1850 North Vermont Avenue, Los Angeles CA 90027 (at Russell Avenue; map); 323-667 0062; fred62.com The Short Order: The Jucy Lucy here is not modeled on the famous cheese-stuffed burger at Matt's Bar in Minneapolis but on the burgers at In-N-Out. The Jucy Lucy here, though, is like an In-N-Out burger on steroids. And tastes even better Want Fries with That? They come with, but if they didn't, you could skip them. They're not as crisp or flavorful as they need to be Price: $9.63 for the Jucy Lucy
Fred 62 is named after its owners, both named Fred, both born in, you guessed it, 1962. Back in 1997, designer Fred Sutherland and chef Fred Eric collaborated to create what they call a "retro-kitsch diner" in the burgeoning Los Feliz neighborhood of Los Angles. There is a distinct possibility that such ambitions can result in a trite, tiresome, and contrived restaurant that focuses too much on the kitsch and not enough on the food. Fortunately Fred 62 avoids most of the culinary pitfalls and turns out some inventive twists on classic diner fare.
The decor is an interesting mix of traditional diner trappings (a long counter divides the room, replete with classic soda fountains), along with a cheeky, low-brow slant (the servers all have racing stripes to match those of the leather booths that resemble cars seats). The building is painted in shades of green, orange, and yellow, giving it a rather gaudy and cartoonish look. Like I said, low-brow. Aesthetic misgivings aside, I was here to eat what the menu modestly bills, as "the worlds greatest hamburger sandwich."
I won't keep you in suspense. I don't think it is the world's greatest hamburger, but it is nonetheless very good—certainly one of the best burgers I have had in L.A. The burger in question is called the Jucy Lucy, but it is nothing like the one that has been reported on here at AHT extensively, which is actually filled with cheese before cooking. Fred 62's Jucy Lucy might not be filled with cheese, but it does at least live up to its name.
As part of McDonald's strategy to appeal to local tastes and aesthetics, a Mickey D's in Hacienda Heights, California, which has a large Asian community, has gone all feng shui. Elements include "leather seats, earth tones, bamboo plants, and water trickling down glass panels." Near the counter, eight rows of red tiles appear on the wall (eight is a lucky number, and red symbolizes "good luck, laughter, and prosperity"). [via Jason Perlow]
Ever since Bar Marmont in L.A. changed management, and changed its burger from the Best in the World to just plain old delicious, I've been searching the streets of Hollywood for the next perfect burger. Pretty close is the Kobe Burger at Dusty's on Sunset in Silverlake. I recommend it rare and without the condiments provided on the side.
Amazing!
—Dino
Thanks for the tip, Dino. Good LA intel is always appreciated!
As editor of AHT, I'm ashamed to say I've never been to the Apple Pan, but I've read and heard plenty about the place. Over at Serious Eats, we even have a nice video about general manager Charles Collins and his own 50th anniversary of service there. But today's story in the L.A. Times brings some new, quirky info (at least to me):
It's well-known that you can't get tomato on your burger, but "regulars know you can request an onion slice or even fried onions, when the grill isn't too busy."
The Apple Pan has remained stubbornly old-school in terms of food prep and service: "Soft drinks are still poured in paper cones supported by stainless steel cupholders, in the 1940s lunch-counter way. Over time those bases began to disappear, and about a year ago it looked as if the restaurant would finally have to start using cardboard or plastic cups. 'But then a customer found a bunch of bases for us on EBay,' [owner Martha] Gamble says."
It's a loving portrait of a type of place that is sadly becoming all too rare these days. One that treats its customers and employees with respect (the "newest" kitchen member has been there 17 years) and doesn't try to meddle with a good thing or expand or chain itself out, thereby losing quality.
The Apple Pan, an institution of a burger joint in Los Angeles (covered here on AHT), opened in 1947. For 50 of its 60 years in business, Charles Collins has worked there. Burger documentarian George "Hamburger America" Motz catches up with Mr. Collins as he marks his golden anniversary there.
THE APPLE PAN Location:10801 West Pico Blvd. (at Westwood Blvd.), Los Angeles 90064 Phone: 310-475-3585 Price: $5.75 Short Order: Two classic burgers dating to the '40s still amaze tastebuds with individuality and kick-ass quality in old-school diner digs.
About the filmmaker: George Motz is the burger-mad genius behind our favorite burger movie, Hamburger America. For more from George, visit his website, HamburgerAmerica.com
Posted by Adam Kuban, February 27, 2007 at 2:16 PM
Oh, the stars. They too love the burgers. Who'd have thought "the Queen" (Helen Mirren) was up for a bit of the ol' In-N-Out? In what seems to be a Hollywood tradition, a stand providing the famous California treat was set up at the back of the Vanity Fair Oscar party.
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.
Posted by Adam Kuban, September 7, 2006 at 3:20 PM
A little bitta the ol' In-N-Out for you, Paris? ...
Celebrity Paris Hilton was arrested in Hollywood early on Thursday for suspected drunk driving, but she said the incident had been blown out of proportion and that she may have been speeding to get a late-night burger....
"I had one margarita (and) was starving because I had not eaten all day," she said. "Maybe I was speeding a little bit and I got pulled over. I was just really hungry and I wanted to have an In-N-Out Burger."
Shouldn't she have been speeding to get a Carl's Jr.? ...
Posted by Adam Kuban, September 6, 2006 at 8:30 AM
From an op-ed piece in the Los Angeles Times:
The great taste hasn't changed, but the mystique that inspired our carnivorous cross-valley quests sure has. The earlier, spartan drive-throughs, which once kept us at arm's length, a sheet of glass sealing off the inner sanctum where clean-cut workers frenetically packed the grill with meat patties, has given way to brightly lighted indoor seating no different from the national fast-food chains. The fabled secret menu, for years passed around solely by word of mouth, giving those of us in the know an easy way to separate the true In-N-Out fan — and true Southern Californian — from the wannabes … well, the Web ended all that.
How can we preserve that vanishing sense of wonder while giving proper respect to the important role In-N-Out has played in postwar SoCal culture? An idea came to me a few months back while driving on the 10 Freeway, when I glimpsed a well-worn yellow-arrow sign, bearing a quaint pre-digital clock....
[In-N-Out No. 1] has been closed and gated off since 2004, replaced by a much snazzier restaurant just on the other side of the freeway at the same Francisquito Avenue exit. Next door stands the two-story "In-N-Out University" managerial training center and company store, selling such items as ski caps and beach towels emblazoned with the chain's name.
Company honchos have told the San Gabriel Valley Tribune that they plan to preserve the building, and there was even talk of a museum, but I envision something more — a full-blown In-N-Out shrine.
Went to Joe's Best Burger in Flushing, Queens, NYC, a couple weeks ago to compare its double cheeseburger to In-N-Out's Double Double. New York City-based Joe's has been compared favorably to the California-based chain, with people saying it comes pretty close to the INO formula. Both taste great and are as fresh as you can get for fast-food burgers. But In-N-Out is a little meatier, as seen above. You can get a better idea of the differences and similarities here: Joe's Best Burger Double Cheeseburger In-N-Out Double Double
Relax. In-N-Out isn't going to change with the death of cofounder Esther Snyder. From the Los Angeles Times:
The new head of In-N-Out Burgers said Monday that the venerable restaurant chain would remain in family hands and stay true to its time-tested strategy — a simple menu and slow but steady growth — after the death of company matriarch Esther L. Snyder....
"The general perception in the industry is that it's under-developed — that there could be a lot more of them," said Randall Hiatt, president of Costa Mesa-based consulting firm Fessel International.
The trick, Hiatt said, is to achieve that growth without losing the In-N-Out mystique.
"Because of the way they have restricted growth, it still has that cult kind of buzz," he said. "Like Krispy Kreme had but lost when you started to see them at every gas station."
Esther Snyder, who with her late husband Harry co-founded In-N-Out Burger in Baldwin Park in 1948 and popularized the drive-through window for the fast-food industry, has died. She was 86.
Snyder, who had succeeded her husband and two sons as head of the family business, died Friday, according to an announcement from the company. Neither the cause nor the place of death was announced.
She was an inspiration for all the associates at In-N-Out and for all the people in the community whose lives she touched over the years," Lynsi Martinez, her granddaughter and sole heir, said in a statement.
L.A. CityBeat visits 25 Degrees, the burger joint attached to the recently renovated Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel, and finds that (and I'm paraphrasing here) it is Lestat slurping a milkshake wearing Fonzie's jacket.
As you might expect, the burgers are fairly iconic and superannuated. They start as nine ounces of good sirloin and are cooked on a griddle rather than charbroiled – as they should be, because it preserves those pink and golden juices that ooze out the burger’s sides. They’re served on brioche buns made on the premises, and these are quite fine, their tops resembling a mushroom cap in shape and peanut brittle in color, with a fine sheen.
It’s a mix-and-match proposition. You can choose from 12 different cheeses, both domestic and imported, along with other accompaniments, like fried egg, shiitake mushroom, jalape�os, and arugula. Dipping sauces cost 50 cents each and include horseradish cream, tarragon remoulade, chipotle, and Dijon, just to name a few; you can slab that on your burger too, or save it for the fries. If you’re like me and become paralyzed when faced with too many choices, you can go for one of the two house burgers, so it’s all decided for you.
The name refers to he temperature difference between medium-rare (mmm) and well-done (gargh!).
Here's a killer list we've mentioned on AHT but have never elaborated on. It's Alan Richman's top 20 from his July 2005 story "The 20 Hamburgers You Must Eat Before You Die" in GQ. Do click through to read the entire piece; it quickly made its way onto the Required Reading list at AHT HQ. Bon appétit! ...
1. Sirloin Burger, Le Tub
1100 N Ocean Dr., Hollywood FL 33019 [map]
16. Hamburger & Fries, Burger Joint
700 Haight St., San Francisco CA 94117 [map]
17. Double Bacon Deluxe with Cheese, Red Mill Burgers
Phinney Ridge, 312 N 67th St., Seattle WA 98103 [map]
Interbay, 1613 W Dravus St., Seattle WA 98119 [map]
18. Hamburger, Poag Mahone's Carvery and Ale House
333 S Wells St., Chicago IL 60604 (in the 175 West Jackson Building) [map]
19. Our Famous Burger, Sidetrack Bar and Grill
56 E Cross St., Ypsilanti MI 48198 [map]
AOL Cityguide has done it again. In late March, the good folks there brought you the best burgers in New York. Now they've compiled the "15 Burgers to Try Before You Die" (hmm ... strange echo of Alan Richman's piece in GQ last year, "The 20 Hamburgers You Must Eat Before You Die.") Without further ado, they are ...
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
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.
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!
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.
The Apple Pan in West Los Angeles is as famous as its bones are bare. A simple horse-shoe counter brimming with customers, behind which two cooks and three servers (all long-in-the-tooth, sweet gentleman rocking white paper hats and aprons) scurry like chaps on a mission, its guts are not much to behold. Instead, the effort goes into the few items that dominate the sparse menu, from fruit pies to ham-and-tuna sandwiches to, of course, the famous burgers.
The Apple Pan resides in a charming wood-and-brick house (see photos at top) that faces the Westwood Pavilion like an indie David facing off against corporate Goliath. Stepping inside instantly transports you to the 1950s, with local families enjoying the same awesome burgers and famous pies that they have for generations. It's not the 1950s recreated à la Fatburger or In-N-Out. No, the Apple Pan harks back to a more rural Los Angeles and a time when this location was surrounded by farms and orchards. Despite innumerable offers from developers, the Apple Pan has remained in the same family since its founding in 1947. It is now run by Martha Gamble, whose parents, Alan and Ellen (cute, right?), started the restaurant with an early focus on one of their parents' pie recipes as a star attraction. Today, the Apple Pan is an L.A. institution and serves a hamburger worth coming a great distance for.
Walking into the Apple Pan with my two associates—Mike, a visiting warrior from Swaziland, and Brooks Rosenquist, former New Orleans public school teacher/warrior and current hard rocker—the Pan's every last seat was filled, as usual. The wait died in five minutes, however, and we bellied up to the counter, catching sullen looks from some middle-aged men in the corner who no doubt used to munch here while ditching the high school bell, now seemingly ditching the ball 'n' chain.
Though the seats have too little space for some burger loving butts, it is an honor to sit before the harried staff of the Apple Pan. A lot of people say the servers are gruff, but they are just old school, looking as if they have worked here since they were teenagers, as some sort of Sisyphean punishment to serve hamburgers until the day North Americans have had enough. In other words, they are not about to introduce themselves like "Stacey from Torrance" does at your favorite California Pizza Kitchen location. They average about 70, and you know serving burgers to a bunch of punks and their padres at that age has to suck. Essentially, if it's not on the menu, don't waste anyone's time asking for it.
The Apple Pan busts two famous hamburgers: the Steakburger and the Hickory Burger. Both are amazing, so my crew and I mixed it up with a few of each. Watching the servers in action as they placated and fed normal-looking Angelenos (they exist) helped pass the time fast enough. Mike broke down the significance of the cow in Zulu culture, making us feel a venerated gravity in anticipation of one of Los Angeles's best.
First the fries arrived on teensy paper plates (left) to stave off the salivation, coming thick but with a good balance of lightness and crunch—though not really anything to spazz about. Our waiter, ever the hardcore pro, flipped his Heinz bottle like Tom Cruise in Cocktail, pouring a thick blotch of ketchup all over our plates in a flash, before moving on to the next victim.
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?
Unlike New York City, the East Coast HQ of A Hamburger Today,our West Side hometown Lake Charles, Louisiana, still has an oldies station. And it's Los Angeles's oldies station LA 92.9 on your FM dial that recently named AHT its Website of the Day.
Hamburgers and oldies just seem to go together. Need proof? Think of the nostalgic atmosphere found at Fatburger, Tommy's, and Howard's Famous.
We're honored that LA 92.9 chose us to highlight for its listeners. Thanks, 92.9! And of course, we wouldn't have achieved this recognition without the hard work and detailed writing of our West Coast editor, Hamburglar Hadley. Thanks, HH! If you haven't read all his reviews, click his name and have a gander.
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.
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
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.
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.
LOS ANGELES Attentive readers will have seen the Yahoo! News feed in the left-hand sidebar, just below the strip of photos. Too often the stories that come up on that wire are about profit margins at the big fast-food chains or some football club in Deutschland. But sometimes, stories like this justify the presence of that newsfeed.
In this week's "Counter Intelligence" column, L.A. Weekly's Jonathan Gold highlights pljeskavica:
Pljeskavica is a thin, Balkan hamburger, as big and round as a phonograph record, flavored with salt and onions and peppers and briefly cooked over a hot charcoal fire, a chewy meat patty that still has all its juice. Pljeskavica and its cousins can be found throughout the former Yugoslavia, feeding swarms of Serbian teenagers on a Saturday night or adding ballast to the table at a Dubrovnik café, but the outstanding examples of the breed are generally acknowledged to come from Bosnia-Herzegovina, where the Turkish Muslim influence has insinuated itself as firmly into the kitchens as it has into the culture. Bosnia is where you find the tastiest cevapi, grilled ground-meat capsules that are tucked into bread, the juiciest grilled lamb, the most succulent kebabs. It has been hard to think of Bosnia as much of a food destination in the last decade or so, but reliable people tell me that the charcoal-grilled pljeskavica in Sarajevo is still worth the trip....
Tucked into its sturdy, focaccia-style bun, a steroidal construction that bears the same relationship to a supermarket roll that Barry Bonds' left arm does to the musculature of a ballerina, Aroma's pljeskavica is an awe-inspiring unit of consumption, almost as daunting in its appearance as it is difficult to pronounce. Outside of an El Tepeyac burrito, Oaxacan tlayudas and the kind of tenderloin sandwiches found in some precincts of central Iowa, pljeskavica may command more acreage than any other foodstuff on the planet. Imagine a sausage pizza built from sausage, a minced-beef Frisbee, a sizzling 50 Cent platter fabricated completely, entirely of meat. Eat enough of a pljeskavica, and youíll know what an anaconda feels like when it passes an entire capybara through its system.
Sounds delicious, but this reporter is based in New York City. I know we have Bosnians here, so we've gotta have this dish. Never fear: Doing some quick research on Chowhound, A Hamburger Today came across this post about a place called Samra's in the Kensington neighborhood of Brooklyn. That's not too far from AHT's BK HQ. We'll be sure to hit it up soon and make the full report.
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 Burgerwas 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.
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
Snyder, who had succeeded her husband and two sons as head of the family business, died Friday, according to an announcement from the company. Neither the cause nor the place of death was announced.
Despite 
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. 
