At Dunsmoor, only 20 burgers a night are made. Succotash salad, below left, and grilled Bandera quail offer Southern flavors.

The question “What is American food?” has only one unambiguous answer: It’s the culinary sum of all of us. Every chef seeks their own meanings. Brian Dunsmoor, who grew up in Georgia and spent childhood summers in Colorado, has mused on his regional origins during the last dozen years of his cooking career in Los Angeles. At his Glassell Park restaurant, the dining room’s faded brick, ambered lighting and central burning hearth (from which most of the dishes emerge) take me back to my years as a critic covering Atlanta. His menu moves with the calendar in rhythm to California, but the flavors register as patently Southern. Smoked pork is as much a part of Dunsmoor’s seasoning repertoire as salt or acid: Wood-fire warmth permeates his ham hock terrine tanged with pear and apple chutney, a salad of chicories wilted in hot bacon vinaigrette and a mushroom-crusted pork chop finished with smoked lard and thyme. He also knows when subtlety is the better choice, as in a spring dish of Carolina gold rice suffused with shrimp butter and Parmesan that sings of earthy sweetness. His famous chile-cheddar cornbread, baked in cast-iron skillets and literally dripping in butter, rightly namechecks Edna Lewis; everyone should know her contributions as one of the 20th century’s defining Black chefs and cookbook authors.

Another sensation the kitchen team pulls from the hearth: an 8-ounce burger made from dry-aged beef with a thick veneer of Comté and a crown of onion jam or thick-sliced tomato (depending on the season). The restaurant makes 20 burgers a night and serves them only in the bar next door. Its hedonism is itself worth a trip to the bar, though I have also started with a burger before a full meal next door and finished the evening without room for grape buckle cake but also with no regrets. — B.A.

3501 EAGLE ROCK BLVD., LOS ANGELES l DUNSMOOR.LA