[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

Few intersections signify wealth and status more than the one at Wilshire Boulevard and Rodeo Drive. It's the Southern edge of one of the most famous shopping strips in the world and home to the iconic Beverly Wilshire Hotel (the one Warren Beatty used to call home). The whole area is basically a monument to luxury and its excesses; that is to say, it's not a place you'll often find me.

But I make exceptions when I'm on the lookout for a burger, as was the case the other day. The hotel's restaurant The Blvd has a chef-ified burger with the interesting distinction of being one of the most expensive in town ($26!). Now, I'm not against spending a few extra dollars for burger exceptionalism, but I am a harsh judge of burger excess. I cherish the middle class history of the burger and often find myself mourning the recent burger boom that has upscaled this workman's lunch. That said, I will always find great solace in burger greatness—perhaps even with a swollen price tag The Blvd's burger could salve my heatbreak? Fat chance.

The vaulted interior of The Blvd (and the whole of the Beverly Wilshire Hotel for that matter) is certainly a testament to what money can buy. It's a lavish space with ceilings that must hit at least twenty feet. A bar made of onyx and backlit wine display are none-too-subtle reminders of just how much too much is.

The burger seems born of a similar design impulse. Chef Perfecto Rocher was born in the hillsides of Valencia, Spain, but little about his preparations seem to echo his country upbringing. Certainly there is a great respect for ingredients (he seems an avid shopper), but when it comes to his burger, I wish he'd left a few in the basket.

His Brie Cheese Sirloin Burger (a name that is at least two words too long) starts off with the right basic ingredient: a fantastic patty of top-notch sirloin. But he adds brie, caramelized onion, and a roasted tomato.

The patty itself was truly delicious. The juice poured out of it with my first bite and the steaky charm of the sirloin was unmistakable. It got a heavy helping of salt, which I love, and there was also a nice crust that added a crunchy texture. Of course, this feels a bit like being bribed. Successfully presenting a patty with such high quality beef is akin to winning a foot race on a bike. It's the putting together of the ingredients that the burger flies. Sadly, this one crashed.

The bun, described as a "Country Roll," is nothing more than a standard issue fancy-pants brioche. Snore. That so many high end (and increasingly mid-range) places get this wrong is becoming a bit of a joke and I feel like the butt of it. Added to that is the choice of brie: It's ill-suited to a burger, especially one with such high quality meat. Imagine melting a slice of it over your sirloin steak.

The onions were serviceable though barely noticeable unless tasted alone. Then I found mine served with an added wan slice of fresh tomato and some arugula despite not saying so on the menu. The roasted tomato had such an smoky and almost acrid flavor that I thought it was a roasted red pepper. As it turned out, that was because it was. Again, there was no mention of it on my menu. I wish it had been similarly overlooked when they put my burger together. Thankfully, the fries were expertly handled with beautiful, crisp exteriors, and slightly creamy interiors.

My burger at The Blvd was an odd mix of disappointment and relief. I am never really rooting for a burger to be bad, but there was, in this case, a part of me that didn't want the sandwich that defined America's middle class meal to better simply because someone spent more money on it. I was happy to be reminded that a burger can be better when it costs more, but will never be better simply because it does.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!