My earliest culinary memories are of eating hamburgers.

I remember going to a drive-in with my dear old dad, cruising to a White Castle in the family Studebaker (with the classic bullet tip nose), and watching in wonder as he’d order two dozen burgers for himself, my mother, my sister and myself. They cost 12 cents each, and they were just wonderful.

In case you’ve never had the pleasure of a White Castle burger (by and large an Eastern phenomenon), you must understand that for your 12 cents what you got was basically a roll with a spot of grease on it. It was a soft sweet roll, pure candy, into which the thinnest burger (with holes punched in it “for quicker cooking”) was dropped, and covered with grilled onions, a sweet pickle slice, and a squeeze of ketchup.

It was heaven incarnate — and it was served to you in your car by a carhop, who did not arrive on roller skates.

The story of the hamburger is a fairly well-known tale among those with a taste for culinary history.

It was born among the Tartars of the Russian steppes, and adopted by the Germans around the 14th century. Because of its popularity in the seaport town of Hamburg, it earned the name “Hamburg steak,” which became “hamburger” when it was served to admiring crowds of Americans at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair.

A century later, we are in an age of the hamburger in excelsis, an ironic return to the styles of more than 150 years ago, when New York’s Delmonico’s, the finest restaurant of its age, listed “Hamburg steak” among its dishes.

Oscar Tschirsky, the legendary Oscar of the Waldorf, included “Hamburg steak” in his 1896 cookbook.

From the highest of the high, to the lowest of the low, hamburger has always been the most American of dishes, of totems, of icons.

Like the flag and Mom’s apple pie, the hamburger is a bit of pure, uncut Americana. It’s become a world unto itself, a world where our national fantasies live and play. And here in Long Beach, we live in Hamburger Heaven, complete with mustard, ketchup, mayo, Thousand Island dressing, lettuce, tomato, chili and bacon.

It’s Heaven on a seeded roll.

Long Beach’s best burgers

• Saint & Second (4828 E. Second St., Long Beach; 562-433-4828; saintandsecond.com). For the most part, this is the land of familiar dishes, made with unfamiliar twists. Consider the hummus, for instance. It’s made with fava beans, rather than garbanzos, flavored with smoked paprika and caperberries. It’s both hummus, and not hummus at the same time. It’s hummus on steroids.

Or how about the hickory smoked lamb ribs with fried basil, which is so messy to eat, I finished it with a trip to the men’s room to wash my hands; no way that ancho chili glaze was coming off with a napkin.

But when it comes to the very good burgers, Saint & Second stays pretty close to tradition — making a fine American burger, with grass-fed beef, cheddar cheese, tomato, pickled, lettuce and what they puckishly call their “secret sauce.”

The Western Burger ups the ante with pepper jack, barbecue sauce, smoked bacon, caramelized onions — and more “secret sauce.”

And if the need strikes, there’s a Veggie Burger as well, though it’s veggie-ness is somewhat modified…with melted brie. And up, more “secret sauce.” And for those who love their pork — there’s a fondness for pig here — in the double cut heritage pork chop, the pork banh mi sandwich with Sriracha mayo, the pork belly flat bread with kimchi and mozzarella — a combination you don’t run into every day.

• At Tavern on 2 (5110 E. Second St., Long Beach; 562-856-4000; tavernon2.com), as is the gastropub style, the heart of the menu beats around a bunch of madcap burgers; burgers are the definitive gastropub dish, with tacos running a close second. (Cheese and charcuterie plates fit in there too, but Tavern on 2 doesn’t play that.)

The house critter is the Tavern Burger, a big slab o’ ground beef, oozing juices, topped with caramelized onions, arugula, ketchup, garlic aioli and a super rich triple cream cheese called St. Andre, which is just on the edge of being too much. (I know. In for a penny, in for a pound.)

Perhaps even better, there’s a Black & Blue Burger, which is smothered with wonderful Maytag blue cheese, bacon, arugula and a mayo flavored with horseradish; it’s an amazing creation, with flavors that keep exploding on your dental work.

And then, there’s the Brutal Burger — with an umlaut over the “u,” thank you! It comes with a warning: “Extremely Hot!!” A reference to the Three Horsemen of Spicy Toppings — chili jam, roasted chili mayo, and Sriracha onions.

• Legends (5236 E. Second St., Long Beach; 562-433-5743; legendssportsbar.com) was started by football star Dennis Harrah (formerly of the Rams), who opened what he hoped would be The Great Sports Bar of Los Angeles.

And several decades later, it continues as Belmont Shore’s premier destination for sports, brews…and burgers.

Burgers that are actually better than they need to be. They’re half pounders, served on very crisp sesame seed buns, topped (in the California style) with thousand island dressing, lettuce, tomato, and a pickle, with a choice of french fries or coleslaw on the side.

They used to be named for local teams — there was a Ram Burger (bacon, avocado and cheese), a Raider Burger (the same, but without the avocado), a Dodger Burger (sauteed mushrooms and cheese), and an Angel Burger (barbecue sauce and cheese). On an old menu, I also found a Gretzky Burger (Canadian bacon, diced chilies and melted jack).

These days, though the burgers are still big beefy bruisers, the names are less sporty — there’s a Legends Burger, a Smokey Mac & Cheese Burger, a Drunken Mushroom Burger, and an oversized Herc Burger. I wonder what would be on the Dodger Burger these days. After the season end last year, I have to guess just a lot of crow.

• Though Beer Belly (255 Long Beach Blvd., Long Beach; 562-436-2337; beerbellyla.com) is not primarily known for its burgers, the burgers exist in such a net of burgerish dishes, it needs to have its place as a decided destination. This is, simply speaking, Disneyland for deep-fried.

To consider the menu is to confront your mortality — or at least the extremes of your love of crispy. Just consider the opening gambit, a menu section headed, “Fries & Snacks.”

What we have are especially crispy fries, some of the best in town, remarkable fries, served with a spiced sauce called ‘Frankenstein Ketchup” — and for $1.50 extra, topped with “House Cheddar Cheese Whiz.”

Then come the duck fat fries (in duck fat, with duck skin cracklin’s) and the house signature “Death by Duck” — duck fat fries with deeply fatty duck confit. There are also bacon fat fries with bacon bits, and pork belly chips (with a fantastic Tabasco aioli).

Even the veggies are caloric speedballs — the broccoli comes topped with the “Cheddar Whiz,” the Brussels sprouts with pancetta bacon. The jar of house-pickled cukes may be the healthiest thing on this side of the menu.

Eventually, you’ll come to the sizable mac ‘n cheese, along with killer baby backs, a beer-braised short rib poutine — a dish that Beer Belly was born to make. And that may lead you to chill out with the excellent burger, a fine meaty creation, especially with the addition of candied bacon slaw, which is crack for bacon lovers.

Four of the five desserts are deep-fried — and the fifth is made with marshmallow fluff. It seems like a diet dish by comparison.

• Like Beer Belly, Belly Bombz (11824 Artesia Blvd., Artesia; 562-402-5400; bellybombz.com) is perfectly named. Belly Bombz is unapologetically what it claims to be — a casual café that serves dishes that hit you in the gut, and stay there until your body figures out what the heck is going on.

And while you deal with the shock of what you’ve consumed, you can enjoy a tasty craft beer, and muck about on your plate for one more morsel. This is a restaurant of Belly Bombz that will make your belly very happy to have been bombed.

The fusion here is heavy. The elotes is white corn with bacon and a Korean chili aioli mayo — Mexican-Korean dish that cannot be denied. The chicken skin chicharrones stands somewhere between Latino and Jewish — fried chicken skin is a longtime Eastern European favorite; it comes with garlic salt for dipping, should you need more. And then, there’s the hot Cheetos mac, which is — yes! — mac ‘n cheese made using Cheetos instead of macaroni, a touch of culinary genius, for Cheetos have crunch, where mac doesn’t.

But that’s just a warmup — and it will warm you up. You need to move into the Bombz Zone, which begins with the wings, served both with the bone and without. And segues, ever so naturally, into a section of sliders, that begins with crispy tofu, and then quickly segues into true belly bombz like the burger made of ground beef and ground bacon, with cheddar and that Korean chili aioli, along with a 16-hour braised pork belly, that pretty much melts away as soon as you chew into it.

The pork belly reappears in the rice bowls, along with chicken thigh (skin on, of course), crusted pork loin, bacon and even salmon. And ultimately, you’ll get to the bulgogi burger to which you can add a second patty and a fried egg, in case you’re a bit peckish.

The truffle burger isn’t expected, but there it is. The pulled pork grilled cheese sandwich is expected, and there it is too. There’s “home spun” ice cream for dessert, which seems downright sane compared to the rest of the menu.

Classic burgers of Los Angeles

• The Apple Pan (10801 W. Pico Blvd., West Los Angeles; 310-475-3585) was, for many years, the single best hamburger in Los Angeles, and for good reason. What we have here is a half-century-old shack with a horseshoe-shaped counter inside, in the middle of which is the kitchen.

The burgers are cooked to order in front of you, topped with whatever you want including a fine hickory-flavored sauce. The french fries can’t be beat. The countermen are Los Angeles originals — there’s no one in town with their burger joint finesse. Some say that the tuna fish salad sandwich is even better than the burgers, and others opt for the joys of the egg salad sandwich.

I actually prefer the peach pie over the apple pie, but what the heck? Just being in the Apple Pan is pleasure enough.

• There are two hamburgers served at The Grill (9560 Dayton Way, Beverly Hills; 310-276-0615; thegrill.com), one a fresh ground beef steak with onions, the other a fresh ground plank steak. They’re both the same burger — three-quarters of a pound of lean, perfectly grilled beef. The difference is that one arrives on a plate with fried onions, the other comes on a wooden plank, surrounded by an ornate border of browned mashed potatoes.

• At Taylor’s Prime Steak House (3361 W. Eighth St., Los Angeles; 213-382-8449; taylorssteakhouse.com), the burgers are served with soup or salad, and with a baked potato or fries, is made from fresh ground prime steak trimmings, formed into burgers by hand. They’re grilled to perfection — the quintessence of the upscale burger in a setting that John Huston would have loved. And if you like wine with your burger, there used to be a 1928 Lafite for $500 on the menu. Red wine goes so well with hamburgers.

• With dozens of branches throughout Southern California (call 818-287-4377 for the location nearest you; in-n-out.com), In-n-Out is our most beloved homegrown chain. It’s also a burger chain with a cult following — when new branches open, there were lines in front akin to those found at the McDonald’s in Moscow. It was also rated the top fast-food chain in America in a poll conducted by the Zagat Survey, with lots of fans agreeing that this is the best non-greasy, real burger around, chain-division. And at In-n-Out, you always get a lot for the money — and some fantastic fries as well.

Merrill Shindler is a Los Angeles-based freelance dining critic. Send him email at mreats@aol.com.