in the puree—is a toe-curling indulgence. But P.P.S.: Get ready for a helluva mixed bag. Or not.
