Editor's note: When our San Francisco correspondent David Kover took a trip to Ecuador a few months ago, he made sure to eat a burger for your AHT-reading pleasure.

[Photographs: David Kover]

Visit Ecuador's major cities and you'll discover easy access to a hamburger if you want it. Around universities, in downtown areas, not to mention wherever tourists congregate, plenty of restaurants that specialize in comida rápida advertise burgers—or hamburguesas, or burguers—on their awnings. In Quito, I even came across an unofficial In-N-Out, with a sign that looked like a giant photocopy of the fast food chain's logo, and a menu featuring pork chops, fried fish, and empanadas to go along with the burgers.

The requisite international chains also make a grab for Ecuadorian dollars (literally—Ecuador adopted US currency in the year 2000), but if you want to make your fast food burger experience a cultural experience, you can also check out the local flag bearer in the fast food burger game: TropiBurger. While their burger isn't any better—and may be worse—than the clown-and-king burgers of the world, they deliver their so-thin-it's-almost-not-there patties with a few South American twists.

TropiBurger originated in Venezuela, but it appears to call Ecuador its major market, with 18 locations across the country as of 2010. Owned by Grupo KFC—which manages, yes, the KFC franchises in Ecuador—TropiBurger's superficial appearance echoes that of any other generic burger chain. Glossy signs trumpet new specials and encourage customers to upgrade from a simple burger to a combo with fries and a drink for a few extra bucks. Though, in a country where a set lunch of soup, meat, and some rice and beans can often go for as little as $2, these combo meals don't feel like a bargain the same way they do in the United States.

TropiBurger differentiates itself from our own chains in the way that it folds a few of the local tastes into its offerings. Of course, classic burgers are an option, and the Americana, with barbecue sauce and cheese, also feels pretty familiar. But the Parrillera comes with chimichurri sauce and chorizo—if the picture provides an accurate likeness, we're talking about a hot dog split lengthwise on top of the patty. And the Criolla arrives topped with a fried egg and sautéed plantains, a combination I received on quite a few non-burger plates during my travels.

I made this latter option, the Criolla, my choice during my one TropiBurger experience. Unfortunately, the sweet plantain proved just about the only flavor in my burger. The patty on my TropiBurger owns the distinction of being the thinnest little flap of beef I've ever come across between buns, a centimeter thick at best. And with no particular color from the griddle to add flavor, I could just as easily have been eating chicken, or even tofu. The TropiBurger menu picture makes it appear as if the Criolla gets sauced with something herby, but the real thing had only mayo. That at least provided some much needed moisture, because the egg had been fried hard, well beyond the point where it could offer up its yolk.

As for the TropiBurger fries, they'd achieved a golden hue, but somehow didn't offer much in the way of a crisp exterior. And they needed more salt. Ultimately, they're a slightly bland, but unobjectionable mouthful of potatoes.

Don't go to TropiBurger expecting something drastically different from any other burger chain you've been to. Still, it's fun to see the minor revisions they offer to burger toppings in order to suit local tastes. Or, if egg and plantain on top of an ultra-thin patty doesn't sound all that appetizing, there's always In-N-Out.

More Snapshots from Ecuador

Tour of the Markets »
Making Chicha at the Edge of the Amazon Basin »
Guinea Pig and Corn Pizza »

About the author: David Kover is a San Francisco-based freelance writer and food enthusiast. He recommends that, if you find yourself in Guayaquil, Ecuador, and fast food burgers aren't high on your list, you should make a quick visit to El Pez Volador for encebollado.