The Best Places to Drink and Do in the United States

The ferry to Sausalito leaves from Fisherman's Wharf, which means you start in the loudest possible version of San Francisco before the engine kicks in and the city quietly peels away behind you. Blue & Gold Fleet is the bay's main ferry operator, running routes to Sausalito, Oracle Park, and Chase Center. The crossing itself is the point: Coit Tower shrinking, the water coming up over the bow, the skyline doing its slow goodbye.

A retrofitted house in Madrona with a porch and backyard patio that gets claimed fast once the sun appears. Bottlehouse is a neighborhood wine bar with a range that runs from Bolivian syrah to Walla Walla grenache blanc, plus wine cocktails that pair well with whatever the resident cheesemonger is recommending. It feels more like a very well-stocked friend's place than a formal tasting room, which is exactly the point.

Bungalow is the Logan Square brewpub where the beer runs on wild yeast and the wine is made with as little intervention as the law allows. Tavern-style thin-crust pizza shows up on Tuesdays, cut in squares, but the toppings come from regional farms and the sauces wander off script. Order a pepperoni pie here and you'll feel like you've missed the point. The Beard folks named the beverage program a semifinalist in 2024.

Renzo Piano gave this natural history museum and aquarium a living roof planted entirely in native California greenery, which feels appropriate for a place that houses a rainforest, a planetarium, and a penguin colony under one roof. Kids can sleep over beneath the stars and wake up next to the fish tanks. Adults get Thursday NightLife events with DJ sets and full run of the exhibits, which is a more interesting Thursday than most.

Getting into this off-Strip speakeasy means ringing a football, which feels like a sentence from a fever dream, and then supplying a password you only get by booking ahead. A host in a vest and flat cap works the room while jazz singers handle the stage, and you can request an unlikely cover from the lounge. It's an Italian steakhouse in costume, so the red leather booths fill up with tourists.

The oldest Chinatown in North America sprawls across 30 dense blocks, and it rewards wandering on foot more than any map can promise. Tin How Temple sits quietly on a third-floor walkup, incense thick in the air while neighbors light candles and pray. A few streets over, the Golden Gate Fortune Cookie Factory folds cookies by hand amid whirring machinery. The lanterns and neon signs are as good as advertised, which almost never happens.

The Poetry Room upstairs has a sign inviting you to sit on the floor, which tells you everything about the kind of bookstore this is. City Lights has been a Beat landmark forever, the place that published Ginsberg's "Howl" and survived the obscenity trial that followed. Today it still publishes its own titles, leaning toward poetry and politics, alongside a well-stocked general floor that rewards serious browsing.

Beach Blanket Babylon ran here for 45 years, which is a long shadow to step out of. Club Fugazi has done it by turning the room into something acrobatic and immersive, with tiered table seating that keeps things intimate even when the energy runs high. The bones of a grand old North Beach theater are still very much there; the production just doesn't treat them like a museum exhibit. Good date night, good out-of-towner night, good "I forgot San Francisco is fun" night.

The instructions say to write about a bar, but the source material describes Crepe Neptune as a grab-and-go crepe and boba shop with no mention of alcohol or bar service. Writing it as a bar would misrepresent the place. Could you clarify the "Kind of entry" field, or confirm whether this should be described as a casual counter-service crepe shop?

A daisy painted on the facade of what looks like a converted lobby is all the sign you get, so consider this your heads-up. Daisy Lounge is a speakeasy tucked into a Circle C Ranch strip mall, far from the usual Downtown clusters, with built-in bookshelves, armchairs, and a multi-floor floral interior that reads more cozy library than hidden bar. The cocktail menu runs classics alongside house originals. Book ahead.

A 15-seat marble-counter cocktail bar in Edmonds where the only food on the menu is a brie and baguette platter, which turns out to be exactly what you wanted with your French 75. Textbook coupe drinks are the point: aviations, corpse revivers, the occasional off-menu jungle bird. On a Friday it's a sardine-tin singalong; on a slow Monday the counter still fills fast. The kind of neighborhood bar people immediately claim as their own.

Dark Arts is a cocktail lounge hidden behind the fireplace at Grey Witch, which means you enter by walking past some LED flames like a very polite arsonist. Inside is a hunting lodge gone gothic, with animal bones, tarot art, and dried wildflowers. The drinks lean on warming spices and herbs, and there's a deep tobacco list. It's only open a few nights a week, so check Instagram before you go knocking on hearths.

A preloaded card and a WineStation let you pour your own way through California vineyards at this wine bar and retail shop in Roswell. The self-service setup covers up to 24 samples, ranging from everyday bottles to collector-tier Napa, so the pace is entirely yours. Sommeliers and producers swing through for ticketed events, and the retail shelves go home with you after. Ideal for the crowd that finds a server hovering a little exhausting.

Dimmi Dimmi is a corner Italian spot in Lincoln Park that took over a three-decade neighborhood fixture and somehow kept the regulars from rioting. The tavern-style pizzas have crackly edges and come cut in squares, and the handmade pastas hold their own beside them. It's a sit-down dinner, so book ahead, or try your luck at a weekday lunch, which is when the people who know things tend to walk in.

A walking food tour that threads through Japantown for a couple of hours, stopping at restaurants, grocery stores, and family-run shops that most visitors walk right past. Small groups eat, drink, and hear the neighborhood's stories from guides who are plainly obsessed with the place. Japantown reads quiet from the outside, but that changes fast once you're in.

Flo & Santos is a South Loop pub that can't pick a lane, so it picked three: tavern-style thin-crust pizza, Polish comfort food, and a beer garden with daily specials. Order the pie with kielbasa and sauerkraut and a pierogi sampler on the side, and your cardiologist will lose track of the subplots. Casual, reasonably priced, and equally happy to see you in a work shirt or a ballgame jersey.

This Edgewater pizza shop does deep-dish on a sourdough crust that borrows from a Greek bread called lagana, then turns around and makes cracker-thin tavern pies from the same dough. There's barely any seating and the oven is small, so most people order online and take it home, where an uncut pizza stays crunchy. Eater has put it on its lists for deep-dish, thin-crust, and best pizza overall.

The International Orange paint, chosen partly because it makes the bridge visible through San Francisco's famous fog, is the first thing you learn at the Welcome Center before walking across. You can drive it, walk it, or rent a bike and pedal over to Sausalito for lunch. San Francisco City Guides runs free walking tours if you want the engineering backstory delivered by someone who finds suspension cables genuinely thrilling.

A drum circle can materialize next to a serene Japanese garden on the same afternoon you pedal a boat past ducks on Blue Heron Lake, which is more or less how Golden Gate Park operates. The California Academy of Sciences anchors the cultural end, with a living rainforest and an albino alligator named Claude. The 1914 carousel still spins its painted lions and dragons to carnival music, and the park band has been playing free summer concerts here since forever.

The Gothic Revival cathedral atop Nob Hill has two labyrinths, a 7,466-pipe organ, and behind-the-scenes tours that venture into spaces most visitors never see (the fine print notes heights and tight passages, which is either a warning or a selling point). Soaring arches and enormous stained glass windows do the heavy lifting architecturally, while a packed calendar of music and community events keeps the place feeling lived-in rather than merely visited.

The corner of Haight and Ashbury still draws people who want to feel the ghost of 1967, but the neighborhood has long since grown into its own thing. Painted Victorians sit alongside vintage shops, record stores, and cafés where nobody is in a hurry. The proximity to Golden Gate Park means an afternoon here tends to drift pleasantly sideways. Come for the browse, stay for the walk.

The password comes from their social media, which is either charmingly old-fashioned or exactly what a speakeasy is now. Either way, the third-floor of one of Orlando's oldest buildings is a genuinely dim, close-quarters cocktail bar where the drinks are stiff and the couples are very comfortable with each other. A small outdoor ledge offers escape when the room gets cozy. Dress the part and look like you belong.

Getting in means walking through a brightly lit sundry shop that sells newspapers and cherry blossom Kit Kats, then pushing a bookcase that leans inward to reveal a dim cocktail bar. Red lanterns glow overhead, neon tigers face off above leather booths, and the Japanese whiskey list rewards lingering. It sits in the Resorts World food hall, so expect conventioneers feeling very clever.

A neon sign reading "Good Vibes Only" hangs on the living green wall, which tells you something about the room and something about yourself for liking it anyway. This swanky sushi bar on East Colonial does Japanese with Pan-Asian riffs, and the marble bar stays busy most nights. The omakase is where the kitchen gets interesting. A James Beard nominee two years running, and a Michelin Selected pick.

Biscuits and focaccia hold the fort until afternoon, when this Midtown spot near Piedmont Park quietly pivots into a wine bar. The patio overlooking 12th Street is the reason most people linger, especially with a bottle or a vermouth cocktail and something from the tinned fish and cheese spread. It's a shape-shifting kind of place, which means the crowd skews toward people who know exactly what they're doing.

Sofa cushions, dangling bulbs, and a record player set the tone at this Georgeorgetown natural wine bar, where the bottles lining the walls are all for sale and priced like someone actually wants you to drink them. The pours run funky, orange, unfiltered, and nothing near a Columbia Valley pinot, and the staff will talk you through all of it with genuine enthusiasm. Loretta's next door does burgers; the two go together better than you'd expect.

Cocktail names like "Stay the Fuck Outta Malibu" tell you more about the room than any décor description could. This cocktail bar shares a wall with Will's Pub and the self-described metal tiki bar next door, and the crowd arrives ready to argue about politics between rounds of rotating seasonal drinks. The rooms are oddly shaped and a little dingy, with French Provincial details that got lost along the way, which somehow makes the whole thing work.

The bar at London Chop House sits underground in the Financial District, dimly lit enough that you'll swear it's still 1985 and someone's about to close a deal on a handshake. It's a proper cocktail bar with martinis, gimlets, and Negronis that nudge the classics sideways, plus a cigar and billiards room attached. Dress like you have an expense account, even if the ghosts of the three-martini lunch are the only ones who do.

The coastal redwoods here top 250 feet, and standing under them has a way of making whatever you were anxious about feel appropriately small. This 558-acre national monument northwest of San Francisco holds one of the last ancient redwood groves in the Bay Area, with about six miles of trails winding past Cathedral Grove and along Redwood Creek. Serious hikers can push into adjacent Mount Tamalpais State Park when the trees aren't enough.

The unmarked door is the whole point. Tucked behind the sushi counter at the Venetian, this speakeasy bar keeps a low profile by design, with a full bar, ube espresso martinis, and snacks that skew sharper than the hand rolls out front. Convention-goers grabbing a boxed set to-go have no idea it's back there, which is more or less how the regulars prefer it.

Columbus Avenue moves at the pace of a neighborhood that has been arguing, pleasantly, about whether to have another espresso since the Beat poets were still alive. North Beach is San Francisco's Italian quarter by heritage, literary enclave by reputation, and genuinely pleasant afternoon by default. Sidewalk cafés, old-school red-sauce spots, and City Lights bookstore orbit Washington Square Park, with Chinatown a short walk when you need a change of scene.

This Pilsen pizza-and-coffee spot wears its owners' Filipino and Mexican roots on the crust, most memorably with longganisa and giardiniera together on a tavern-style pie. The menu includes pan pies and slices, plus coffee drinks from the people behind Side Practice, so you can have breakfast and dinner in one visit. It tends to sell out, which is the polite way of saying go early and bring a plan B.

The dugout smells exactly how you'd imagine, and standing in it during a behind-the-scenes tour of Oracle Park is a small, strange thrill even for people who don't follow baseball. The San Francisco Giants' waterfront stadium runs guided tours year-round, covering the field, press box, and the World Series trophies. The pregame add-on gets you in before the gates open, which is when the place actually feels like yours.

String lights, happy green plants, and shelves of natural wine with wacky labels set the tone at this Columbia City aperitivo bar and bottle shop. It lives next door to Italian restaurant La Medusa, which means a lot of people wander in for a quick pre-dinner drink and end up staying. The chalkboard runs deep on amari and bitter red spritzes, with prosecco for anyone who prefers their aperitivo without the herbal lecture.

A speakeasy above a pho shop is a concept that earns its own zip code, and Phocific Standard Time delivers on the premise. The Vietnamese coffee martini has become a reason people climb the stairs specifically, but the bar snacks, caramelized crab dip with sesame saltines among them, make lingering easy. Named one of The Infatuation's most fun Seattle bars, it's a cocktail bar that happens to pair very well with whatever you just had downstairs.

Pizz'amici is a tavern-style pizza shop in West Town, where the thin, cracker-crisp crust gets charred on the bottom and cut into squares. It's a nostalgic room with a pepperoni Negroni on the menu, plus tall focaccia and sausage and peppers for the old-school completists. Tables go quickly, so plan ahead or order carryout, which is easier than winning the lottery and only slightly less crowded.

Pizza Matta is a small Logan Square pizzeria from the team behind Giant and Chef's Special, which tells you the people running it have opinions about pie. You build your own 16-inch pizza from red, white, or green sauce, then pile on things like mortadella or caramelized pineapple, no judgment. Seating is limited, so order online and take the whole project home. Eater has it on its list of Chicago's tavern-style thin-crust spots.