[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

While we may be in a decidedly post-bubble world, there remain certain neighborhood spots that engender what could fairly be described as irrational exuberance. They are the kind of restaurants that people can barely describe without resorting to superlative; the moistest muffins, the spiciest salsa, the tastiest burgers. Like most things we love, these assessments are tinged with the rose color of our belief that somehow we live near the best of something. (Perhaps you've seen Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.)

In my bourgeois, hipster enclave of Los Feliz on the the east edge of Hollywood there is one restaurant that occupies this special status: Alcove Cafe & Bakery. On any given Sunday (or Saturday for that matter) you'll find teeming masses of well-to-do brunchers lining up for pancakes, chai lattes, and—on occasion—the Alcove Burger.

If I'm honest with you, I've long avoided the Alcove for the simple reason of its popularity. I have long since aged through the charm of swimming through a sea of humanity to get my food served because it might make me feel reassured in my choice of restaurant ("It must be good—everyone else is here"). These days I'm more apt to covet an empty dining room and the comfort of an unburdened waitstaff. A recent midday meal found me at Alcove in just such a circumstance, which could only mean one thing: I'll have the burger (and see what all the fuss is about).

The Alcove isn't some johnny-come-lately spot that is riding the heat of its newness. This is a restaurant that has been around since 2004, but is housed in a Spanish-style duplex that dates back to the early 20th century. This is relevant mostly because the owners have meticulously restored the space (you can read all about it on their website) and the resulting space is doubtless a large part of its draw. It isn't my taste, but its undeniably an impressive bit of architecture.

As for the burger construction, there might be some argument for a little restoration. The Alcove Burger is served with tomato, wild arugula, caramelized onions, and choice of cheese; I opted for cheddar. The bun is called a "caramelized onion bun," and the burger comes with either Yukon Gold french fries, onion rings, or a selection of side salads.

The patty is about eight ounces of run-of-the-mill chuck whose best quality is its grind. The medium loose grind makes for great texture, but little help that is when you don't salt and pepper the thing. Alcove's burger is woefully under-seasoned. The griddling made for a decent crust, and kudos to Alcove for bringing mine out at a proper medium rare. That said, there wasn't anything that made it special.

The bun is perhaps misidentified on the menu. It's really more of a focaccia that gets an unpleasant panini press. For the life of me I can't imagine the gastronomic argument for applying this much pressure to an already below-average bun.

On the advice of a server (or should I say, the counter person from whom you order) I got the full run through the garden when it came to toppings. That meant applewood smoked bacon, arugula, avocado, and "wild" tomato. (I'm not sure why it's considered a "wild" tomato, but I imagine menu writing is its own art.) There wasn't anything wrong with these fresh veggies, but I'm not sure why they added so many of them to the burger. The bacon was a happy addition of crispy salt and the cheddar actually helped matters even more. It was sharp and added a little needed fat. The bun (and its sadistic pressing) did little to add to the experience except help hold the burger together.

Fries were an enjoyable crispy, salty diversion and came out piping hot. I had to restrain myself from making them the center of my meal. Yes, this was partly due to my disinterest in the burger, but it should be read as a genuine recommendation.

On balance, there is little special about the burger at this popular neighborhood joint. It was a bland patty that's pressed between an equally mediocre bun with some decent toppings. Sure, it's perfectly serviceable for what is really known for being a great brunch spot (that is, eggs et al.), but considering the popularity of the restaurant I had much higher hopes. Can something be the mediocrest? If so, this might be the best description of Alcove's burger.

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.

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