[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

You couldn't always walk into a pricey restaurant and find a burger as matter of course. Not so long ago, not having a burger on the menu was a significant part of a restaurant's attempt to establish itself as a serious eatery. Thankfully, we serious eaters have won out and now those higher-end establishments have embraced us and the burger.

In New York, Nick has waxed on about the pleasures of Minetta Tavern's Black Label and I show no signs of waning when it comes to talking up Rustic Canyon and chef Evan Funke's burger creations. Of course, this didn't happen all at once. This burgerfication of our food landscape wasn't initiated by the upscale restaurants getting casual with their menus—it was the casual that did the upscaling.

In Los Angeles one of the early high-end burgers to grab people's attention was downtown's Pete's Café and Bar. A friend took me there many years ago and I rather liked it. But that was then. I went back to see how Pete's burger measures up to the now.

If you walk to the far end of the bar at Pete's you see some proof that these folks take their burgers somewhat seriously. A fantastic painting of a nun presiding over some cheeseburgers keeps watch over one end of the restaurant. It's got to be one of the better pieces of burger kitsch I've come across.

Pete's Hellman Burger is a half pound of prime beef topped with Fontina cheese, green leaf lettuce, tomato, red onion, and smoked tomato aioli. By today's gourmet burger standards the construction seems rather tame, but you can imagine that once upon a time that sounded like a pretty fancy burger.

The bun doesn't get a mention on the menu, but it's worth a little attention. While not perfectly spongy, it's certainly better than a standard, high-end brioche and comes nicely toasted. Prime beef (only about 3% of cows qualify) means higher intramuscular fat content, though my patty didn't give off the juice I'd expect. That said, it had a nice char and was properly cooked to my medium rare.

I liked the choice of Fontina as a cheese—it has a familiar nuttiness, but a bit of distinct and nontraditional character for a burger. It's different, yet familiar, and it melts very well. The lettuce, tomato, and red onion were fresh and add some welcome tradition. The smoked tomato aioli didn't step forward much, such that I added a little ketchup about halfway through. I also tried their Mac and Cheese and—despite lots of positive whispering—was disappointed to find a heavy fennel flavor that made it a dish I'd only order once.

The fries are shoestring and served in their own aluminum container, but don't deserve the special attention. Mine lacked any contrasting texture (crisp exterior to smooth interior) and had a mild flavor. They weren't bad, just not standouts.

Indeed, Pete's burger could be fairly described much the same way. It's a solid burger without any major failings, but also nothing that makes it stand out. I can imagine that it may have once been a noteworthy updating (and upscaling) of the classic, but set against the contemporary burger landscape, it fades into the background.