The Best Places in New Zealand

A long, narrow dining room with an open kitchen visible through an arch at the far end sets the tone at this contemporary New Zealand restaurant in Grafton. The chef runs tasting menus of five or eight courses, built around seasonal local produce, alongside a shorter à la carte for the less committed. The intimate booths make it a reliable date-night call. The Michelin Guide has it on their selected list.

The room takes its colors from the Pacific, all ocean blues and island textures, with an open kitchen at one end keeping things lively. Michael Meredith named this restaurant after his mother, whose cooking sent him into the kitchen in the first place, and the Samoan menu follows that logic. Wood-fired snapper, crispy pork hock, and panikeke to start, the fried doughnut kind, not the pancake kind.

Shane Cotton's mural of pots marks the door of this restaurant tucked into a Britomart heritage building, where distressed walls and pale oak give the room a warmth that feels earned rather than designed. The open kitchen is the centrepiece, turning out New Zealand and Pacific flavours with a serious hand on the grill and enough finesse elsewhere to keep things interesting. The kind of place where the room and the food both look better than they're trying to.

An old-school institution tucked into Epsom that's been the neighborhood's go-to for a proper sit-down dinner longer than most of its regulars care to count. The kitchen keeps European technique front and center, with the odd Asian note folded in, and never performs more than the ingredients ask for. Service is attentive in the earnest, unhurried way that makes it genuinely good for a long meal with people you need to impress.

A pair of sunglasses left on the window tables tells you everything about the room: bright, open, with Waitemata Harbour filling the glass. This French restaurant in Commercial Bay folds local and seasonal produce into classic technique, and the portions are the kind that make you reconsider dessert before you've finished the main. The chocolate mousse, served tableside with honeycomb and pistachios, suggests the kitchen knows exactly what it's doing with an exit line.

Hokey pokey ice cream affogato on an Italian menu tells you exactly what kind of place this is: loose, cheerful, and not taking itself too seriously. Otto is a boisterous trattoria-style spot on K Road where the pasta is homemade, the lamb ribs are ordered by everyone, and the whole point is a big group, a loud table, and enough dishes to make sharing feel mandatory. The Michelin Guide has it selected.

A snug cottage in Aro Valley where the chef makes every decision for you, serving a three-course set menu that changes with each service. Named after the chef's grandmother, it has that energy. There's no agonizing over the menu, just whatever's good that day, often built around local kingfish or duck. Two sittings a night, and the kind of place where the booking fills up long before you thought to look.

Sheepskin draped over the chairs sets the mood before you've opened the menu: this is a full-service restaurant from the New Zealand clothing brand Rodd & Gunn, and yes, the boutique is right next door. The kitchen leans on local produce and slow-cooked meats, lamb shoulder especially, with a few Mediterranean detours along the way. The duck-fat roast potatoes have a small but devoted following, best ordered without consulting your waistband first.

A compact Neapolitan pizzeria on Parnell Road, where the electric oven faces the open kitchen and the whole room smells of dough with a proper crust. The chef is from outside Naples and has brought the full argument with him, including pasta and secondi alongside the pies. The Genovese turns up eighteen thousand kilometers from where it belongs and seems completely unbothered about it. Ranked among 50 Top Pizza's Asia-Pacific list.

Meat cleavers double as door handles, which sets the tone before you've ordered a drink. This cocktail bar sits inside a lakefront steakhouse in Queenstown, dressed up in plush contemporary style despite looking like a colonial cottage from the outside. The lake views do a lot of the heavy lifting in summer, and the crowd skews toward people who've had a good day on the slopes and don't mind showing it.

Central Otago pours run deep at this wine bar in Arrowtown, with bottles from the surrounding region joined by Barossa selections and vintage French champagnes. The high-ceilinged room keeps things unfussy, simply dressed tables and a relaxed pace that feels genuinely local rather than performed. An open kitchen runs along one side for anyone who wants something to watch with their glass.

A narrow beer bar tucked opposite Bardeaux on Queenstown's drinking circuit, Mini Bar runs a passport scheme where you drink your way around the world one bottle at a time, from over a hundred international options. Pop art in the Lichtenstein style covers the walls. There are cocktails on offer and a solid back-bar, but this is a beer place at heart, and the bartenders know it too.

Tucked above Minibar up a flight of stairs, this one-room cocktail bar has a vaulted ceiling and a sliver of a view over the corner below. It's a little rough around the edges, which is precisely its charm: bartenders drink here on their nights off, and by midnight the music has climbed accordingly. They chill the wine glasses before pouring cold whites, which tells you something about where their priorities sit.

A rusting padlock hangs off a battered blue door down a secluded alleyway off Arrowtown's main drag, and that's the whole address you'll need. This atmospheric bar sits in old gold-mining country where the high street already looks like a Western set, and the bar leans into that energy without trying too hard. The kind of place you find by accident and tell people about like a secret, even though everyone already knows.

Absinthe fountains, crystal decanters, and gold bartending equipment crowd the shelves of this cocktail bar, lit almost entirely by tea-lights. The menu sorts drinks by historical category, fizzes and daisies and the rest, each with a footnote on who invented it and where. The vibe is full-throated heritage emporium, which makes the thumping dance music either a charming contradiction or a minor existential crisis, depending on your mood.

Upstairs from the Red Rock pub, this small whisky bar fits leather chesterfields, barrel tables, and glass cases of whisky paraphernalia into a room that feels like a gentleman's club someone actually uses. Your feet rest on an old piece of railway line at the bar, which sets the tone. The selection covers Scotch, Japanese, Canadian, and bourbon, thorough enough for a good evening, and there are other spirits tucked in old crates below for anyone who wandered in by accident.