Wolfe Burgers: More Than Zesty Mexican in Pasadena

The tacos are so overstuffed that they crack when you bite into them and meat spills all over the place. The chorizo is grease-free and made from trimmed pork roast, not the salivary glands, lymph nodes and other oddments that go into some commercial brands. The tamale is jammed with big chunks of pork, doused with mellow chili and covered with cheese and green onions.

Where do you go for Mexican dishes of this caliber? To a fast-food hamburger place, of course. Not in East Los Angeles, but in Pasadena, just north of the fancy Lake Street shops.

There’s still another surprise: Josephine Arroyo, the woman who makes the tamales and the chorizo, isn’t Mexican. She’s an Apache, born in Arizona and reared in the Riverside County community of Arlington.

Arroyo might still be working at a dry-cleaning plant if she hadn’t run into Pasadena photographer Dan Wolfe. A caterer on the side, Arroyo brought her Mexican dishes to a party that Wolfe happened to attend. One taste inspired Wolfe to widen his focus.

The result is Wolfe Burgers. Wolfe owns the business and Arroyo runs the shop. Nine years ago, when they opened, it was hard to find a first-rate hamburger in Pasadena. That’s why they decided to promote sandwiches rather than tacos.

But the Mexican food gets plenty of attention. To taste the chorizo, go before 10:30 a.m. It’s combined with eggs, cilantro, tomatoes and cheese in a burrito. Called South of the Border, it has a northern counterpart filled with spicy ground beef, tomato, cheese and potatoes.

Even morning grouches should cheer up with the Belgian waffles, especially one decorated with fresh fruit like strawberries and kiwi, topped with the thickest possible whipped cream and doused with blueberry or maple syrup. Another waffle comes with warm, cinnamon-flavored apples.

Whatever you eat, you’re aware of Dan Wolfe’s presence, at least in name. The Belgian waffles are called Woofles. The biggest burger (2/3 of a pound of meat) is a Big Bad Wolfe; hot dogs are Wolfe Hounds. A fish sandwich is a Sea Wolfe. And the tamale is titled Lobo.

The basic Wolfe Burger (a 1/3-pounder) comes on a white or whole-wheat sesame seed bun and contains lettuce and tomato.

But it’s onions that lure many to Wolfe Burgers. The onion rings here are superbly crisp, thanks to Arroyo’s beer-flavored batter. But the French fries were limp the other day. I don’t know why, because they were freshly cooked. You could watch them bubbling furiously in fry baskets behind the order counter. And one Saturday the chili was thick, starchy and meatless, apparently a temporary lapse because it was fine the next visit.

Extras at Wolfe Burgers include splits of champagne to romanticize hamburger munching. And there are T-shirts for sale, decorated, of course, with a vigorous wolf.

Wolfe Burgers, 46 N. Lake St., Pasadena; (818) 792-7292. Open daily from 6:30 a.m. to midnight. Cash only. Parking lot in back.