[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

Built Custom Burgers

3584 South Figueroa St., Los Angeles CA 90007 (map); 626-795-5800; builtcustomburgers.com
Cooking Method: Grilled
Short Order: A solid entry into the crowded fast casual burger scene
Want Fries with That? Yes, but only if you are ok with a quickly cooling shoe string fry
Price: Burger with choice of cheese and basic toppings, $6.75; + fries and drink, $9.75

It seems foolish for a restaurant group to think now is a good time to enter the crowded fast casual burger market—a market that looks like it reached its saturation point long ago. But when your particular restaurant group could be credited with being among those that launched the trend, perhaps it only seems fair that you get a piece of the action.

Back in 2003, The Counter—a mid-scale, sit-down burger restaurant—opened on a sleepy street in Santa Monica with a simple idea: you know what kind of burger you like better than they do, so why not allow the customers to, well, customize? It caught on; they've since opened and franchised to over 30 locations worldwide.

Now the folks behind The Counter want in on some of that fast casual fast money. Enter Built Custom Burgers by The Counter. Yes, it's in oddly long name, and yes, it's clearly a business development strategy disguised as a restaurant, but that doesn't mean they can't serve good burgers. And, as it happens, they do. Mostly. Let's take a closer look and agree that we'll just call it Built from now on.

[Image: builtcustomburgers.com]

The underlying architecture of this fast casual burger customization outfit is the assembly line. You've seen it before and you'll see it again because it works. Subway and Chipotle figured out that we like watching our food prepared under our instructions. (I find sometimes people enjoy this a little too much, at least the giving instructions part.) Built takes the same approach to your burger preparation. It's an eight-step ordering process, which sounds like a lot because it is. You order the basics (type of patty, toppings, and bun) and then make your way down the line. The process was awkward during my visit, but seeing as they just opened in March, I'm sure it'll get smoother as they work out the kinks.

I ordered their basic beef patty with American cheese, lettuce, tomato, and onions on their standard hamburger bun with a side of Thousand Island dressing. Add a side of fries and drink and it all comes to under ten bucks. This seems the right price point for what you get.

The patty sounds a bit undersized at 1/4-pound—I'd choose a 1/3-pound as the Platonic ideal—but I didn't find it to be woeful. I wouldn't opt for the double on a Built burger. The beef was full of flavor from a hearty bit of seasoning which, I'm happy to report, seems less dangerous than we might have once thought. Built won't give you much temperature control over your patty, which is too bad because this beef is good enough for a proper medium-rare cooking. To their credit, my patty still showed some juice even in its overcooked medium-well presentation.

The toppings were all solid and tasty. It turns out I do know what I like on my burger. What I don't like is a weak bun, and again, to Built's credit, theirs is a good one. At first I thought it was too big for a single patty, but I ended up enjoying the substantial bun.

The "shoestring" fries were not so much disappointing as poorly constructed for this concept. The thin cut (a little thicker than traditional shoestring) of these spuds works with a hot-out-of-the-oil side of fries, but even then you get a scant couple of minutes of tastiness before they cool and lose their bite. Mine made their way onto my plate well before my burger was ready, so they had cooled passed their sweet spot. Built would do better with a wider cut fry that holds the heat a bit longer.

You can tell Built is still ironing out some of the operational wrinkles, but the basics seem to be in order: good burgers at a fair price. Perhaps there's always room for that.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

El Cholo Café

260 East Colorado Boulevard, Pasadena CA 91101 (map); 626-795-5800; elcholopasadena.com
Cooking Method: Griddled
Short Order: An outpost of the classic LA Mexican restaurant makes a sad burger
Want Fries with That? Pass; have the rice and beans instead
Price: Cheeseburger (w/rice and beans), $9.95

It may seem like folly trying to hunt down a delicious burger at a Mexican restaurant, but allow me to present a few pieces of evidence that argue in my favor. First off, there's the recent review by my colleague Wes describing the awesomeness to be found at Mexican joint in San Francisco. Earlier this year, fellow AHT'er Erin found a great chorizo-topped burger at a Mexican restaurant in San Diego. More locally, one of my favorite local burger lunch options is Yuca's in my sleepy little neighborhood of Los Feliz. Lastly, if you go hunting at one of the outposts of the legendary LA Mexican restaurant El Cholo, you'll see a reproduction of the original menu from 1923 that served up a "Hamburger Steak." Oh, did I mention that I was out for dinner on Cinco de Mayo? There's that, too.

So there I am at the Pasadena location, El Cholo Cafe, margarita in hand, mariachi band blaring, ready to celebrate Cinco de Mayo with a fantastic Mexican meal that would include the restaurant's historical cheeseburger. How was it? Well, let's say that the Mexican food was tasty and the cheeseburger should be relegated to history.

El Cholo Cafe's version is so completely unappealing and underwhelming I loathe to summon my memory, but alas, let me power through the description of this burger so that others needn't suffer through it.

The six ounces of ground chuck came out so overcooked I thought it might be a practical joke. It was a desiccated and leathery mass that was barely better than what you'd find at the worst of fast food outlets. Think airplane cheeseburger and you're getting close.

The cheese, which you'd imagine to be a strongsuit for a restaurant that must go through hundreds of pounds of the stuff every day, was barely melted and offered little solace to the dry and juiceless patty. The bun wasn't all bad as it had a nice sponginess and was reminscent of an authentic bolillo. And that's it. There isn't anything else to talk about with this burger. A little jalepeño to spice things up? Nope. A little mayo to add fat and flavor? No sir. Just a wan, dry patty, some bland cheese, and a bun.

I went with the rice and beans as a side to keep with the Cinco de Mayo theme and they delivered. El Cholo's version is straight up refried tradition with short grain rice. Simple and pleasing is perfectly acceptable and this side dish is just that.

Now, I actually don't mind a meal at El Cholo and that's because I usually go with the blue corn chicken enchiladas. I ordered them as a backup and thank goodness I did. They remain an entirely satisfying take on the classic enchilada plate.

In the end, perhaps that's all one should ask for from a Mexican spot; that is, good Mexican food. Add to that a convivial atmosphere and some margaritas (both of which were in abundance on Sunday evening) and you've got a resturant worth going to, burger or not. Of course, as I mentioned earlier, I've discovered a delicious burger at a Mexican joint in the past as have some of my colleagues. Perhaps the burger I got at El Cholo is what I deserved since I ordered it on Cinco de Mayo.

...Scratch that, no one deserves a burger that bad.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

Armon's

5056 Eagle Rock Blvd., Los Angeles, CA 90041 (map); 323-478-1440; Facebook
Cooking Method: Griddled
Short Order: An old-school, neighborhood diner serves an ordinary burger, but they do it with heart
Want Fries with That? Pass; try one of the Asian dishes instead
Price: Cheeseburger (w/fries), $6.95

How good does a burger have to be to be acceptable? I imagine this question, like so many about our beloved sandwich, evokes some full-throated opinions. I asked myself this question when considering the burger at Armon's in Eagle Rock. The now quinquagenarian diner that sits a few storefronts down from the Eagle Rock Boulevard and Colorado intersection is a frozen-in-time mid-century beauty. It has the formica perfection that I crave from a great American diner and some equally perfect American stories behind it. But does its very ordinary burger make for an acceptable midday meal?

I'd like to proclaim a definitive yes, but the burger politician in me compels me to say: depends. That is to say, it depends on your idea of acceptable. For me it's a sliding scale. Sometimes the pure quality of the ingredients will slide the burger into the safe zone. Sometimes it's impeccable execution. And sometimes it's just that I like eating it in the joint. Such is the case with Armon's.

There isn't anything special to report about their cheeseburger ($6.95). It's standard Americana sandwiching. Commercial beef portioned into just under six ounces or preformed mediocrity is matched with a commercial bun and some standard toppings. The lettuce tomato, onion and pickle aren't so much a choice as they are a mandate.

My burger came out well done despite my imploring my entirely appealing server for a medium-rare patty. Sigh. No surprise there. Still, it wasn't entirely without juice and it showed a hint of crust from the griddle. The toppings were satisfactory and that was just fine. A slathering of mayo added some extra fat and the commercial bun, as I they usually are, was just great.

The fries were also just fine. Krinkle cut and frozen doesn't make for a bad side, but it also means they're going to be just ok. It all added up to an average burger at what seemed to be an average restaurant.

But I noticed an odd collection of offerings on the last page of the menu. A handful of Asian dishes. My server, from Thailand, explained that the last two sets of owners were Chinese and Thai. And the cooks? Mexican. Welcome to America.

The chicken stir fry was actually fresh and, if not entirely inspired, the best thing I tasted. It made me think I could come back and hear some more about this diner that had fostered so many American dreams. Yes, it was an acceptable cheeseburger.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

The Federal Bar

5303 Lankershim Blvd., Los Angeles, CA 91601 (map); 323-850-5400; thefederalbar.com
Cooking Method: Grilled
Short Order: An attractive bar makes an unappealing upscale burger
Want Fries with That? Nope; these thick-cut spuds get have a cardboard texture that is a real disappointment
Price: The Federal (w/fries), $11

The Federal Bar is one of a number of restaurants that dot the gentrifying strip of Lankershim Boulevard that's now rebranded as the NoHo Arts District. While I used to bemoan the bland brush of gentrification, I've long since made my peace with the unstoppable force that is the real estate developer's vision (or do I mean to say greed?). Yes, the New York City of my youth has transformed into something other than the collection of neighborhoods that once beguiled me. So, too, has much of the landscape here in Los Angeles. In both cases, my complaints seem like little more than an old man's fear of the clock running out on him.

So, to the embrace. When I first moved to LA I didn't live far from where The Federal Bar now sits, and the truth is that young man of the past would've loved a watering hole as attractive and full of attractive people as The Federal Bar of the present. I can't take issue with what seems to be a self-conscious capitalization on the gastropub movement from a large scale entertainment group.

What I can take issue with is their burger. I stopped by for lunch to reminisce about the past with the guy I first lived with just minutes from The Federal Bar. The nostalgia was just right—the burger not so much.

The basic burger offering on the menu is called The Federal ($11) and it doesn't sound all that bad. It's an eight-ounce patty topped with garlic chips, smoked cheddar, bibb lettuce, and balsamic onions. What they don't mention is the ridiculously brioche bun and just how bland the execution of all of the above is.

The patty itself seemed to be one of the preformed variety. This doesn't mean it's low quality, but what it does mean is that the meat is too densely packed and, especially in this large portion, unappealing in its texture. The grill marks were present but not pronounced in the way that betrays a properly heated grill. The smoked cheddar was smoke on top of the already smoky flavor from the grilling and seemed to be an odd choice. The onions were overcooked and bitter. Lastly, the bun—a bulbous tragedy of a brioche—was, as you've heard me report time and again about this class of bun, ill-suited to a burger.

The fries were very attractive and I thought they'd be the saving grace of the meal, but alas, all the herbs, parmesan cheese, and garlic couldn't mask the cardboard-like texture. I was so surprised by the disconnect between their look and flavor I double-checked with a taste of my dining companion's order of fries. Same problem.

I know this comes off as a rather harsh review and I'm not so pleased to give it. My experience at The Federal Bar unrelated to the food was great. The service was friendly and very attentive, it's an attractive room, and the beer is plentiful. I suspect a return to The Federal for a little reminiscing would best be served by limiting myself to the adult beverages. They go better with nostalgia anyway.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

The Pikey

617 W Sunset Blvd., Los Angeles CA 90046 (map); 323-850-5400; thepikeyla.com
Cooking Method: Char-grilled
Short Order: A creative chef makes a surprisingly uninspired burger
Want Fries with That? Yes! These thrice-cooked fries are excellent
Price: Char-Grilled Beef Burger (w/fries), $14 at lunch, $15 at brunch and dinner

The term "pikey" has an interesting history. It was, for may years, the pejorative used for all of the various interlopers who made their way onto English soil. Then in the 20th century it became the favored epithet hurled at the the Irish Traveller community. For Americans, it would be tantamount to the word "gypsy." Today, pikey describes a certain devil-may-care attitude and distinct style of dress. Welcome to The Pikey, Hollywood style.

The interior of this one-year-old gastropub/watering hole on Sunset Boulevard is an achievement in art direction. It's decorated with large scale photos of Teddy Boys (pikey-types), which seem to be there to tease a little sense of history from the gleaming newness. (I'll leave it to you to determine how you feel about this history.) Even though expensive restaurateuring may not always result in burger greatness, one would expect chef Ralph Johnson—imported from the American Queen of gastropubbery and famous New York City burger destination The Spotted Pig—to deliver an epic burger. But one, or at least this one, would be wrong.

The Pikey Burger ($14 at lunch, $15 at brunch and dinner) is described on the menu quite simply as a char-grilled beef burger with Bandaged Cheddar, tomato, Worcestershire aioli, and chips. Yet somehow it's so much less than that. This reworking of the traditional burger was a disappointment. After a ridiculously long wait for my food during a not particularly busy lunch, the burger came along with an order of fish and chips and a romaine salad. Lest you think I'm being ungenerous with The Pikey, let me tell you that the latter two dishes were very good. The salad was served with a vinegary chicken that was spectacular. Of course, we're not here to talk chicken.

The burger featured a sizable patty (roughly eight ounces) that had the sheen of an in-house grind and the cheddar was melted perfectly over it. The bun was challah, which is an interesting, if imperfect, choice. The whole thing looked rather beautiful. Sadly, its flavor didn't match its looks. The patty was clearly a higher-end grind that deserves some attention, but mine came out undercooked and underseasoned. A little time in an oven and a handful of salt would make this patty a star.

The Worcestershire aioli and cheddar (from Fiscalini) were tang on top of tang such that the beef got lost underneath it. The bun got a grilling of its own, which was nice, but the sweetness of the challah seemed out of place against the beef.

What didn't disappoint were the fries. These fresh cut spuds were fried three times and were rich and full of flavor. I found myself making them the centerpiece of my meal.

This is what I imagine one should do at The Pikey—avoid the burger and direct your attention to the chicken, fries, and other offerings in general. It's unfortunate because it seems like Johnson has a deft hand with most of his food. The burger, with its sly twists on tradition, could use a reworking.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

Spoonful

3413 Cahuenga Blvd W, Los Angeles, CA 90068 (map); 323-512-4800; spoonfulrestaurant.com
Cooking Method: Griddled
Short Order: This was a creative and spicy take on a cheeseburger that deserves a re-introduction
Want Fries with That? Yes! These are excellent fries that, thankfully, are still on the menu
Price: Burger (w/fries), $13; Buffalo Shrimp, $12; Soft Boiled Egg and Pork Belly, $10; Shrimp Po' Boy, $13

I'm not sure if I've ever been in the predicament that Spoonful has put me in. You see, I stopped by this relatively new restaurant that sits beside the 101 Freeway in the Cahuenga pass recently and treated myself to a burger (among many other things) and found it to be seriously good. Now, it's not that I don't know what to do with a really good burger (hence my expansive waistline), rather the predicament is telling the world about said burger now that owner, Frank Foley, has decided to take it off the menu.

I had a chat with him somewhere between my second expertly prepared Old Fashioned and a diabolical pecan pie and found out that he was taking the burger off the menu. I implored him to reconsider, but he presented an unassailable rationale: no one was ordering it. This is understandable considering Spoonful makes no bones about its Southern cooking inspiration and how well they deliver on those flavors. That is to say, there is a lot of deliciousness to be found on the menu beyond the burger. I'll tell you about a few dishes that stood out and then detail what made the burger so good. Don't think of it as a rubbing in the good fortune of my timing. Rather, think of it as a call to action. If you decide to stop by (you should) maybe you can tell Foley to get that burger back on the menu.

Spoonful is Foley's baby, but it's been weened by chef Victor Calderon's inspired cooking. Foley found Calderon through a rather TV-ready system. He invited all prospective chef candidates to cook him a meal with only $25 to spend on ingredients. Ready, set, cook. Calderon was, well, the victor. The spoils, however, go to the customers. He has managed to tease out a number of distinct takes on Southern classics as well as some fun bar food.

I tried a little sampler of dishes to start. (I should note that you'll have to order the full dishes separately.) Calderon managed to finally make me a Buffalo sauce dish I actually liked. I've never been one for wings, but his fried Gulf shrimp tossed in buffalo sauce with celery root purée and housemade Ranch dressing is very nice. It was a balance of heat and creaminess that hit all the right notes. But the truly inspired taste came from the crusted soft-boiled egg and pork belly. Calderon preps the egg with a dusting of panko and a deep fry for crunch. Then he lacquers the pork belly into sweet and fatty perfection.The addition of his vanilla gastrique, which he makes by reducing some apple cider vinegar and vanilla bean, sets in all off. Add a nice whiskey drink and you have a hangover brunch fit for a king.

You'l also find a wonderfully authentic shrimp po' boy ($12). The bread is spot-on and the shrimp aren't cooked into rubbery sadness. Rather, this is the kind of taste you're hoping to find when you visit Louisiana. At least that's what my Southeast Texas native dinner guest was quick to point out.

Then there is the burger ($13). Wait, I should say then there was the burger. Calderon's burger is a wonderfully distinct creation that still manages to hew to burger tradition. He starts with eight ounces of house-ground beef and hand forms it into a relatively slim patty considering the amount of beef. He adds a couple of slices of bacon, Swiss cheese, romaine lettuce, a slice from a standard 5 by 6 tomato, and spicy remoulade. All of this is layered on a commercial style bun.

There isn't much here that's far afield from your standard cheeseburger, but all of the component parts are handled beautifully. The beef was cooked to a perfect medium rare and delivered some serious juice. I'm usually not a fan of bacon on a burger, but the saltiness played nicely with the nuttiness of the Swiss. Then there was Calderon's remoulade. Here is where his burger took a stand. The heat creeps up at just the right measure and lends a diabolical spiciness. At first I was thrown off, but each bite made me more and more of a believer in this chef's choices. By the time I'd finished it I was already fashioning the good things I would write about it. Of course, now that it's off the menu my review is a bit of a historical document.

So the moral of all of this is despite its apparent ubiquity, our beloved burger still needs our support. Spoonful is a restaurant worth your attention even without a burger on the menu, but I sure wouldn't be sorry if Calderon's creation made a reappearance.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

Juicy Lucy

735 S Figueroa St., Los Angeles CA 90017 (map); 213-680-2881; thejuicylucy.com
Cooking Method: Griddled
Short Order: Another entry in the upscale casual "concept" burger market misses the mark
Want Fries with That? No thanks; sad, undercooked spuds
Price: The Juicy Lucy, $10; regular fries, $3; smothered fires, $4

It was only a matter of time. The rush on concept burger restaurants has smashed, Japanified, shrunk down, over-topped, and undersized patties all over the country. Now Los Angeles finds itself home to the Juicy Lucy burger concept restaurant. It's called, quite simply, Juicy Lucy, and is the brainchild of chef Paul Shoemaker. Shoemaker made a bit of a name for himself with the now defunct Savory Malibu. That said, Shoemaker can feel more like a brand than an actual chef. His bio on the Juicy Lucy site calls him "an innovator and a visionary in the culinary world who has built his name on his creative interpretations of what makes a good meal, using artistic know-how and fresh ingredients." Ok, sure—so why the magic trick burger?

For those of you who don't know (I'm assuming very few, but bear with me), the Juicy Lucy (also called the Jucy Lucy) is a style of burger that stuffs cheese into the patty. Minneapolis seems to have a special affinity for them as our esteemed Adam Kuban broke down in his cheeseburger styles post, and as former correspondent Daniel Zemans covered in his review of two famous Ju(i)cy Lucy joints. Shoemaker has staked his burger restaurant's future on Angelenos loving the Juicy Lucy as much as people from the Twin Cities.

The first location (in what is clearly a shot at building a chain) is in the soul-stealing food court/shopping mall 7th at Fig. The food court area, called Taste, has a Brave New World vibe that I can't imagine anyone actually enjoying, but then again I dislike malls as a rule. If you're stuck in an office building all day perhaps an easy lunch and some errand shopping isn't something to find fault with, but the food should at least be good. Sadly, Juicy Lucy isn't.

The construction process of Juicy Lucy's signature burger (there are other burger options) filled me with hope. The patty—about six ounces, I'd estimate—gets griddled up on a nice looking flattop as does the bun. The problems here are the component parts.

The bun is an embarrassingly large brioche bun that is exactly what the name implies: flaky, dry, and ill-suited to a burger. The toppings of lettuce, tomato, and pickle aren't so much off as they are overdone. The wholly unnecessary slathering of aioli makes you feel like a bad person for consuming it. Oh, and the towering construction of this burger is such that you wonder what jaw-unhinging reptilian mouth it was made for.

Of course, any Juicy Lucy burger should be measured primarily on the patty, and this is what turned me off most about this burger. The beef itself didn't betray any proper browning (the griddle temp was probably too low) and it lacked any distinct seasoning. It had that refrigerator burn taste of commercial beef. Add to this a surprisingly uncheesy center and it's a wonder how they get repeat customers, particularly considering the burger alone will run you $10.

Add to that a $3 order of fries and it's a $13 burger and fries plate that you carry to a cafeteria table yourself. My fries came out undercooked, which made them next to inedible. I'm not sure they would have been a creditable effort had they stayed in the oil a little longer, but they certainly weren't helped with the smothering of mole and pork belly ($4) that I tried as well.

It's a not a given that a new burger concept has to go this wrong. There's so much information about how to put together a solid burger (hello, Burger Lab) that I wonder if the trick pony is the problem. If Shoemaker steers his operation toward the basic principle his bio claims, creative interpretations of what makes a good meal, he might still have a shot at making room for himself at the burger concept dinner table. As of now, there's no room for his Juicy Lucy at mine.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

Weiland Brewery

400 E 1st Street, Los Angeles 90012 (map); 213-680-2881; weilandbrewery.net/WBR
Cooking Method: Griddled
Short Order: This standard American bistro makes a standard cheeseburger that is just ok
Want Fries with That? Yes; I tried both with and without garlic and there's no bad choice
Price: Classic Beef Burger (two toppings and fries), $8.95

From a reviewer's perspective, the most challenging burgers to discuss are the mediocre ones. The wan, dessicated, hockey puck patties ignite the flames of criticism and the perfectly cooked, juice-filled dream-makers are, by their very nature, inspirations to rhapsody. It's the middle of the pack burgers that make for literary challenge. They are just good, but saying they are just good hardly feels good enough.

Such is my dilemma when talking about the Weiland Brewery. There is nothing particularly offensive about the place (other than the condition of men's rom). In fact, the building was home to a brewhouse for about a century. In LA years that might as well be prehistoric. The sense of history isn't seeping out of the walls, but it has the feel of having been around longer than I, which, for an aging burger reviewer, is somewhat comforting.

The burger offerings are similarly comforting. This is a build-your-own burger menu that, despite a "Kobe" patty, is both straightforward and reasonably priced. I opted for cheddar and grilled onions on mine as that approaches my Platonic ideal of a cheeseburger. I'm not exactly sure why a place that describes itself as an "American bistro" doesn't list American cheese as one of the options, but I'd suspect for most customers that's a minor offense.

The patty you get with the classic beef burger ($8.95) is just a standard chuck and weighs in around six to seven ounces. Along with the two toppings of your choice that come with the burger, Weiland adds a little lettuce, tomato, and pickle on the side. The examples that came out with my burger looked rather great, but I was on a mission for a simple cheese, onion, beef, and bun affair on this particular afternoon. Speaking of the bun, it's a Kaiser-shaped soft bun much like you'd find among the fancier offerings at the supermarket. It's not the perfect choice of a commercial bun, but there are far worse options.

The beef itself was solid and nicely cooked. If anything I'd say they undercooked it a tad, even for my medium rare palate. That said, there was a strong beefy flavor that would have been even better if there was a slightly heavier hand on the salt shaker before it hit the griddle. There was some browning, but I suspect the griddle could be a good bit hotter in the Weiland kitchen. I didn't get any significant crust on the patty. The onions and cheese were fine. I like cheddar, I really do, but I think a patty like this one would have be better served with some tangy American cheese.

Weiland offers you two types of fries with your burger. The standard fries are skinny-cut, skin on spuds and the garlic fries are the same with a little garlic mash mixed in. I tried both and would recommend both. The fries themselves were really nicely cooked. They could have stood a little better draining from the oil, but still, there was nice potato flavor. It may have been my stuffed up head that dulled my palate, but I also enjoyed the very strongly flavored garlic fries as well.

If it isn't clear, I want to make sure you understand that my burger lunch at Weiland Brewery was certainly not a disappointment. The burger and fries were completely acceptable and, further, the $8.95 price tag seems more than fair. That said, it wasn't anything more than acceptable. There's nothing there to excite the burger senses, but it doesn't offend either. It's a place to go when just good is good enough.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

The Morrison

3179 Los Feliz Blvd, Los Angeles CA 90039 (map); 323-667-1839; themorrisonla.com
Cooking Method: Griddled
Short Order: A new Scottish influenced gastropub serves a burger of a uninspired excess
Want Fries with That? Yes; these spuds were the only bright spot in this darkened tavern
Price: Fillet Burger, $15; french fries, $6

One of the newest bar and restaurants to open in Los Feliz ("The Happy"), my sleepy little neighborhood of Los Angeles, is The Morrison. We're trendy enough and upscale enough to make the opening of an upscale gastropub less a happening than simply another thing that happened. Still, I couldn't help but find myself caught in a moment of bated burger breath. The team behind The Morrison is KLK Restaurant Group, the same guys responsible for the creditable (if imperfect) burgers at Stout in Hollywood.

Yes, there's a palpable nightlife feel from Stout that rears its bad dance music head at The Morrison, but that doesn't mean the food has to be bad. Sadly, as I found out at a recent misspent lunch hour, that's exactly what it means at The Morrison. I sampled their disappointingly greasy fish-n-chips, but it was their over-the-top burger that missed the mark by the widest margin. I'm not sure exactly why the folks who've claimed to sample all of the noteworthy burgers in the Los Angeles area before settling on their Stout burger decided to leave all of that research and development behind.

The Morrison's Scottish-themed menu serves one kind of burger, though it seems like a couple of sandwiches to me. They call it the Fillet Burger ($15) because they top the eight ounces of fatty and very good chuck with a slab of filet mignon. Why? I'm thoroughly confounded. This meat-on-top-of-meat ethos isn't unique to The Morrison, but it's such a ham-fisted attempt at excess it feels like a punchline to a bad burger joke. Along with the filet the burger gets a swath of Port Salut cheese, celeriac remoulade, and marrow butter. This is all piled atop an English muffin.

Filet, begone.

You can probably already guess some of the basic mistakes of this construction. First off, the beef to bun/English muffin ratio is woefully off. It's such a heaping portion of meat for such a wee bit of bread that I pulled the filet off mine so as to feel like I was eating some semblance of a decently ratio-ed burger.

The beef itself is rather good, and when I heard that the standard temperature is medium rare I was chuffed that I might fnd a beautifully cooked patty. No such luck. The beef came rare, with a cool the center. Add to that an utterly baffling lack of salt and you've got the makings for burger patty heartbreak.

I don't mind Port Salut as a cheese topping. The Trappist monk-developed cheese is a soft mature one with a mild flavor. I eat it on crackers with some regularity. It's an interesting choice for a burger and not entirely out of place (though be careful as it can liquefy with heat). That said, it did little to save this otherwise bland burger. Neither did the celeriac remoulade, nor the marrow butter (though the latter did amp up the fattiness).

The fries ($6) were the highlight of the meal, though considering the weakness of the burger (and some greasy fried fish), that's not saying so very much. That said, I shouldn't be unfair. These were very good fries that had a nicely crispy exterior and were full of flavor.

The insult to this burger injury is that you're going to find yourself forking over 15 bones for this sub-par burger. That's $15 for just the burger! No fries, just some fancy pickles. Clearly they've cooked themselves into a corner with the filet topping. The price point is probably in no small part due to the food costs of this burger. Alas, forcing the customer to pay for your misplaced excess isn't going make anyone happy. Not even those of us that live in Los Feliz.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

Granville Cafe

121 North San Fernando Boulevard, Burbank CA 91502 (map); 818-848-4726; granvillecafe.com
Cooking Method: Grilled
Short Order: A higher end burger that delivers on the beef, but is undermined by the bun
Want Fries with That? Yes! These skin-on spuds are beautifully balanced
Price: The Village Burger (w/housemade potato chips), $10; add fries, +1

My friends have become wary of recommending new burgers to me. I understand the hesitation; after reviewing burgers here at AHT for (gulp) five years, I have more than a fair (or healthy) share of burgers under my expanding belt. Still, I always encourage a line on a new burger that I might have missed. That's why when a friend sent me a message about the burger at the Granville Cafe I stopped and took notice. "Great," he declared. Could it be? A great burger lying under my nose at this casual upscale eatery in downtown Burbank?

Of course, duty and desire demanded I check it out. I stopped by Granville on a recent Monday night to belly up to the bar, watch the game, and eat a great burger. What I found was something less than great, but still worth a mention.

Granville serves a few burgers on their menu, but it was The Village Burger ($10) that caught my eye. The others were decked out with bacon and blue cheese, which seemed like less the baseline test I was looking for. The Village Burger is as close to a traditional as it gets at Granville. The patty is a healthy eight ounces of "100% All-Natural Angus Beef." It's an odd description from a spot that is so determined to declare its upscale side with gourmet flourishes. It seemed more in line with a fast food joint desperate to claim that their food is actually edible. That said, if there is any greatness to be found in the Granville burger, this is where it's at. The beef is rich and juicy and full of buttery beefiness. The crust is solid, but more importantly, the coarse grind and crumbly texture make for an exceptionally good (dare I say, great) patty.

The toppings come as Roma tomatoes, organic arugula, red onion, and garlic aioli. All are excellent quality and add a pleasantly familiar flavor profile. The garlic aioli is particularly nicely done and adds a hit of tang that I like.

So how can it be that a burger with this many very good component parts falls short of greatness? As is so often the case with the "upscaled" burger, the answer is as simple and tragic as the word sounds: brioche. Granvile makes the same error we see again and again with higher-end burgers: they opt for style-over-substance with the choice of the brioche bun. Yes, it's shiny and beautifully bulbous, but authentic brioche like the one at Granville is so misapplied with respect to texture (crumbly and dry) that it undermines the excellent other parts of this burger. Add to this their little signature rosemary sprig popping out of the top and I'm done like dinner.

The fries are very good and deserve some attention. Granvillle chooses to keep the skin on these nearly perfectly cooked spuds and it's a good choice. The potato flavor gets a nice kick of earthiness from it.

I want to be fair about Granville's burger. It's unquestionably good—the patty is excellent and the toppings are solid. But I just can't tip the scales to greatness if they're using a genuine brioche bun. Greatness demands a degree of flawlessness. The brioche bun is not a fatal flaw when the rest of the burger is as good as this one, but it's flaw nonetheless.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: above, Dennys; others, Damon Gambuto]

Denny's unveiled their limited-time Hobbit-themed menu last November...and, I just found out, stopped serving it this past Sunday. Oops. (What gives; the movie's still playing!) Although the menu was clearly a gimmicky movie tie-in that was more sizzle than steak, I visited Denny's to try the menu's Hobbit-inspired burger for a Reality Check. So, AHT'ers, behold: The Ring Burger ($8.49)

From a creativity standpoint, there isn't much in this burger to ignite the senses, even if you are a Denny's devotee. They already have a bunch of constructed burgers on their regular menu, so a multi-topping burger offering is nothing new. That said, the particulars of The Ring Burger are actually sort of interesting. They put their standard patty on a cheddar bun and top it with abandon. It comes standard with lettuce, tomato, onion, pickle, pepper Jack cheese, bacon, sautéed mushrooms, and mayo. It shows up with—you guessed it—onion rings on top.

I was surprised to find that there was a lot redeeming about this burger. To be sure, the standard chain restaurant complaints apply: overcooked and under-seasoned patty. But they managed to pack the meat loosely enough to avoid the hockey puck texture that's so often in evidence in these kinds of joints. The toppings came together nicely as well; the pepper Jack cheese was plenty melty and the mushrooms added a nice earthiness. The rest of the veggies were completely solid. The most interesting addition was the squishy cheddar bun. It had a nice texture that was just a tad more substantive than a traditional commercial bun without losing sponginess. While there wasn't much (if any) juice to speak of from the patty, the mayo replaced the missing fat.

The fries aren't Ring Burger-specific, so you've probably tried them somewhere along the line. They're cut like steak fries with a bit of a krinkle. This technique is really clever—it allows for more surface area to crisp, which balances well with the creamy potato interior.

I also tried the Radagast's Red Velvet Pancake Puppies ($2) because I have an unhealthy attraction to food coloring and pancakes. They're deep-fried pancake balls with little white chocolate chip centers. They're served with a side of syrup and cream cheese icing for dipping. This is straight-up State Fair food, enjoyable insofar as you are excited at the basic excess of the eating enterprise put before you. Apparently I was. I ate them all despite their under-cooked centers.

There may indeed exist one burger to rule them all, but I'm pretty certain that it's not Denny's Ring Burger. That said, this gimmicky burger-as-movie-tie-in is actually not that bad.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

Hyperion Public

2538 Hyperion Avenue, Los Angeles CA 90027 (map); 323-761-6440; hyperionpublic.com
Cooking Method: Grilled
Short Order: This neighborhood pub serves up a delicious, if cheffy burger
Want Fries with That? Yes! These skin-on spuds are beautifully balanced
Price: Burger w/fries, $14

Happy New Year, AHT'ers! I hope that you, like me, enjoyed a pleasant holiday break that was filled with family, friends, and burgers. The first two are always a treat; the burgers on the other hand can be less consistent. So it came as a New Year's treat to find a new pub in my neighborhood had opened (if softly) and is serving up some creditable burgers.

The man behind the attractive new spot Hyperion Public, Paddy Aubrey, comes from a catering background. Normally I raise an eyebrow at a caterer going brick and mortar since the relentless demands of a restaurant kitchen can often disable even a gifted party chef, but judging from the quality and consistency of the food that's coming out of his kitchen, I think Aubrey has just been biding his time on the catering circuit. I recently stopped by during the extended soft open period for a simple lunch and found a complex and satisfying burger that I'd wager is going to get even better.

The feel of Hyperion Public is casual, but that doesn't mean it's without a distinct appeal. The main dining area has an attractive classic pub feel, but the "hidden" back bar is a dark and sexy little room with a pressed tin ceiling and loads of style. I settled into a table in the dining room (the bar seems to be a night time feature), but I look forward to an adult beverage in the back sometime soon.

When I first read the menu's description of Aubrey's burger ($14), I assumed it would be a muddled mess. It reads like a chef-plosion of self-conscious cookery. The Angus patty (about seven ounces of Niman Ranch chuck) is topped with bacon (also Niman), cheddar and Jack cheeses, a finely chopped mushroom concoction, braised onions, chopped lettuce (tossed with a balsamic dressing), and tomato. All of this comes on a burger bun from the nearby Village Bakery.

"Too much!" I thought. Upon its arrival at my table the look of this piled-high beast gave me little hope. "It's a really good burger," said my charming server Christina. She seemed to sense my apprehension.

Looks and prejudices can be deceiving. The first bite was an explosion of flavor—the good kind. Fats and acids danced with salt and pepper atop a patty that managed to shine through all of the toppings. The beef itself, beautifully charred and still juicy, was delightful in its flavor and construction. Aubrey chooses to form his patties thin like a drive-in burger, which makes for a fantastic, crumbly texture.

The rest of the burger was mostly successful. The blended cheeses had the tang of the cheddar and the proper melt of the Jack. The mushroom and onion made their own statement, but it came in the form of sweet and rich undertones rather than punch-you-in-the-snout earthiness. The lettuce and tomato were a salad unto themselves and, to be honest, could have been toned down a bit, but they still added a crunch and acidity that worked. The bun had a light toasting and a subtle flavor in its spongy appeal that suits a burger of this construction. The only misstep for me was the bacon, but a regular reader will know that there's little hope for bacon in my burger-verse. I just think the flavor is too strong for any burger; I'd rather taste the beef. I removed it after a few bites and my burger tasted better for it.

The fries at Hyperion Public aren't wrought with the same degree of complexity as the burger and that's just fine by me. These skin-on spuds are prepared fresh and have the strong potato flavor of steak fries despite being medium cut. They were crispy and satisfying, though not a revelation.

Of course, neighborhood pubs aren't tasked with revealing much of anything. Rather, they're meant to help cover up the inconsistencies and insufficiencies of everyday life. Low light and a lager make the world a more attractive place. That said, the burger at Hyperion Public deserves a spotlight. Aubrey and his team are still working through the kinks of being a new restaurant and that means the menu (perhaps even the burger) will be going through some changes in the coming months. I suspect they'll all be for the better.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

The Black Cat

3909 W. Sunset Blvd., Los Angeles CA 90026 (map); 323-661-6369; theblackcatla.com
Cooking Method: Grilled
Short Order: A posh, new American restaurant serves up a burger with promise
Want Fries with That? Yes! These are excellent spuds
Price: Cheeseburger w/fries, $14

Try as it might, Los Angeles can't hide its age. Certainly the city of lifts and tucks seems to be in perpetual makeover mode, but sometimes the lines of this metropolis are deep set and, thankfully, not going anywhere. One such crease in its history is that of a little night spot in the Silver Lake neighborhood that has a big (if lesser known) place in the history of the gay rights movement. The Black Cat is named after a historic gay bar that was once located in the same building. The pride of Black Cat is born from being the location of the first public demonstrations by lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender protesters. That was way back in 1967, which is two years prior to the most famous LGBT uprising at New York City's Stonewall Inn. The building garnered landmark status in 2008.

Recently the historic space got a rather epic makeover, but the owners of the new Black Cat have kept some of the artifacts of its history front and center. The sign is original and the interior is decorated with some memorabilia that honors the original.

When I stopped by for lunch the other day I found a spanking new restaurant that elegantly pays homage to the past and makes a burger that might have a future.

The Black Cat burger ($14) isn't the most original high-end burger. In fact, it would be fair to say that it's of a type here in Los Angeles. All of the ingredients are high quality and sourced from one of a handful of acceptable purveyors, and—for what I can only assume are aesthetic reasons—they're built with a post-modern architect's aesthetic. That is to say, the aesthetic often comes at the expense of functionality.

Let's start with this last piece of the puzzle because it's one of the few problems with the Black Cat burger and I'd like to get it out of the way. As you can see, a burger this tall resists any reasonable bites despite all your best squeezing efforts. If Black Cat would rebuild its skyscraper of a burger as a low rise, they'd have a real winner on their hands and in mine. Let me explain.

The eight ounces of Creekstone beef isn't some overthought blend of blends, but rather a somewhat straightforward 100 percent chuck grind. The only tweak here is mixing some aged chuck in with the standard fresh ground 80/20. This gives the patty a clean beefiness with just a hint of funk to set it apart. They clearly cook this guy with proper heat, as my medium rare order came out with a fantastic char and a rich pink center. The grind could be a bit coarser, but that's not to suggest that it's anything but beautifully seasoned, properly handled beef.

The bun is the brioche from Rockenwagner, which we've seen again and again around the higher end burger spots in Los Angeles. Yes, it's a bit familiar, but it's also damn good. As I've noted in the past, the Rockenwagner brioche enjoys the advantage of being almost nothing like a genuine brioche. It's a hearty, spongy bun that is really well suited to a substantial patty like this one.

The toppings are all top notch. The veggies snapped with freshness and I enjoyed the addition of the pickle. The pickle is making a comeback on lots of the new burgers in town and I'm certainly ok with it. I enjoy its acidity and crunch, though I'd understand if you ask to keep it off yours. The cheese is a sort of fancy version of the classic American. It has a rich nuttiness for added flavor while not sacrificing a proper melt. The overall experience is that of a classic backyard burger with that added cheffed up appeal.

The fries were also really well put together. Mine came out with a fantastic crispness against a smooth, creamy center. I also tried the housemade potato chips which, while good, weren't the equal of the fries.

Black Cat is still getting its bearings as a restaurant. There was a decided note of concern in the dining room service despite the few tables at lunch and, as of last week, it still had that freshly painted odor. This isn't so much a criticism as an observation. The kinks feel like they'll get worked out, which means the Black Cat feels like a restaurant and burger with a future. I'm glad they've chosen to acknowledge the past as they get there.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

It's amazing to think that it was only four short years ago when I first profiled restaurateur Adam Fleischman and his small, high-end burger spot on La Brea Boulevard. Now his Umami empire has expanded to 14 locations and there are more on the way.

Adam Fleischman at U-Mini.

From the beginning Fleischman had a vision of applying unique burger aesthetic to the fast food model. I can remember him telling me about the ins and outs of his version of, well, In-N-Out, and thinking that his dreams were bold—bold and a decade away. Fleischman's idea of a reasonable timeline for starting a fast food chain is much shorter than mine.

Two weeks ago he opened the first outpost of his fast food operation in the Westwood section of Los Angeles. This one is called U-Mini, but there is talk that the chain will expand under the Umami name. Recently, Fleischman gave me a tour of the new operation. It's unquestionably forward thinking in its design and ordering technology, but what impressed me most were the burgers themselves.

The ordering process at U-Mini is designed for maximum efficiency. I put my order through on the in-store iPad system, but Fleischman has designed the operation so that you place your order and pay all through a custom smartphone app. Place your order, pay up, and they'll let you know when your food is ready. It's a straightforward idea that will make the lunch rush about as rational as it can be.

Here's a photo walk-through of my putting a lunch order in. (Full disclosure: I used one of the U-Mini cashiers as a hand model.)

The first burger I tried was the Vintage Burger ($5.85). Fleischman explained that he wanted to evoke the memory of the classic McDonald's cheeseburger, but use his techniques and quality ingredients to bring it to the next level. That's just what he's done.

The basics are as you'd guess: a five-ounce Umami blend patty, topped with bread and butter pickles, minced onion, mustard, Umami Ketchup, and cheddar on the classic Umami bun (a Portuguese roll that is among the best in the business). Fleischman insists on all of his ingredients being made by his team and all of the Umami restuarants (including U-Mini) grind their meat fresh, in-house every day.

The patty itself is cooked on a beautiful cast iron plancha with the smashing technique that Fleischman developed for the Umami truck. This means that your patty will get a prodigious crust with its medium to medium well center.

Fleischman had mine cooked a bit less than they'll be serving to the public, so that's the reason for rich pink center in the cross-section shot. The word is, you can't request a medium rare through the automated ordering process, but you can make a special request in person.

The flavor profile of the burger is immediately familiar. There's no mistaking that classic McDonald's cheeseburger germline is clear, but the U-Mini version is so much more. The patty is juicy and full of flavor and the pickles and onions add a balance of sweetness and bite. The cheese and bun are exemplary. But the flavor that will send you down memory lane is, in this burger reviewer's humble opinion, the mustard. It adds that little extra acidity that I feel is the key to what we know to be the McDonald's cheeseburger difference.

I also tried the veggie burger ($5.85) on Fleischman's recommendation and, despite my cultivated prejudice to the genre, I found myself beguiled by his earthy, full flavored version. Certainly this isn't a burger for those of you not given to the mushroom, but I found myself halfway through the thing before I took a breath. It's no beef substitute, but I don't think it should be thought of as such. It's a sandwich of its own design that will please the vegetarians that you'll want to bring along to your burger lunch.

The fries ($2.50) are fresh-cut Kennebec potatoes that are instantly the best fresh-cut fast food fry around.

The Umami fries ($2.50) get a dusting of "Umami" seasoning and are earthy and tasty, but I found the standard fries to be a distinguished version of the classic.

I also sampled the shakes ($3.50/$5, small/large) at U-Mini. Recently Umami acquired L.A. Creamery and is richer for it. U-Mini serves nearly perfect shakes in two flavors, Salted Caramel and Milk Chocolate. Treat yourself to a sample of one if you're hesitant. If, like me, you're working on your self-discipline, order both and try mixing them yourself. It's a magical pairing.

I'm so pleased to say I knew Adam when. "When" in this case was over four years ago when he was just building Umami. He reached out to me as a reader of AHT. He asked me to come try out the burger at his new restaurant called Umami Burger. He was, you see, a Serious Eater who had a dream of a different kind of burger served in a different kind of burger restaurant. Now another piece of that dream is a reality—a very tasty reality.

U-Mini

1131 Westwood Blvd., Los Angeles CA 90024 (map)
310-943-8626; umami.com

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

Jerry's Famous Deli

12655 Ventura Blvd., Studio City CA 91604 and 9 other locations (map); 818-980-4245; jerrysfamousdeli.com
Cooking Method: Grilled
Short Order: This deli delivers a just ok diner-style burger that needs some patty help
Want Fries with That? Yes! Get the very tasty fries and slip the rings
Price: Cheeseburger w/fries, $11.95
Notes: The burger could be a stand out if they were willing to spend a little more time and money figuring out a better patty

A meal at Jerry's Famous Deli can seem like a rite of passage in Los Angeles. All roads eventually run through a mediocre meal at one of the behemoth eateries. I say behemoth because a restaurant dedicated to a particular kind of Los Angeles excess: the attempt to be all things to all people. The menu is as vast as the sprawling interiors with everything from the deli standbys like matzoh ball soup and pastrami to spaghetti and meatballs. The years (and undeniable success) since its 1978 opening on Ventura Boulevard in Studio City has led to a veritable one-stop-shop of average offerings.

I can remember when I was first confronted with the menu about 15 years ago. Growing up in the restaurant business meant my eyes went wide with the challenge of keeping all of the various dishes prepped and delivering them with any level quality. A sampling of the outer edges of the menu answered the question: They couldn't do the latter.

Yet to leave Jerry's off my burger review list after all these years seemed an oversight, so I determined to sacrifice a lunch to Jerry's burger in hopes of finding my preconceptions overturned. In some respects, they were.

The burger section of Jerry's menu is relatively modest. I mean, they only offer a hamburger, a veggie burger, a turkey burger, a cheeseburger, a teriyaki burger, a chili burger, a bacon cheddar cheeseburger, a Louisiana burger (Ortega chile is the star), an avocado burger, a salmon burger, an avocado salmon burger, and a teriyaki salmon burger. Ok, I'm being a little heavy-handed about the menu item proliferation problem at Jerry's, but still, I think the fact we are looking at a small corner of a larger menu speaks to my point.

As you'd guess I opted for a straightforward cheeseburger ($11.95) with American cheese, lettuce, tomato, and onion. I was pleased that the server didn't bat an eye when I asked for a half and half order on the fries and rings.

The cheeseburger arrived looking much more appealing than I'd imagined. Had Jerry's done it? Had they surprised me with a quality diner-style burger lurking amid the pastrami, pizza, pasta, and other various and sundry offerings? Sort of.

There was a lot that was very good about the burger. Let's start with the bun. Not only do they make the very canny choice of a large-scale, commercial bakery bun, but they also managed to put a near-perfect toasting on it. The spongy bun had just the right amount of chew from the toasting to add that layer of substance the sizable eight-ounce patty demanded.

Unfortunately, said patty was not the equal of the bun. Commercial beef will always struggle when portioned to eight ounces, but this one had the added problems of being underseasoned and lacking a proper char from the grill.

That said, the toppings were very good. I particularly liked the sort of medium grilling they gave the onions. This is probably worth a whole breakdown from Kenji, but I think there is a literal and figurative sweet spot for grilled onions and these came pretty close to hitting it.

The fries and rings were both golden and attractive, but one stood out. The fast food-style spuds were as good as your going to get from a single-fried, frozen french fry. That isn't a backhanded compliment—I am apt to prefer a frozen (blanched then fried) french fry to a fresh cut one that isn't treated properly (the McDonald's fry versus the In-N-Out fry jumps to mind). The rings weren't in the same zip code in terms of quality. They weren't terrible, but I wouldn't order them again knowing how good the fries are.

It seemed that Jerry's had bested my low expectations. I'm not going to claim this is a burger that you need to go out of your way for, but it hits enough marks to qualify as satisfactory. That said, there is another knock on the Jerry's burger: It ain't cheap. My standard cheeseburger and fries came in at $11.95. Certainly I eat more expensive burgers, but for the level of quality of the ingredients this one feels a bit pricey. In the end, my experience with the burger at Jerry's was better than I'd expected, but still not a stand out. Perhaps that's all a restaurant like this is trying to accomplish.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!