The B³ Burger
This is a damn good burger. Kevin Ahajanian, fitted with the Keller halo from time spent at Bouchon, has stacked up something with the bones of Cali quintessential. The meat in B³'s burgers isn't Prather, but Harris Ranch, in patties that wear their beefiness confidently, over a delicate animal muskiness.
Ahajanian has the good sense to lay off the salt, which helps keep the patty tender. At medium rare, it was the juiciest burger we've devoured since the one at Serpentine our colleague Jonathan Kauffman turned us on to. The surrounding infrastructure (Acme bun, good tomatoes, and house-cured pickles, including a semi-opaque wheel of daikon) lets the patty shine. Of course, you can choose to obliterate it under a Dagwood stack of add-ons, Custom Burger-like. We pulled the hammer on a fried egg and Manchego, the former adding a luxurious stickiness via its liquid yolk, the latter a slightly yeasty pungency.
As for the core of B³, the cult wine program that has servers advising diners with the curatorial zeal of counter staff at a cannabis dispensary discussing the psychotropic fine points of Grand Daddy Purple? We'll save that for a visit less charged with burger lust.
B³: 1152 Valencia (at 23rd St.), 401-7258. Open for dinner only.