The Classic Cheeseburger at the Raymond 1886 was sheer perfection.
Every year, Cheeseburger Week is a joyride—good burgers everywhere, a city in a happy, grease-stained mood. And then there are moments when one kitchen quietly redraws the map. That’s what happened at Raymond 1886, where the team approached the annual event not as a stunt, but as a study in restraint, craft, and clarity.
Chef Jesus sent out two burgers. One was a classic cheeseburger, a benchmark rather than a showpiece, quiet burger perfection. The other—a bison burger built with grass-fed Wyoming bison, white cheddar, fig jam, Dijon mustard, and fresh arugula on a brioche bun—made a persuasive case for the idea that a burger can be both indulgent and precise. These were not burgers trying to shout over the room. They were burgers confident enough to speak quietly and clearly, and be heard everywhere.
The Raymond Classic cheeseburger—with white cheddar, pickles, carmelized onions, house dressing, tomato and bib lettuce— impressed us by refusing to overthink itself. The beef was cooked with care, seasoned with intent, and handled as if the kitchen trusted the ingredient to do its job. The cheese melted into the meat rather than sitting on top of it, and the Brioche bun did what a bun should do: hold, cushion, and disappear at the right moment. It was familiar, yes—but familiarity done right is never dull.
The Bison Burger, however, stepped into a category of its own. Bison can be tricky—lean, prone to dryness, unforgiving if mishandled. Here, it was juicy, deeply flavorful, and clearly respected. As Jesus explained, the bison is gently seared first, then taken off the grill and into the oven, to cut off the dryness before it even has a chance. The fig jam added sweetness at the top of the bite, without tipping into dessert territory; the Dijon cut through with quiet authority; the arugula brought a clean, peppery snap. The white cheddar bound it all together, and the brioche bun—light, resilient, never soggy—kept the architecture intact to the final bite. Every component had a purpose. Nothing felt accidental.
Then there were the fries. Too often an afterthought, here they were treated as equals. Crisp on the outside, fluffy on the inside, properly seasoned, and served hot, they delivered that rare satisfaction of being exactly what you hoped they’d be. These were all-star fries, the kind you keep reaching for even when you swear you’re full.
The same discipline extended to the bar. The 1886 Old Fashioned—made with Raymond 1886 single-barrel bourbon, Benedictine, Grand Marnier, tobacco bitters, Angostura bitters, and a flamed orange rose garnish—was balanced, aromatic, and seriously unsentimental. Even the ice cubes were immaculate: clear, deliberate, and clearly considered. Mocktails received the same level of attention. The Eastside Mocktail, sparkling and refreshing, and reinforcing the sense that everything presented was presented with purpose. The second mocktail, that I asked him to surprise me with, was equally delicious, though, for the life of me, I can’t remember what was in it.
Ask the bartender to surprise you, too.
What set Raymond 1886 apart wasn’t excess or novelty. It was intention. In a week that will be crowded with very good burgers, this was a reminder that greatness often lives in the margins—in temperature control, in proportion, in knowing when to stop.
This is a “Grade-A” performance across the board, and a standard others would do well to study.
The Raymond 1886 in Pasadena offers Modern American cuisine and craft cocktails in a historic cottage setting at 1250 S. Fair Oaks Ave. The restaurant opens daily at 4 p.m., with entrées typically ranging from $50 to $100 per person. Guests can reserve a table or order online, and most diners spend between 1.5 and 2.5 hours enjoying the space, which includes a garden patio, fireplace seating, and a private dining room. Parking is available in the surrounding area; rates vary by lot and street availability. For more information, call (626) 441‑3136 or visit theraymond1886.com.
