A Hamburger Today
An Urban Legend of a Burger at Farmstand in El Segundo, California
[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]
Farm Stand
422 Main Street El Segundo, CA 90245 (map); 310-640-FARM; farmstand.us
Cooking Method: Grilled
Short Order: The high quality (and massive) patty isn't matched by bun and toppings.
Want Fries with That? Yes, if they hold the Parmesan.
Prices: Ground Chuck Burger, $9.95 (lunch), $11.25 (dinner); served with Parmesan fries and choice of toppings.
Notes: Lunch, Monday - Friday, 11:00 a.m - 2:30 p.m.; Dinner, Monday - Thursday, 5:30 p.m. - 10:00 p.m., Friday - Sunday, 5:00 p.m. - 10 p.m.
Farmstand describes its cuisine as "urban country food," which is puzzling not only because of the slippery nature of an oxymoron (intentional, or otherwise), but also because it's located in a neighborhood that is neither. El Segundo is a tiny city (we're talking 16,000 or so residents) that sits just south of Los Angeles city limit. To the west is the Pacific and our ridiculous airport looms just to its north, but other than the occasional jet being rerouted overhead there is little to let you know that you are minutes (10 to 45 depending on traffic) from the heart of a metropolis.
The Main Street of "downtown" El Segundo is the "Main Street" of our imaginings; that Post-War strip of Pax Americana dotted with the independent shops and eateries that served all of a town's needs. (Before malls and big boxes retailers showed us how much more valuable discounted sweat socks are than a sense of community.) This is all to say, the "urban country" Farm Stand is located smack dab in the middle of suburbia.
A friend works in the area and invited me over the border to this for lunch with promises of a delicious, gargantuan burger. One out of two may not be bad, but when it comes to burgers, it's less than good.
Walking into Farm Stand is, for me, a quick trip back in time. In this case, to the 1980s and its impassioned commitment to anything contemporary. The interior of the restaurant is clean and bright, but has that sheen of an untrained designer bringing her discovery of industrial chic to bear on a restaurant space. It's not at all unpleasant, but you can sense the effort.
The menu is a mix of European and Mediterranean influences and is clearly committed to adding a bit of style to some ordinary offerings. The burger offers the options of blue or Swiss cheeses and grilled or raw onions. It's an oddly limited selection (no American or Cheddar?), but the beginnings of the meal hold promise.
Every customer is given nice selection of warm bread is accompanied by a fresh salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, and olives gratis. The salad, served in a wine glass, has a got a lemony kick and eats more like a salsa. There is also the option of dipping your bread into a beautiful yin-yang inspired oil plate that has a bit of heat from the chili infusions.
The burger arrives open-faced and, well, it's just huge. I suspect the meat weighs in north of a half-pound and is almost certainly the largest patty I've come across in very long time. The grill marks are deep in color, but surprisingly thin; like the kind you might get from a countertop, home-kitchen grill. The grilled onions have been cooked into that cloying jam that is so popular at fancy-pants places and so unpopular in my mouth. The bun is the expected (not preferred) massive brioche-style beast, but the addition of under-ripe tomato slices and a single romaine leaf is surprising turn of tradition.
The meat itself is excellent; the bold, clean flavor of the chuck accented by a good (not great) char. The grind is medium and despite the massive size, the patty isn't molded into submission. Further, it's nicely cooked, if a bit warmer than my requested medium rare. It wouldn't suffer from a bit more salt, but, honestly, I usually find patties this large to be the problem, not the strong point of a burger as it is in this case. It's in the accompanying elements that this burger falls flat.
The brioche bun is a particularly poor version of what—if actually brioche—is my least favorite option. Its ability to suck the juice (and thus, the pleasure) out of a hamburger patty will never cease to amaze me. In this case, even the huge and juicy patty is overwhelmed. The onions have turned the corner past caramelized and into bitter. The lettuce and tomato are little more than supermarket fare.
Generally speaking, Farm Stand is a better restaurant than its burger. The service was excellent and everything else I tasted (including my friend's Cornish Hen) was very good. Of course, that and three bucks will get you a Double-Double. Farm Stand delivers on its "country" with a delicious patty, but the "urban" affectation derails the sum of its burger parts. I'd love to taste their impressive patty on a simple, high-quality commercial bun and maybe a slice of American cheese. Sometimes we'd do better to just embrace where we are. I wish Farm Stand would let their burger be a little more suburban.