I can already hear the devotees of Rick's Drive In and Out clamoring about the title of this week's review. Many of the burgers that come across my plate have their loyal supporters, but Rick's is a restaurant—or should I say small chain—that has a developed a loving and loyal following through its many years. In fact, I've even received emails asking for a little coverage of this classic drive-in. I know calling it a disappointment will raise hackles, but perhaps they should take some of the blame; that is to say, if my expectations hadn't been lifted by the fandom, there may have been less cause for disappointment.

Truth be told, I had expectations all my own. My relatively recent move to the eastern half of the city put me within just a couple of minutes of the Silver Lake outpost of Rick's. My lazy, cheapskate, burger-loving heart held such high hopes for a restaurant that was as close and as affordable as my neighborhood's Rick's.

Their burgers are all multiples of the 1/4-pound patty. I ordered a single cheeseburger and a double for safety. As I often find that these 1/4-pound patty joints find their stride with the double, I wanted to be sure that I had a fair representation of what a burger can be at Rick's. Unfortunately, in this case, medium rare isn't part of its potential—when I asked for it at my temperature, I was shrugged off.

The order is taken at the register and then you head off to your seat. I was pleased to find that Rick's doesn't bother with plastic numbers suspended from metal holders, nor do they employ the electronic beeper system (worse yet) to locate you. You simply give them your name and then they call it out when your food is served. I can imagine regulars enjoying being recognized and new clients feeling a little more welcome with this first name game.

My food came out with a call of "Damien." Oh well, I'm used to people pronouncing my name with the extra vowels and snickers about The Omen. I appreciated the effort.

The burgers and fries arrived in the classic drive-in paper wrapping and looked lovely. The single was still a sizable mouthful, but my fears about the svelte 1/4-pound patty were well founded. The meat, overcooked to a fast food gray, did little to stand up to an above average-sized bun and heaps of lettuce and tomato. But that didn't mean the double couldn't come to my lunch's rescue.

The double is, even in its look, more balanced burger. First the good: the condiments were stand-outs. The shredded lettuce, usually a soggy mess, was crisp and cool and a surprising delight. The tomato was even better. Now, one could be dismissive of this by noting that we are in prime tomato season here in Southern California and it's to be expected that I'd get a good tomato. But considering that my local Von's finds a way to stock flavorless tomatoes in the summertime, Rick's gets credit for choosing a good purveyor. The "sauce" tasted like a standard Thousand Island to me, but added a pleasant sweetness.

Now for the bad. While the sesame bun looked lovely, it lacked the sponginess I look for in the good commercial varietals. Rick's has chosen the bready and sturdy version that—while I would guess is better for traveling (the "out" part of the In and Out)—is ultimately less tasty. Then there is the meat. With a double patty I was able to get a better sense of what it offers this sandwich. The answer is: not much. Once again, the patties were cooked to a wan gray and yet they still lacked any satisfying char. There was also almost no hint of seasoning—the meat was little more than warm, chewy texture.

Rick's is consistently abuzz with activity, so they've clearly figured out a formula that satisfies their regulars. It's just a formula that doesn't do much for my burger needs. While their version finds some bright spots with the condiments, I don't think a supporting cast can carry a movie. This meal wasn't horror show, but it certainly wasn't for me. Maybe it was all for Damien.