Entries tagged with 'Hamburglar Hadley'
Posted by Adam Kuban, November 6, 2006 at 12:27 PM
Ladies and gentlemen, last week we introduced you to AHT's Matty Jacobs. This week, it's time you got to know "Hamburglar" Hadley Tomicki a little better. Without further ado, let's get Grillin' —Ed.
Name: Hadley "Hamburglar" Tomicki
Location: Los Angeles
Occupation: Editor lataco.com, educator, and actor
How often do you eat burgers?
Less and less it seems these days after opening up to the taco lifestyle, maybe once or twice a month.
Where did you eat your most recent one?
Fatburger on a very classy date, unless you count the Runza I had in Nebraska the other week.
American, cheddar, other?
I like Gruyère, cheddar, even blue cheese. Typically sharp cheeses for me on my burger.
Ketchup or mustard?
Both. But if George W. Bush instituted a draconian one-condiment doctrine, I'd choose the ketchup.
Sesame-seed or plain?
Sesame, please.
Grilled, griddled, or broiled?
Grilled—with lots of char marks.
And how would you like that done, sir?
Medium, possibly medium-rare, if you’ve got a good rep.
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Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, March 18, 2006 at 12:56 PM
Like Ahab chasing his white whale or Quint on the thrashing tail of Jaws, I had been doing my best to track down the elusive burger truck for weeks, having spotted it in my neighborhood one lazy afternoon. Despite my voyages though the neighborhood of West Los Angeles, just a little shy of the swarming 405 freeway, I came up with nothing, the burger truck a fleeting ghost in my life. In Los Angeles, we have more than our share of taco trucks, so this phantom purveyor of transportable burgers seemed an anomaly, a natural progression from south-of-the-border quick cheap eats to the northern cuisine enjoyed the world over.
Thar She Blows!
I pride myself on a healthy lifestyle. In order to bring you the best and brightest of L.A. burgers, I must maintain a good diet and an intense workout regimen. So it was that I awoke one morning and made a quick trip to Vons Supermarket to replenish my supply of Grape Nuts and almond milk. Driving home, I spotted the burger truck on a nearby block. My heart skipped a beat. I dashed to my apartment to snatch my camera and went off again, the sounds of K-Day blasting Tupac in my ears, "I ain’t a killa, but don’t push me ..."
Spotting the truck, still at its drop-off point, I locked onto it and drove forward. As I approached, it must have seen the voracious intent in my eyes, as the driver slammed on the gas and made a break for it. I flipped a fast U-turn in plain view of the local police station, and the pursuit was on. Across Iowa and down Sawtelle, I pursued my prey with thoughts of ground beef on my brain. At one point, an interloping Acura came between us, and I worried I would lose my target. Once that problem disappeared in a few minutes, we hit the busy throughway of Olympic and following the burger truck's suicide left, I was hot on its azz and close enough to catch a phone number on the backside of the truck (right). I placed a call to the confused owner and found out the next stop would be a construction site on Greenfield.
Sure enough, we planted ourselves on the aforementioned street, Martin’s Burgers in front of a half-built house, myself in a red zone with motor running. I approached the kind owner, Martin, just before a rush of hardworking Mexican and Central American fans joined the queue. I placed my order for a cheeseburger, then questioned Martin as to how he developed the idea for the first hamburger truck I’d ever seen.
“I used to work over at Big Joe’s burgers, and I wanted to name my truck Little Joe’s before being told that might be a problem. So I named it after myself, Martin (pronounced Marteen)." Simple enough, now how about that burger?
The Belly and the Beef
Five minutes and $2.50 later, my cheeseburger was in my hands and ready to be devoured in my illegal parking spot. The burger was slightly bigger than medium size, about perfect for a filling lunch. My first bite of Martin’s mobile burger pleasantly surprised me. It was good, great even. A coarse patty with slightly charred ends and gooey American cheese poked out of its white wax wrapper. Very juicy with a charbroiled taste, just enough lettuce and a tasty dollop of mayo had me happy I’d eschewed the Grape Nuts for a burger at 11 a.m. The mayo was perhaps too plenty for some tastes, but the tomato and lettuce toppings and thin layer of cheese mixed well with the nearly hot patty and soft bun. Juice and yummy grease oozed out of the patty, ruining my diet but completing my life. Martin’s burger is much tastier and fulfilling than many I’ve sampled at stands and chains who claim they have "the best burger in town."
Sometimes it’s the thrill of the chase that gets us burger bloodhounds all revved up. In this case, the quarry was just as satisfying. If you can’t find Martin’s Burgers on your block, give them a call at 310-422-9337 and see where he’ll be next. We are yet to arrive at the Pico-Union address Martin’s gives for his burgers, but maybe they are available and just as good over there. We shall soon see!
MARTIN'S BURGERS
Phone: 310-422-9337
Location: Mobile throughout Los Angeles or 924 W. Washington Blvd. 90015
Price: Cheeseburger, $2.50
Short Order: The first burger truck we’ve ever seen and quite tasty at that
Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, December 8, 2005 at 4:00 PM
Despite what Everclear says, Summerland is not just a name on the map, though it still seems like heaven to me. Nestled in a shady nook between Montecito and Carpinteria, for years Summerland slumbered away as a small artists' beach community of quaint houses and inspired decorations. Now, as the rich get richer, Summerland has experienced a boom as everyone else becomes too poor to live in Santa Barbara or anywhere within a 20-mile radius. Today, Summerland is a patchwork of yuppie antiques stores and slowly invading cafés, but many of the village’s treasures remain to this day, including the Sandpiper Liquor Store, the Wild West burgers of the Nugget, the Big Yellow House, and the town’s two tiny burger veterans, Tinker’s and Stacky’s Seaside.
I pulled into Summerland on a hot summer weekend in July, tempted by the sign on a newer restaurant promising Burger Madness Tuesdays. At $3.99 a pop, I had trouble understanding what great deal was afoot, so I turned my attention toward Tinker’s, unable to remember which had the better burgers between it and Stacky’s. Tinker’s is a thin hallway (top right) with a sandy 1950s beach obsession and an outdoor patio. Slinging all sorts of burgertime treats, Tinker’s has quite a few devotees.
Taking my place in line before a gang of pre-pubescent surf rats, the first things to catch my eye were the cute high school girls working the counter (left). Smiling with teeth full of glimmering braces, they were sweet and funny, even allowing me to snap a candid photo or two. I placed my order for a cheeseburger and ordered a plate of mini-burgers for myself and my friend Cody, visiting from Vero Beach, Florida. After a ten-minute wait outside baking in the sun and watching the weekend traffic saunter by, our burgers arrived in nostalgia-inducing red plastic baskets piled high with fries (below).
Unfortunately, the warm fuzzy feeling did not extend toward the burger. Despite a great-looking presentation of glimmering traditional-style burgers, mine was not only less-than-remarkable, and I was sad to discover more than a couple gristly bites that I’d rather not have taken. The grilled bun was a nice touch, but the patty did not hold up, it was noticeably inferior in quality. It also had grilled edges that tasted nicely charred, but the thinness of the meat was also somewhat shady. The sauce (Thousand Island?) and fixings—onion, tomato, lettuce—came correct (above right), but the burger rated about 5 out of 10. The mini burgers (above left) were a tad better, their diminutive size obscuring any inconsistencies in the patty. At more than $6 for a meal, however, it doesn't seem worth it. Upon realizing my follies, I figured that it must be Stacky’s that had the legendary Summerland burgers.
Coming back to Summerland is a treat. With the Nugget (where presidents Clinton and Reagan went for burgers), the place announcing Burger Madness Tuesday, and the expectation set by Stacky’s and a lackluster flavor at Tinker’s, it will be a pleasure to return soon and settle who is slinging the best burger. Until then, I’m recommending Stacky’s. Maybe they can hire these two cute cooks and have the best of both worlds!
TINKER'S BURGERS
Location: 2275 Ortega Hill Road; Summerland CA 93067
Phone: 805-969-1970
Price: $5 burgers
Short Order: Beachside 1950s grill could have better patties, but still high on ambiance and charm. Better burgers in neighborhood worth exploring.
Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, September 22, 2005 at 12:43 PM
Great news! On Monday, September 20, the West Hollywood City Council and Historic Preservation Commission gave Irv's Burgers a Cultural Resource Designation. This important decision means the original burger stand, in place since 1950, will remain intact, a true testament to burger history and the fight the community waged to keep its beloved stand. The only bad news is this does not necessarily protect the Hong family's business, which will rely entirely on the decision of the (hopefully beneveloent) landlord. Technically, Irv’s could still become Irv’s Starbucks, as long as the structure and patio are maintained. Read the entire recommendation in this PDF, and then go get a superior Irv’s burger with those amazing fries. Congratulations Irv’s and West Hollywood!
Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, September 2, 2005 at 1:00 AM
Many people agree that having one less McDonald's is not necessarily a bad thing, but the recent removal of the old school McDonald's at Highland and Sunset in Hollywood is a sad departure of a North American icon. Rather than a standard issue McDeez, this small white hut was a relic from the 1950s, when McDonald's first began. It featured steeple-esque roofing and a gigantic statue-sign of the chain's original mascot, Speedee the Chef, a cuter, simpler precursor to the bad-acid-trip-recalling, HR Pufnstuf rip-offs that now rule McDonaldland (RIP Mac Tonight).
So Speedee, who would glow in neon come nightfall and reveal a questionable lump in his trousers, has been offed, leaving merely a maze of gang graffiti covering his sad remains.
With In-N-Out and even Carl's Jr. as neighbors, I guess this change was inevitable. But we would have rather seen the McDonald's on Hollywood Boulevard—dubbed the most expensive McDonald's in existence, with a giant movie marquee announcing itself but a fairly lackluster interior—removed than this small slice of our hamburger heritage. So it goes sometimes. At least the oldest existing McDonald's still resides somewhere out on Lakewood Boulevard in Downey in South Central and still sports a giant Speedee with that old school burger-stand style.
On the other end of the McDonald's funding universe, I spotted this corporate-style McDonald's in San Diego's downtown recently, blending into the landscape of steel and glass. I kind of like it and have learned as long as we have to have McDonald's, maybe it's preferable to have them buck the cookie-cutter spaces for some ingenuity. We'll always recognize those golden arches from a mile away.
Also, if any readers have any pictures of the passed Sunset–Highland McDonalds, I’d love to see once again what it looked like and share it on AHT.
Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, August 2, 2005 at 10:00 AM
Shortly after undertaking my exploration of Los Angeles's burgers, I heard more and more whispers about Irv's, the classic West Hollywood hamburger stand in constant danger of being turned into yet another redundant chain store, thanks to its precarious month-to-month lease on some prime real estate. As my burger search intensified, so did the pressure to bring the word about Irv's to AHT readers; support is desperately needed for its plight. A surprising plight, considering Irv's shows up on every food critic's top-Angeleno-burger list.
Irv's is one of few remaining Post-WWII California roadside diners that sits along Route 66, that fabled stretch of highway that once ran from the Pacific Ocean through the Southwest to Chicago. There used to be hundreds of joints just like it, quickly dispatching burgers to Cali's erupting car culture. Irv's, dubbed Queen's Burgers in olden times, was the beloved burger of '70s heroes like Cassavettes, Rowlands, Hendrix, Janis, and Mr. Mojo Rising. Linda Ronstadt even featured Irv's on one of her LP covers in her superhottie days (see photo, above right). Check their history on their website, a true testament to Irv's value in this city and nation's heritage.
Today, it is owned by the incredible Hong family, striving to keep their business at Irv's as much as the community is clamoring to keep them. Locals formed a vigilante crew, the Burger Brigade, dedicated to defending Irv's from ubiquitous corporate greed.
Last Saturday, during an action-packed tour I was giving to a visiting Floridian amigo, I swerved from Melrose to Fairfax to Santa Monica, hunting down Irv's, which has been stationed there since 1950. Wading through Saturday-afternoon traffic, I spotted my destination at Sweetzer, realizing I had passed the corner 80 times in the past six months without once spotting Irv's. Upon inspection, I saw that it proudly stands, 55 years of burger history, behind a colorful hand-painted hut, sporting simple patio seating blanketed with homemade roofing.
At the counter, a beautiful, friendly face, illuminated by a bright-pink shirt, popped out from the stand's shallow confines. I was sweetly greeted and asked for my order. With each request and ensuing adjustment, my sweet young order-taker showed a knack for warm-hearted prophecy. "I know you wanted a cheeseburger," she said, noting, "Grilled onions—good for Saturday." Never have I had service with such genuine smiles and spirit. The sugary lass is Sonia Hong (see photo, left), owner of Irv's. She clearly has a genuine passion for serving burgers to her neighborhood fans, evident in the flavor of the eats. She even posed for pictures, something the Apple (Dumplin') Pan Gang didn't seem into (Apple Pan review to come).
When my Irv's cheeseburger hit the easy, breezy tables, I was truly touched by the hand-drawn blue shirt and inscription, "Just for You," on my paper plate (see photo, second row from top). It gave me feelings of specialness I'd never felt before. Sonia has a reputation for customer interaction that goes above and beyond, often knowing intimate details of her burger-, breakfast-, and teriyaki-addicts' lives and hollerin' at 'em by name. Cute, sweet, and funny (sigh). But can she pull a burger bachelor's dream quartet by serving a perfect burger?
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Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, August 1, 2005 at 10:00 AM
Boondocks, Aaron McGruder's highlarious comic strip about the politics and perspectives of a scattering of diminutive soul brothers, recently ran a few strips about McDonald's recruitment of hip-hop fashion designers to revamp employee outfits. The widely circulated Boondocks, in its typically witty, droll style, skewered the restaurant and sporadically continues to do so in its daily strips, most recently decrying McDonald's attempts to push itself as a "lifestyle brand." We're hopeful that AHT readers have had a chance to check out some of this brilliant work. The one above is my personal favorite (click to enlarge).
Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, July 26, 2005 at 12:00 PM
Despite humble origins on the steppes of Mongolia or in Germany, the hamburger as we know it is a distinctly North American phenomenon. The ground beef 'n' bun combo we adore rates with rock n' roll, baseball, apple pie, and gratuitous shopping as one of the true-blue trademarks of the USA.
Having highlighted the burgers of Vietnam, Japan, and Finland, among other international bucks on our beloved site, I was wracked with curiosity over whether there was any place on Earth where hamburgers could not be found. Whether it's a veggie Mickey D's in Mumbai or a grass-fed one-pounder in Buenos Aires, burgers are surely represented in It's a Small World–esque dimensions. The aforementioned chain's aggressive expansion even connotes corporate imperialism to many in the international arena.
But what about Cuba? The defiant land that resists Western imperialism for unfortunate dictatorial communism to the dismay of so many, has nary a commercial enterprise on its tropical pelt. With a U.S.–imposed embargo along with a state financial structure guaranteed to keep most Cubans from venturing into the surrounding world and most private enterprise out, could hamburgers have penetrated the lush natural paradise and decaying colonial hell that slumbers 90 miles below Miami?
With a little research, I learned there are more than 1,000 pizzerias on the island, but according to the University of Washington–Tacoma, "Typical 'American' foods like hamburgers and fries are not common in Cuba." In John T. Edge's instant classic Hamburgers & Fries, the author includes a chapter called "Fidel's Fritas," about the Cuban street food arguably based on our hamburgers. Fritas are a classic native combination of beef and nuts now widely available in the U.S. in Miami. Frita vendors were a way of life in Cuba, at least pre-revolution.
What if I took a "hypothetical" trip to Cuba? What might I find? Landing in Havana, I was whisked into Old Havana, the scene of calamitous revolution, seemingly still occurring; a full-on assault of colonial grandeur from all-sides that is broken, graying, and sagging. A city of infinite beauty with Spanish monuments, cathedrals, and meandering coastlines, dotted with Soviet-era structures, unique homes, and Che murals. It's a wonderland of new faces: beautiful, smooth, and ancient, showcasing the stunning intertwinings of Africa, Spain, Asia, and the Americas.
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Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, July 13, 2005 at 10:00 AM
ARCHIVES > AHT REVIEWS > CALIFORNIA > LOS ANGELES
Seeing as the Fourth of July is the biggest burger-munching day for Americans, I could hardly stand to face it alone. Using the scant wits I could muster up, I employed a scheme certain to get ravishingly gorgeous AHT senior editor Honey P. to Los Angeles for the weekend. Knowing Honey P’s heart to be as deep as the livid pools of amber she refers to as her "eyes," I placed an urgent call to her on behalf of Irv’s Burgers, the legendary West Hollywood burger stand which has been fighting to stay alive amid plans for neighborhood redevelopment. I told Honey P. she must help me help Irv’s, and before I knew it, the kind, sweet soul was westbound from New York City for four wonderful days.
The sad news is that we never made it to Irv's. My search for something to surf on during a flat weekend and her desire to explore L.A.'s farthest reaches kept us too busy. The good news is that Irv's recently won a battle to overturn the designation that would see it demolished, though it's not in the clear yet. However, Honey P. and I did find ourselves at Santa Monica's The Counter, a popular designer diner with a unique Build Your Own Burger concept.
Entering the sleek eatery, with its Emeco chairs, giant open garage door, and photo exhibition of the Dogtown skate days, we were seated immediately by one of the Counter's friendly and gorgeous young waitresses (ours even scribed a smiley face and heart on our bill). Meeting us at our table were small clipboards holding smaller pencils and a checklist of everything a control freak could desire while crafting a perfect burger.
The Counter is no doubt cool, bringing a bevy of families, dates, and coworkers to the old-school-classic-meets-contemporary space. Candles line the doorway, and a long bar sits opposite a roomful of satisfied-looking guests. Browsing the menu, we found a great selection of interesting, adventurous treats to indulge in. Fried dill pickle chips, a cold meatloaf sandwich, PB & J, and something called "taco turkey" bit our interest. But the burger possibilities seemed endless. In addition to its six signature burgers and the build-your-own device, there was burger-in-a-bowl for the carbophobic, mini burgers, shakes and 50-50 onion ring–french fry combos.
We decided to build the burger of our dreams, a challenge given the Counter's seemingly endless combinations. Diners are given a choice of beef, turkey, or veggie in 1/3 pound, 2/3 pound, and 1 pound weights. Ten choices of cheese are available, from Greek feta and Danish blue to horseradish cheddar and herb goat cheese. You can choose four toppings (additional ones are 50¢ each), which range from standards like red onion and lettuce to the exotic (for burgers, anyway), such as dried cranberries, grilled pineapple, and roasted corn and black bean salsa. $1 premium toppings include avocado, fried egg, Black Forest ham, and honey-cured bacon. Next comes the sauce section, with a staggering display of 23, ranging from apricot sauce to peanut to sweet barbecue. Bun choices are a bit more limited: English muffin, honey wheat bun, and the traditional style.
I put together something not too unconventional, a 1/3-pounder on a regular bun with jalapeño Jack, a lettuce blend, roasted red peppers, grilled onions, tomaters, and dill pickles with roasted-garlic aioli. Hot-as-a-firecracker-on-the-Fourth Honey P. put together, on a traditional bun, a 1/3-pounder with grilled onions, sautéed mushrooms, Tillamook cheddar, and the same aioli I chose. (You can see her creation toward the top of this entry.) We went with the 50-50 and refillable Cokes, and soaked in the atmosphere. Honey P. was excited to spot actress Jennifer Elsie Cox, who debuted as Jan in the Brady Bunch Movie. Soon, our 50-50 came. The wispy onion rings topped the standard fries by leaps and bounds.
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Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, July 6, 2005 at 12:36 AM
¡Que lastima pinche bueys! The hardcore burger aficionados at A Hamburger Today are used to suffering slights and jeers for our obsession with all things burger, but hamburger discrimination just reached shocking new heights.
During a recent jaunt through the Mexico City International Airport, an immense travel hub where McDonald's surely holds a presence, Big Brother 'Burglar and I spotted this hateful sign lingering near our gate. It caused me much sadness and consternation, and in the case of big bro, furious anger. Knowing the diverse citizens of Mexico City share our general hankering for hamburgers, we place the blame on a hateful flight administration determined to stamp out burger use.
Whether their fascist plan to rob us of our passion and replace our diets with soylent green will work, we are fighting hard to spread the word that the burger war is bubbling with antiburger propaganda such as this. First they come for our buns, then they come for our burgers—finally, they'll come for us.
¡Viva la hamburguesa!
Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, June 23, 2005 at 11:52 PM
LOS ANGELES > CULVER CITY
Culver City is a subtle stretch of Los Angeles lying low on the West Side, but there's nothing low-key about one of its oldest eateries, Howard's Famous Bacon and Avocado Burgers. The strip mall that eventually grew to surrounded Howard's—a block of dreary businesses that looks more like a series of black-market fronts than the realization of its tenants' entrepreneurial dreams—looks like it wants to keep a low profile. No such luck, however: Howard's Circus Circus–style sign is a beacon of flashing lightbulbs and screaming colored letters announcing itself to Sepulveda traffic far and wide.
Dating to 1971, Howard's claims to be the first to have dressed a burger in that celestial combination of bacon and avocado that now makes a mint for chains such as Carl's Jr. We're glad Howard's introduced these toppings to our beloved all-beef patties, but I had serious doubts as to whether it was worth recommending. Still, something had kept it there for more than 30 years good and bad times, and I needed to find out what it was.
I had been to Howard's Famous shortly after moving back to Los Angeles and long before joining the AHT staff. Sad to say, I was not impressed by the old man at the time. My burger's beef patty looked disturbingly like a veggie burger, and, truth be told, even the initial excitement of avocado and bacon wore thin. The divine green fruit was sparse, and the bacon was limp and flavorless. Despite this bad experience, I decided to give Howard's another try in the name of hamburger journalism and, of course, as a service to our readers.
Stumbling into Howard's, I was taken with the nostalgic charm of its surroundings. L.A. used to be quite a different monster, and I'm sure Howard's was once a perfect fit in the more rural Culver of the long-gone Beach Blanket Bingo era. Now, a rustier vibe pervades, that of a lost seaside shanty in slow collapse, left inland by a shrinking sea. It seemed I was the only visitor that evening, with the movie posters on the wall and the hand-painted menu—delightful beyond belief—my sole sources of companionship.
I ordered a quarter-pound burger with cheese, slumped into one of the booths, and took in the old-timey digs with a radio-broadcast NBA game as my soundtrack. Howard's has many options, from hot dogs, turkey burgers, and patty melts to tacos and chili, all topped or filled with as much avocado and bacon as your veins can stand. Burger-topping options are egg, chili, and extra avocado or bacon. Onion rings and thickly cut fries are on the menu as sides. Keeping an eye on the grill, I noticed the patty placed on it looked to be of the generic frozen variety.
As the sun started to sink, though, the joint picked up. First came a work-weary lady ordering burgers to go, followed by some of L.A.'s finest, um, security guards. By the time an Asian b-boy strode in, my order was up. Grabbing it from the counter, I was amazed by its appetizing appearance. Weighty and freshly topped, it was not the puny excuse for a manwich I remembered from the last time I visited.
The taste of this cheeseburger defied my expectations. It was hot and soft, a subtle salad dressing mingling with the cheese on the bottom bun, providing that gooey mess that I love. The tomato and lettuce toppings were fresh, and, overall, the burger was hearty and scrumptious. The beef patty was still not anything to go out of your way for; it was flat, gray, thin and only a slight upgrade from a McDonald's patty. But the silky, ripe avocado and crisp bacon were there in spades, making for a unique and tasty burger. It exhibits good orchestration as far as toppings go, but the sandwich would benefit from pickle or onion for an extra note in the medley of tastes. The bun, not all that special looking, wins points for being soft yet firm and easily chewed. This Howard's cheeseburger was bun and lettuce above the first one I'd tried some months back.
Howard's Famous Bacon and Avocado Burgers wins points for a fun experience, but it's more McDonald's-gone-SoCal than a great revelation in hamburgerdom. The burger might be inconsistent, but there's something enjoyable about being the restaurant's old-school environs, which evoke a more innocent time without the Happy Days theatrics of Fatburger and In-N-Out. And after this second round of Howard's, I'm tempted to say it won't be the last time I get a hankering for all these great tastes that taste great together. Still, the place will have to fight hard to maintain its game amidst such mediocrity. The concept is golden, but the execution is bronze. Maybe Howard's could keep the sign and update the burger?
HOWARD'S FAMOUS BACON AND AVOCADO BURGERS
Location: 11127 Venice Blvd. (at Sepulveda), Culver City, CA 11127
Phone: 310-838-9111
Cost: Quarter-pound burger, $3.05; half-pound, $4.45
Short Order: Crazy atmosphere yields favorite ingredients on an inconsistent burger
Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, June 8, 2005 at 2:15 AM
SANTA BARBARA, CALIFORNIA
Ninety miles north, Santa Barbara is Los Angeles's favorite weekend retreat; a red-adobe-tiled sliver of Spanish colonial buildings, emerald mountains, and sandy coves. Among the matchless Mexican food, epic hiking, and good surfing, there are a few great burgers hiding. This weekend, we traveled up the California coast to visit one that has been overlooked by time and taste buds.
Plenty of the Inland expatriates who reign in Santa Barbara, feigning local status after a four-year stumble through UCSB, like to run around proclaiming the burgers at The Habit are the best in town. I had The Habit's burgers at the popular State Street location a year ago but was not so impressed. (Still, I'll revisit The Habit now that A Hamburger Today guides my eating regimen.)
True Santa Barbara locals, however, know what Char West is capable of. There was a time when this shack held burger dominance in SB, with a few locations dotting the picturesque municipality and providing tasty char-grilled hamburgers, thick fries, and even thicker shakes. Then came a sad day; these beef-slinging shops started shutting down. We are blessed, though, that a hidden outpost still remains on the city's historic Stearns Wharf, which is tourist-crammed in summer and barren in winter. I believe Char West still has Santa Barbara's best hamburgers, cheeseburgers, and double burgers.
Char West clings to the wharf, lonely save for occasional day-trippers or die-hard fans making their way to the middle of the ocean. The shack's dramatic setting puts it in first-place for "Burger with the Best View Award," lingering low above the waters of the dark-blue Pacific. After a tiring day of ducking bullets and surfing the death-defying waters of gritty south-central Montecito, AHT drove over the rickety wooden boards that form the wharf, past a plethora of travelin' company from the Midwest, local fisherman casting their rods into the drink below, and lovers taking in sweeping coastal views.
As a longtime fan of Char West, whose decor features a wall-mounted harpoon, I knew to skip such menu options as clam chowder and fish and chips and to go right to the cheeseburger, which is what it's all about here. Sharing an outside table with an uncommonly mellow seagull, I was soon lost in thought, watching nearby sailboats bob in the bay. Seven minutes later, my cheeseburger was ready, straight from the char-fired grill. A plump sandwich with American cheese atop tomato, pickle, shredded lettuce, and a special sauce that tastes a little like Thousand Island but which is thicker and less tangy, the cheeseburger is wrapped in simple white paper and sports a nondescript but decent bun.
Biting into the Char West cheeseburger is awesome: A warm patty with slightly crispy sides contrasts with the cool lettuce and sauce; along with the other understated toppings, neither lettuce nor sauce overpowers the meat, instead doing their intended job of backing things up and providing a nice balance. The meat is the center of attention, its thin but delightfully dense span giving a mouthful of flavor and complemented by a just-slightly noticeable kiss from the charcoal grill. Char West almost has a more rugged In-N-Out feel, with fresh ingredients and a solid old-school patty. Like most things in Santa Barbara, though, it is more expensive.
I could easily eat two of these savory and delectable burgers*. However, like feeding the sea birds that sometimes gather around your table, eyeing your ground-beef prize with psychotic eyes, it is not recommended.
CHAR WEST
Location On Stearns Wharf, Santa Barbara. (Start at the end of State Street at Cabrillo Blvd., and keep going toward Hawaii, onto the wharf, past the dolphin fountain, for parking.)
Phone: None listed
Cost: Hamburger, $3.55; cheeseburger, $3.75
Short Order: Current titleholder of Burger with the Best View Award
* Thankfully I didn't, which allowed me to scarf some surprise sliders served at the Brad Pitt-stalking-paparazzi-saturated Casa Del Mar Hotel, at its party for tapas and Spanish wine in Santa Monica that night. Hmmmm, right after Tiny Hamburger Week. Coincidence?
Large photo at top and aerial photo of wharf from SantaBarbara.com
Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, May 27, 2005 at 12:00 PM
LOS ANGELES
On your typical good day in SoCal, shortly after you take another sip of the potion and hit the three-wheel motion and just prior to your late-night sighting of the Goodyear blimp bigging you up in lights, you're gonna hit Fatburger. Say around 2 a.m.*, with pager still blowin' up.
It's always been between this big bad boy and In-n-Out here in Cali, but for some reason Fatburger lost the PR war after a glorious run in the long-gone '80s. Back then, even emerging national rap superstars the Beastie Boys recognized it as the best option out west in absence of their beloved White Castle.
Now, in its 50th year, Fatburger still has true blue fans who won't accept anything else. Still, the place rarely gets the love it deserves. Maybe it's been out word-of-mouthed by devotees of the competition. Maybe its rapid franchising into markets as far as Jersey City and Clearwater, Florida, has given customers the feeling that Fatburger's quality was a thing of the past.
That's a true shame given the quality and value found at this phat chain. Not to mention the copious quantities of love at Fatburger. The food is imbued with nostalgic good vibes—like a jar of Skippy run through with Mom's butter knife. Clean, service oriented, and chock-a-block with knickknacks, black-and-white photos of Ray and the Godfather of Soul, and rollicking '50s tunes from the glowing jukebox, Fatburger is a vision in neon. You almost picture Gidget and her friends sucking down thick milkshakes and engaging in wholesome good times before the next longboarding session. Although, we do have to admit we've seen some dodgy Fatburger locations where amped-up thugs were not having a good day.
No such dodginess was in evidence the other night when the AHT team, with fresh objective tastebuds at the ready, visited the Fatburger on Wilshire Boulevard in tony Brentwood to sink our teeth into the restaurant's famed sandwich. Despite the Fox News report blaring away on one of the numerous TV sets, we were not only able to hold our meal down, we came away aggressively in favor of a "back to Fatburger" movement. The meal was that good.
Unlike the misleading experience we had while attending the Neverending Story when we were 8, Fatburgers are indeed fat. There are options to have either the 1/3-lb. Fatburger or the bigger 1/2-lb. Kingburger and even double up on meat, cheese, or anything else.
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Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, May 27, 2005 at 11:30 AM
LOS ANGELES
Look, I ain't no smiling Grimace, shuckin' 'n' jivin' and bowing down to Ronald's every whim. I'm the 'Burglar, baby, the bad-boy of Burgerland! I'll steal your burgers, I'll mislead your Fry Kids, and I'll pimp-slap Birdie into next week. Ever wonder why Mayor McCheese or my snitch-azz partner Captain Crook disappeared? When A Hamburger Today talked Tiny Burger Week, first I resisted, then I protested, and finally I fought back! I decided to go to Fatburger, where the burgers come huge. If I'm facing five to 20 on burger theft, it's gotta be worth it. Stay tuned ...
Oh, and one more thing—that's not orange drink you're sipping. Robble robble!
Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, May 24, 2005 at 11:00 AM
LOS ANGELES
Angelenos who enjoy the early morning, bathroom-centric genius of Howard Stern, the markedly less-than-genius musings of Frosty, Heidi, and Frank (at least they crack themselves up), and the hardcore butch feminism of a perceptibly burger-inhaling Tom Leykis surely love what KLSX 97.1 FM is feeding them.
For the rest of you who shun the King of All Media's "Celebrity Game with Mike Walker" and who reserve your modesty on "Flash Fridays," KLSX is preparing for an invasion of the burger kind. Register now for Malibu Dan's Fatburger Friday Office Invasion. Lucky winners, of which there have been eight to date, watch helplessly and hungrily as Big Mike and the Fatburger crew bust their way into the winner's office, sporting hamburger-heavy lunches for 14 lucky coworkers.
Force feeding your peers with ground cow, fries, and ice-cream shakes with the help of Big Mike or Malibu Dan, or whoever the hell, is sure to bring you instant popularity among your esteemed colleagues, with the exception of that assistant who complains about being fat then always eats the most cake at those unavoidable office birthday parties. Seeing as we love the juicy largeness of a Rubenesque Fatburger, we only hope the bossman will turn a blind eye to our greasy fingers and drooling mouths when our sweatshop, er, office, gets the call.
Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, May 19, 2005 at 7:30 AM
What happens when your semisuccessful fast-food chain has its reputation tarnished by claims of a severed digit found in its cuisine? You start giving away the store, of course, and praying that you'll get your customers back. We all probably agree that the best things in life are free, or enhanced by drugs or alcohol. Well, Wendy's, prestigious promoters of the square burger patty, met us halfway.
When Las Vegas' sneaky and alliterative Anna Ayala snuck the tip of a friend's finger into her bowl of chili, Wendy's saw its profits and popularity plummet while the woman, oft involved in odd litigations throughout her 39 years, claimed she bit into the tip unaware. As a thank you to its loyal customers for sticking by the chain, the defamed store went on a giveaway tear that would make Crazy Eddie question its loss-leading promotion.
Free Frosties! That's right. Apparently, anyone coming to any Wendy's this past weekend was allowed unlimited amounts of this delicious frozen dessert with no purchase required. Having given away more than 10 million Frosties May 13–15, and with criminal charges being filed against Ms. Ayala for attempted grand theft, Wendy's seeks to bring closure to this unfortunate and nasty incident. AHT wishes Wendy's luck and gives Ms. Ayala the finger!
No word yet, however, on whether Sweden's Astrid Lindgren ever considered legal action against Wendy's for the strong resemblance the chain's mascot shares with her creation, Pippi Longstocking.
Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, May 18, 2005 at 11:00 AM
LOS ANGELES
From the window to the wall to more unmentionable regions of the universe, this is truly what a hamburger is all about. If you grew up in California, you probably remember that magic moment when you first drove up to the long queue at In-N-Out Burger and discovered the regional chain's superior never-frozen, never-precooked hamburgers topped with the freshest produce. And those fries, oh lawdavmercy, those fries. Cut from giant potatoes right in front of your face, they're best washed down with a thick shake made with real chocolate ice cream. One of my earliest memories was of a driver who had rearranged his free In-N-Out Burger sticker to read "Inner Butt Urge," much to the amusement of the Hamburglar clan.
If you're not from around these parts, you're probably tired of hearing your West Coast homies rave about this place, but we will stand by it. Having "done" both coasts, I can honestly tell you Blue 9 Burger was doing a pretty excellent job of recreating these burgers, but as the Whack Eyed Peas would ask about the place these days, "Where is the love?" In place of Blue 9's "troubled teens messily running our store" vibe, In-N-Out is a vision straight out of Happy Days. An immaculate white-walled, red-tiled castle filled with cheerful servers in clean uniforms, with booths inside and original counter stools outside, In-N-Out is more than a restaurant, with its secret menu and legions of devotees, it is a culture unto itself.
Under pressure for an In-N-Out review from West Coast readers and from this site's editor in chief, my homie "El Loco CBro" and I sped down Sunset Boulevard toward the Hollywood location with eager anticipation and great faith. We pulled into the parking lot, and, under signage glowing brightly against the deep-blue twilight sky, stepped over a man sleeping on the sidewalk, and entered the main attraction. A gregarious group of empty-teen and after-work bellies had gathered, either sinking teeth into a sumptuous repast or impatiently shifting in line.
In-N-Out not only boasts supreme quality, it's "hella cheap," as our Nor Cal brothers might say. Eschewing the almost mandatory Double-Double, CBro and I just went for the straight cheeseburgers, making sure to order grilled onions. I took my fries "well-done" while he went with the usual lightly fried suspects. Our attractive servers got to work, slicing the 'taters and grilling the beef. In a little more than five minutes, it was burgertime, bitches!
Founded in 1948 in Baldwin Park, California, In-N-Out was the first drive-thru hamburger stand in the country, so we won’t quarrel with their style. Nonetheless, I’m always a bit squeamish about hamburgers whose "toppings" are not on top, as is the case here. Not sweating the technique, though, we dove into our burger bliss, pleased as always with the experience. The hot 100 percent pure-beef (free of fillers, additives, and preservatives) is made from only chucks, front ribs, and shoulder and is divine, perfectly cooked to give just a hint of the grill. The veggies are not only fresh, they taste it, bursting in your mouth with crispness and flavor. A light dressing of secret sauce gives just a soupçon of tang, blending greatly with the freshly baked buns. Taken as a whole, it is the incarnation of Wimpy's dreams, his perfect burger (and ours). Not oversized, the burgers fit perfectly in your hand and can be neatly devoured in a few bites, always leaving you with a hankering for just one more.
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Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, May 17, 2005 at 3:53 PM
LOS ANGELES
Speeding toward Original Tommy's at Beverly and Rampart at 3 a.m. early Sunday morning, the first thing my drinkin', dining, 'n' driving companion and I spotted was not the blaring red signs famous across Los Angeles for marking the location of the city's favorite chiliburgers, nor the parking-lot shack that started it all 54 years ago. What really caught our eye was the ring of about forty cops standing in the neighboring lot, as more and more squad cars pulled up for support. Had the Crips and Bloods backed out of their truce? Was Robert Downey Jr. on the loose and jonesing again? Had the Governator flipped a circuit and gotten stuck on kill mode?
Tommy's considerable legend began when first-generation Greek-American Tommy Koulax opened his shop in 1946 and praise spread through word of mouth, as it does still does today, as Tommy's does not advertise. Known for its legion of imitators and for the hamburger-eating contest it supports at USC, it is recommended that you ward off charlatans using and abusing the Tommy's name by looking for the shack depicted on the red sign. This location, the first of 27 Tommy's, serves more than 15,000 hungry burger lovers a week, according to well, Tommy's.
We took our place in the considerable line, made up completely of well-dressed and even-better coiffed Latino twenty-somethings (think Y Tu Mama También, not American Me) and the gorgeously put-together chicas who love them. Three thugged-out and tattooed security guards clung tight to one another in anticipation of some skulls to bust, buoyed by the presence of the entire LAPD next door.
As the line speedily snaked along, the parking lot provided more than enough scenery to take in, with a collection of bangers and bros getting together to talk cars, girls, and burgers. Plus, as you get closer to the heat of the grill, you can watch the burgers a-cookin' by the white-uniformed staff. Although faint shit-talking was detected, possibly spawned by the length of the line or the presence of an out-of-favor army of Rampart cops, the love emanating from the kitchen was palpable. Once our five-minute wait was up, the burgers were our only point of focus. Stepping up to the repetitive-motion-stressed cooks, we made our order, which was met instantaneously by our delectable chili cheeseburgers being plopped in our hands for under $2 a pop. Could they be using the new HyperActive Bob technology or are they just "that damn on it" at Tommy's? We can only wonder.
The strategy behind eating one of Tommy's delicious burgers after a night of copious liquor, quaffed to the tune of an 18-piece Brazilian band at Little Pedro's Blue Bongo, is questionable for sure. Even more so when that sucker is unwrapped from its thin wax paper at the chairless counters that dominate Tommy's. Chili gets everywhere. Yes, everywhere. The bite is what matters though, and Tommy's does not disappoint. Although the patty and bun look a little more Ronald than Angus, the taste is simultaneously comforting and new, warm chili contrasting brilliantly with the fresh toppings of a double-cheese, pickle, onion, and beefsteak tomato.
Sometimes a messy burger is in order, and the generous amount of oozing chili intermingled with the soft patty and melted cheese at Tommy's make for an unrivaled taste combination that is both delicious and nutritious—OK, well, one out of two ain't bad. As the burger quickly soaked up a stomach of vodka and Newcastle, I was tempted to go for a second, something my stomach and the other passenger in the car would undoubtedly regret.
Scarfing down the last bites, it became apparent what some of the adjacent fuss was about. Although 50-plus cops seems to be an overwhelming response to one skinheaded gangbanger, it was one more dude off the streets and a lesson to those who seek to menace hamburger lovers the world over. Overlooking Rampart one last time, my partner-in-crime jumped behind the wheel of his low-key Nissan Maxima and we headed West toward a new horizon, a new day, and new burgers.
ORIGINAL TOMMY'S
Location: 2575 West Beverly Blvd., Los Angeles CA
Phone: 213-389-9060
Photos by Colin "El Gillipollo Loco" Browne
Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, May 9, 2005 at 6:02 PM
Two things continue to make this country what it is: hamburgers and litigation. However, we agree with our nation's normally befuddled legislators that they are two great tastes that don't necessarily go great together.
Consider this A Hamburger Today's endorsement of the Cheeseburger Bill, currently trying to squeeze its way through the refuse-strewn small intestine of Congress. The Cheeseburger Bill (not to be confused with our nation's 42nd president) seeks to curb obesity lawsuits against fast-food restaurants.
Passing the bill, officially known as the Personal Responsibility in Food Consumption Act, would be welcome news for McDonald's, one of the only companies so far to have seen (unsuccessful) legal action taken against its restaurants. However, that particular case is down but not completely out, and, combined with attacks from the Morgan Spurlocks
and Eric Schlossers of the world, gives the perception of a wave of defiance spreading toward the quick and delicious junk food that present-day America was built on.
Striving to ensure respect for and fear of the nation's beloved and beleaguered burger, heavy lobbying by the restaurant industry has resulted in more than 20 states taking legislation into account that would reduce obesity suits against restaurants and food manufacturers or would sentence them completely to the fate of the McRib.
Although I'm always on the hunt for the next frivolous lawsuit that's going to enable me to "super size it" for eternity, it's time people take responsibility for and pride in their fast-food overindulgences. If we want to be a nation of fatasses, we should be free to be just that, dammit! With motorized scooters to back us up for long trips through the grocery store. After all, we know what freedom smells like, and it reeks of partially hydrogenated grease and secret sauce. The day we have to sue Grimace and the gang is a day when children weep for an innocence that once was. You're either with us or against us, folks!
For more information on how a bill is passed, please refer to School House Rock.
Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, April 27, 2005 at 3:49 AM
Big Brother is watching you—all to get that Quarter Pounder into your gut a few seconds sooner.
With the advent of ubiquitous surveillance cameras in our lives, it's almost refreshing to see observation technology being put to such delectable use as it is in "HyperActive Bob." Bob is the newest high-tech doohickey from Pittsburgh upstart HyperActive Technologies. Employing rooftop cameras, the system alerts the kitchen when the drive-through is on its way toward a traffic jam, then specifies how much food to prepare.
Currently being tested in Pittsburgh-area Mickey Ds, Taco Bells, and Burger Kings, Bob also seeks to make predictions based on personal and vehicle demographics—whether it be incoming Escalades full of rappers with Big Mac munchies or minivans full of post-AYSO Happy Meal and orange drink fiends with salad-prone chauffeurs.
According to the Associated Press, the technology has been a success with owners, employees, managers, and customers so far, slashing wait and training times dramatically. The company's website states, "HyperActive Bob directly commands kitchen workers, through touch screen interfaces, to produce just the right amount of food at just the right time, ensuring that restaurants never run out of hot, fresh product, while minimizing food waste."
We're all for increasing the efficiency of getting burgers in our gullets as quickly as possible, even if it means yet another situation where profiling by type and invasive technology are utilized in the United States. We're tired of so-called "fast" food restaurants whose inept bungling keep us waiting endlessly for substandard burgers. It's time we use 100 years of industrial know-how for something we can chow on.
Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, April 17, 2005 at 7:16 PM
LOS ANGELES > CULVER CITY
Shit happens. You spend all week elipticizing your ass, stair mastering those calves, and squat-thrusting your pelvis, all so you can enjoy a greasy burger on a Sunday. Waking up and skipping a formal introduction to that cutie you met five hours ago, you bound outside with a hangover-crushing craving for your favorite beef 'n' special-sauce surprise.
What happens next pounds you with the weight of the world's injustices. It appears your No. 1 burger secret is not only low-key; it's actually closed on Sundays! Your preferred spot has gone Christian on you, needing a rest from six divine days of cow-slinging!
Minus the getting lucky and exercise parts, it was this very scenario that had us wandering the streets aimlessly for something to quench our burger lust once we found the doors of West L.A.'s Hearty Deli and Culver's Howard’s Famous closed. Fortunately, we spotted a glorious vision in red-lacquered tabletops and diner stools. Had we magically gone back to the 1950s, when burger joints were spotless and efficient temples for the neighborhood, with gumball machines, paper hats, and playing cards in place of order numbers"
"Best Hamburger in Southern California' —KABC AM 790," shouted the banner for Culver City's Hamburger Habit. We love nothing more than probing the claims of the so-called experts, so with a delectable smell hitting our noses from the parking lot, we stepped inside. Old-school strains of rockabilly shook the sound system, and a steady stream of clean-cut regulars flooded in while we salivated over images of a classic sesame-seed burger high above our heads.
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Posted by Hamburglar Hadley, April 12, 2005 at 12:32 AM
LOS ANGELES
We are not afraid to tackle the most difficult philosophical quandaries at A Hamburger Today. Many prestigious publications, gutter gourmands, and self-anointed food critics* have dubbed the frou-frou burger at Father's Office in Santa Monica the "Best Burger in L.A." Ninja, please! In the birthplace of Carl's Jr.? In the land of Fatburger? On the native soil of In-N-Out and the Apple Pan?!
This so-called "hamburger," which consists of the confounding ingredients of dry-aged sirloin topped with applewood-smoked bacon compote, Maytag blue and gruyere cheeses, caramelized onions, and arugula on a French roll, is certainly delicious. But is it really a hamburger in the truest, bluest, real McCoy sense of the word?
Not saying a creative take on a classic is wrong, but this high-class perversion of an institution so American that a daily dose is required in most states, does not seem worthy of a "Best Of" label in the face of so many great local spins on a traditional favorite.
A burger can be messy, a burger can be bloody, a burger can be giant, a burger can be topped with guacamole, chili and brontosaurus ribs—a burger can be any or all of the above, but it must resemble an actual hamburger and not force us to reach for a French dictionary (compote? Say quoi?) to have honors bestowed upon it.
Despite its delectability, Father's Office's spices and strange combinations of fresh ingredients do not scream "HAMBURGER." To top off the madness, Father's Office even denies you ketchup and mustard. If I wanted restrictions put on my dining choices, fellas, I'd go to Alain Ducasse. This is America damnit! Give me the choice to slather overprocessed tomato paste on my meat or give me death! Still, the meal is over much too fast, leaving you with a hankering for a real greasy standard—and a $14 tab.
Save yourself a trip through the traffic on the 10, and hit up AstroBurger in Hollywood instead. The physical space of Father's Office is like that white-collared weekend warrior who takes his Harley for a drive to the country on the weekend and calls himself a biker. This wood-walled roadhouse is crushed with yuppies; it's usually impossible to find a seat, and the prices are exorbitant.
Still, the wine list (no glasses under $12 when we were there), plus local and Belgian drafts are delicious, the shopping cart full of fries, either sweet or frites, wins serious points for cuteness and taste.
I know many Lost Angels will disagree, but when a burger does not look, smell, or taste like a burger, sorry kids, it ain't a burger. But try it for yourself; there are many I respect who put this one at the top of their lists. And I have been wrong before. Once.
* Ahem, present company excluded, of course...