The Best Restaurants in the United Arab Emirates

Perched high in the Four Seasons on Al Maryah Island, Coya is a Peruvian restaurant that folds Japanese and Chinese inflections into its Latin American framework, a combination that sounds like a dare and mostly lands. Ceviche, tacos, and skewers are built to circle the table, while the mains run toward grilled lobster and wagyu. A 16-course tasting menu is there for the committed, a set lunch for the sensible.

The pisco bar alone draws a crowd before anyone touches the ceviche menu. This Peruvian restaurant and bar sits inside the Four Seasons' outdoor Restaurant Village, where the room runs loud and candlelit and nobody seems to be eating alone. The kitchen works the Nikkei angle hard, with ceviches in several directions and a sweetcorn meringue pavlova that sounds odd until it doesn't. Cocktail credentials are no afterthought; the bar team placed among the regional top ten in the Spirited Awards.

A giant red dragonfly hovers over the dining room, and the dark wood ceiling panels were fitted by craftsmen who came over from China specifically for the job. This contemporary Japanese restaurant on the Marasi waterfront swings wide, covering sushi, maki, dim sum, and noodles, with pan-Asian detours along the way. Lunch draws a quieter crowd; dinner tips into cocktail bar energy with the volume to match.

Camel leather chairs and banquette seating fill a heritage building in Nad Al Sheba, where this Emirati restaurant treats local culture as the whole point rather than the backdrop. The menu runs through mezze, chicken machboos, salads, and sandwiches, all built for sharing, and the fwala tray reframes high tea as an Emirati affair. The team is warm in the way that makes you stay longer than planned.

A Sakura tree anchors the middle of the dining room, which tells you this Lebanese restaurant in The Galleria mall is going for something a little more theatrical than your average shawarma stop. The space leans into colour hard, with floral chairs and pink-flower vines throughout. Dishes are built for sharing and come in generous portions. Save space for the kunafa, which earns its own sentence here.

A wishing tree wrapped in red ribbons anchors the dining room at this Silk Road-themed Chinese restaurant in DIFC, where the menu travels from Northern China through Xinjiang and into fiery Sichuan territory, because the chef happens to be from there. Lanterns string the terrace, lunch skews corporate, and dinner loosens up considerably. The flaming whole Peking duck is the move for anyone marking an occasion.

Martín Berasategui named this 18th-floor Basque restaurant after his eldest granddaughter, which is either charming or a lot of pressure for the kid. The room runs dark and brasserie-grand, with an open kitchen where everything moves over fire and charcoal. The terrace looks straight out at Downtown Dubai, and the Basque cheesecake has a following of its own. Dress like you mean it.

Dry-aged cuts sit on display in glass cabinets as you walk in, which tells you most of what you need to know about Leña. It's a grilled meats and fish restaurant on The Palm, the Dubai outpost of Spanish chef Dani García, where the black-and-orange room is meant to evoke charcoal embers. Croquetas come in tempura rather than breadcrumbs, the signature burger makes an appearance mid-meal, and dessert rolls out on a trolley. Grab the terrace when the weather cooperates.

A contemporary restaurant tucked into Dubai's Al Barari neighborhood, where most of the cooking happens over open flames, a wood-fired oven, or the rotisserie. The room is light wood and concrete, kept spare enough that the food does the talking. The chef duo behind it runs a tasting menu that moves through global culinary traditions, land, sea, and air getting roughly equal billing. A Michelin Selected Restaurant.

A seat on the terrace puts the Burj Khalifa directly overhead, which is either romantic or completely distracting depending on your company. Inside, this Chinese restaurant splits between a Regency-style parlour and a darker, club-like library room. The classic menu runs from dim sum to sweet and sour chicken, and a set tasting menu exists for anyone who'd rather not negotiate. The team is charming and happy to guide you through it.

Perched in Etihad Towers, Moksh is a bright, color-saturated Indian restaurant that moves from street snacks to regional classics without losing the thread. The kitchen leans on familiar flavors while quietly nudging things contemporary, which sounds like a cliche until you taste the chaat served in crisp puris. The kulfi lands well-presented at the end, suggesting a team that takes dessert as seriously as the rest of it.

The open kitchen at this Mediterranean restaurant in The Galleria Mall is ringed by a counter dressed with seasonal ingredients, which is either decor or a menu hint, probably both. It's a spacious, smartly laid room where a pianist plays all day, giving lunch the slightly cinematic quality of a movie set in somewhere nicer than a mall. The pasta is made fresh daily, and the fish and gazpacho earn their place on the menu.

Floor-to-ceiling windows face the Al Qana Marina, and the shaded terrace spills out toward the water beyond. Oii is a casual, all-day Mediterranean spot that runs from a wide breakfast spread into colorful small plates, salads, and larger dishes as the day progresses. The cooking leans bright and punchy, grilled octopus with mojo rojo setting the register. The name means "hi" in Portuguese, which about captures the mood.

Horseshoe booths overlooking the marina at Port de la Mer set the scene at this Italian restaurant with an unusual angle: the kitchen folds Japanese technique into the menu alongside homemade pastas and pizzas topped with things like spicy duck and sriracha. The tiramisu arrives wrapped in soft meringue, which is either alarming or intriguing depending on your mood. A serious alcohol-free wine list means non-drinkers get something worth thinking about too.

The terrace looks out over a small marina of luxury yachts, which sets the tone pretty efficiently. This Mediterranean restaurant on the fourth floor of The Lana channels the French Riviera, from the sun-bleached dining room to a menu that drifts between Provence and Italy. Jean Imbert's name is on the door, and the kitchen leans into the showmanship, finishing the tuna tartare tableside. Pack something that wouldn't embarrass you on a superyacht.

Red paper lanterns and tiled walls set the mood on the ninth floor of FIVE LUXE JBR, where the windows frame Ain Dubai straight across the water. This is a contemporary Japanese restaurant covering a lot of ground, from raw fish and tempura to robata and teppanyaki, and the kitchen handles the range with genuine care. Counter seats open up an omakase option that draws the dedicated crowd who come for the chef's full attention.

A Damien Hirst octopus greets you on the ground floor before a glass lift delivers you to a dimly lit, seabed-themed dining room and bar where every surface seems to be doing something. The Japanese and pan-Asian sharing plates hold their own against the décor, which is saying something. The balcony terrace has sweeping DIFC skyline views, and the bathroom has its own fan base on Instagram, independently.

The open kitchen runs on live fire and the DJ runs loud, which sets the mood at this contemporary Japanese restaurant inside Emirates Palace. Ross Shonhan built his name around Warayaki, a technique where burning straw briefly kisses the ingredients, and the tableside prep keeps things theatrical. Sake, bespoke cocktails, and a terrace when the Gulf air cooperates round out an evening that leans more spectacle than silence.

Graffiti covers the walls, neon lights the bar, and the staff arrive in punk jackets with a friendliness that defuses all the attitude. Dabiz Muñoz, the Madrid chef behind DiverXO, dreamed up this loud, open-plan street food restaurant where the counter seats overlooking the kitchen are the ones to grab. The menu pulls from Europe, Asia, and South America in equal measure, and the molten white chocolate lava cake is not an afterthought.

Tucked onto a mezzanine in Dubai Mall's Chinatown quarter and easy to miss from the main flow, Tang Town is a dimly lit Cantonese restaurant where the mood runs deliberately low and unhurried. The menu leans into prime ingredients, pairing Peking duck with caviar and Wagyu across a broad spread of Cantonese and Sichuan dishes. Come evening, the small centre stage hosts Chinese dance performances, which is either exactly your thing or quietly charming either way.

You enter through the back door of another restaurant, which is either a red flag or a very good sign. Inside, a U-shaped wooden counter seats twelve around an open kitchen, where the chef runs a kaiseki-style omakase, eight or twelve courses of modern Japanese cooking shaped around a monthly theme. The room runs on conversation between guests and the team, making it feel less like dinner service and more like a very controlled dinner party.

A marina view at the quieter end of Al Qana sets the tone for this relaxed Mediterranean restaurant, where the music is good enough that dinner stretches longer than planned. The kitchen travels the full coastline: burrata, croquettes, raw dishes, wood-fired pizza, pasta, and meats from the Josper oven. It's the kind of place that doesn't try too hard, which in Abu Dhabi counts for something.

A British brasserie on Bluewaters Island where the menu runs from Scotch egg to beef Wellington, with the odd Dubai flourish, like a Welsh rarebit finished with truffle, keeping things from getting too homesick-sincere. The upper floor has a proper bar counter and cocktails named after London postcodes. Sunday roast draws the kind of families who have decided, collectively, that this is their place now.

The robata grill is the anchor here, sending skewers and smoke through a sleek, sunken dining room inside The Galleria on Al Maryah Island. Zuma is a global izakaya chain done at a register that reads more cocktail-bar-meets-fine-dining than casual Japanese, so dress accordingly. The menu splits between raw preparations and robata, holding to the format that made the brand a reliable draw for the expense-account crowd on three continents.

The walls are lined with family photos, the celebrities among them suggesting this Persian kebab spot near Al Fahidi has been feeding the right people for a long time. An old-school institution, it runs on marinated mutton, chicken, and tenderloin served over saffron rice, and the portions are generous in a way that feels almost confrontational. Communal tables, no ceremony, and prices that make you look twice at the bill.

You walk in through a tiny vinyl record shop, which sets the tone perfectly. Honeycomb Hi-Fi is a Japanese small-plates-and-cocktail bar tucked inside a hotel, all wooden paneling, midcentury chairs, and Ojas speakers doing serious work. The menu runs wagyu katsu sliders and lamb gyozas, while the bar turns out highballs with the kind of theatrical flair that makes the people around you briefly stop talking.

The wood-fired tacos here come two bites each, and the kitchen turns out around 800 of them a day, which tells you something about how seriously this beachside taco spot takes itself. Chef Shaw Lash brought a deep fluency in Mexican techniques and sourcing to Dubai, and the menu follows traditional styles she refined working in Mexican kitchens across the world. Casual, affordable, and a short walk from the beach.

Palestinian comfort food served in an old villa on Al Wasl Road, with metal platters hitting the table minutes after you order. This is the Al Manara location, the one people actually argue about, and it runs from breakfast until 1 a.m. The menu is carb-forward and unapologetically so: manakeesh, hummus, musakhan chicken rolls, grilled haloumi. Come hungry and early, or you'll be waiting in the overflow shed wondering where the evening went.

A whitewashed Greek taverna hidden in a car park basement off Sheikh Zayed Road, which sounds like a warning but lands closer to a discovery. The room runs to terra-cotta tones and an intimate, down-to-earth feel, and the menu covers the expected ground of tzatziki and souvlaki before slow-cooked suckling lamb and charred octopus make a stronger case for staying. It fills up fast at peak hours, so book ahead.

Phyllo-wrapped pies are the whole point here, made with enough butter to register on a seismograph, at this bright cafe tucked into Alserkal Avenue's arts-district sprawl. The maroon-and-stainless interior is cheerful without trying too hard, and the menu runs hearty and a little unexpected, with wagyu pastrami phyllo and pink pickled onions sitting alongside brunch pies loaded with salmon and trout caviar. The elderflower matcha is the kind of thing you order ironically and then reorder.

A restored Jumeirah villa turned into a family restaurant by a Jordanian mother and her two daughters, each handling a different corner of the operation. The sourdough uses only flour, water, and salt, which tells you something about where they stand on shortcuts. The rooms feel like someone's home because, in spirit, they are. It's the kind of place that makes restraint look easy.

A food hall perched at the foot of the Burj Khalifa, with the Dubai Fountains performing outside and cheerful pandemonium performing inside. Time Out's editors curated the vendors, so you get a credible mix of homegrown spots rather than the usual airport-court suspects. Tourists fill most of the seats, but the food holds up, and the drinks are among the more affordable you'll find anywhere in this city.