Schwa is like a punky teenager who refuses to grow up. Year after year, the restaurant sticks to its guns with no servers, rap music booming overhead, and wildly imaginative, over-the-top cooking. Its divisiveness and fiercely independent spirit are memorable. As for what might come out of this kitchen, it’s anybody’s guess. How about gumbo but serve it chilled, aerated, and with a blue crab chip dotted with hoja santa aioli? A flaky, buttery cinnamon tart shell could arrive filled with foie gras ice cream and apples. Medallions of quail might be dusted in jerk seasoning and plated with onion rings and candied guava. Ever had a milk bun dusted in powdered mustard? At the meal’s end, the chefs may offer you a shot of whiskey. Have at it.