Behold the Diablo Burger. Click to enlarge.
My never-ending quest to find the best hamburger in Los Angeles continues. Tonight Nicci and I ventured over to Lucky Devils with Andy and Lisa. After hearing about their assortment of burgers from my roommate and numerous food blogs, I had high expectations for their pub burger. For those of you keeping track at home, I’ve made my way through the hamburgers at Bowery, Oaks Gourmet Market, BoHo, 8oz. Burger Bar, Golden State, Father’s Office, The Oinkster, Umami, The Counter, Apple Pan, and God knows what else I’m forgetting. At this point there are still a ton of absolute “musts” on my list of eateries that need to be visited before I can create a true list (Comme Ca, 25 Degrees, Hungry Cat and Foundry spring to mind). But I am not made of money. I wish I was, but I gotta work for my burgers, you know what I’m saying?
Anyway, Lucky Devils was unusually reserved for a Friday night. I’d heard that it could get ridiculously crowded, but we waltzed in at half-past eight o’clock this evening and were seated instantly at a table for four. The wait service was kind and attentive. Our orders went as follows: Andy got a turkey burger with crispy fries, Lisa stuck with a salad, Nicci ordered the bacon bleu burger (grass-fed beef) with sweet potato fries, and I ordered the Diablo burger (kobe beef) with crispy fries. Drinks for Andy and I were Dogfish Head 90 Minute IPA (I miss Dogfish head on draught, so I’ll drink it anywhere I find it even though I should be trying new things). Nicci had something called a toasted pecan milkshake that was like a calcium-enriched orgasm in a glass. It made me temporarily forget about my being lactose intolerant.
The burger appears more intimidating than it really is. Snake River Farms kobe beef with sharp cheddar, double-smoked bacon, avocado, house thousand island, hot sauce and arugula on a toasted Brioche bun. The bun is large but, as Andy pointed out, it’s very airy. It’s also one of the better buns I’ve encountered at the recent pubs I’ve visited. I wished the avocado was cut a little thinner, as it was prone to slipping out of the bun. The beef was delicious. Great construction and consistency. Lots of full flavors in every bite. Texturally stunning. I had to slow myself down after every bite to better savor what I was consuming.
Nicci and I shared a few bites with each other, and I was floored by her bacon bleu burger. I’m not a huge blue cheese fan (and I think I’m in the minority when I say in regards the oeuvre Father’s Office is uninspiring), but the amazing grass-fed beef combined with the mixture of gruyere and Maytag blue was delightful. The caramelized onions were done to perfection. I was really impressed by that one, and will probably order it on my next visit.
A lot of what I’ve read about Lucky Devils includes mention of the french fries. Some have even hailed them the best in the city. Plain and simple, they’re really fucking good. I liked the crispy ones better than the sweet potato fries. I’ve seen enough variations on that theme to last a lifetime now, and really when you eat sweet potato fries it’s more about the dipping sauce than the preparation the fry. The crispy fries here outshine any other I’ve had during this search for the best hamburger in Los Angeles. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good sweet potato fry, but I don’t think there’s any reason to order those when they’re on the same menu as these crispy guys.
As I start to eat more of these heavy hitter hamburgers — the ones most commonly found on food critics “best of” lists — I’m sure to run into more staggering sandwiches. I think Lucky Devils’ will definitely be in contention for a high ranking. So help me God, I’m going to make this the most honest and accurate list I can. If it takes me another two years to return to these places and make up my mind, I won’t publish the list until I’m completely content with my choices. Much like the food I cram into my stupid mouth, and the pussy I’ve plundered lo these past twenty-six years, I demand perfection from my “best of” lists.
Look at that, I made it all the way to the last sentence before making a crass statement about female genitalia! See mom, I am growing up.
Note: I don’t actually talk to my mom about female genitalia…I’m, uh…I’m gonna go now. I’ve gotta go. Hey! Look over there! Isn’t that a
