News that I had to go to Los Angeles last week was news that I would be eating hamburgers. And I did eat hamburgers. I ate a bad one, that gave me a sad view of life and the way things are. And I ate a good one, that made me very happy, and raised up my view of the cosmos.
Burger one was at a trendy LA hotel restaurant called 25 degrees. The name is meant to describe the difference between well-done and medium-rare, in temperature. What a cruel joke, then, that the place couldn’t get me a medium-rare burger in three tries! I wrote about it caustically on Eater LA, saying “25 Degrees let me down, and underscored for me yet again the inability of trend-conscious operators to grasp the most basic rudiments of burgerdom.” I even told the sad story of my experience there, which ended in rancor: “I ordered it medium rare, and when it came well-done, I sent it back apologetically, giving the kitchen a chance to make things right. They didn’t, producing another gray mass. “I’m sorry,” I told the tattooed waitress apologetically. “But this one is well-done too.” She now began to look at me as an enemy, and when, on a third try, the burger only showed the palest of pinks, such as you might see in a bridesmaid’s carnation corsage, it was time to blame the victim. “That is medium rare, sir,” she said testily. “If you wanted it less than that, you should have ordered it rare.’”
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I should have ordered it rare! What effrontery! As I fumed, hours later in my car, replaying the scene in my mind, I began to be unhappy. Tau proteins started to form in my brain. My thoughts turned to the dark side of human nature — bossy stroller women, friends who never call you, “gonzo” pornographers, Objectivists, Congolese militamen. But then I went to a place called Pie n Burger. And I felt that there was good in human nature too.
Pie n Burger, in Pasadena, is a kind of throwback burger joint I know quite well. There is at least one in every major city. There’s a low counter, a salty old cook, a friendly waitress, a rich repository of memory and nostaligia, cultural capital the place can call upon. The foodies love it, the critics revere it — and nobody minds that the burgers are usually not much better than an above-average Wendy’s. Happily, Pie n Burger delivered a dream of a cheeseburger, crusty and juicy, and exploding with flavor, just when I needed it most. Even the special sauce was as fresh and vivid as ceviche. The hot soft white bun was like handling a cloud; the Waffle House-style shredded hash browns and blueberry pie were just extra blessings showered upon me. The whole thing cost less than $20 and I left with great sadness, like Ronald Colman in Lost Horizon. But unlike him, I’ll make it back to my Shangri-La.
(image of Pie n Burger by Nick Solares of Serious Eats)