The Best Places in the United States

Inside the Hauser & Wirth arts complex in the Arts District, Manuela is a restaurant and bar where conceptual art hangs on the walls and the cooking tilts Southern with a serious commitment to local ingredients, some grown in their own garden. Cocktails use house-made bitters and tonics, and the food is the kind that makes a gallery crowd linger well past closing time.

The sunchoke doughnuts with XO gouda are reportedly un-removable from the menu, which tells you something about this Davis Square wine bar. The list leans toward small producers and natural winemakers, and the staff actually know it. Small plates from the kitchen are the kind of thing a food scientist might dream up on a generous budget. A James Beard Outstanding Bar semifinalist for 2026.

The bar is in the basement, which is the point. The Drifter is a tiny subterranean cocktail lounge tucked beneath the Green Door Tavern, a speakeasy in the old sense of the word, not just the aesthetic. Low ceilings, dim light, and the general feeling that you've wandered somewhere you weren't supposed to find. The kind of place where a well-made drink tastes better simply because you had to descend a staircase to get it.

Lines form before the doors open at this specialty seafood counter, which tells you most of what you need to know. Faroe Island salmon, live sea urchin, razor clams, and whatever else flew in that morning fill the case alongside premium tinned fish and prepared foods. The shop insists it isn't a restaurant, then sells poke banh mi and sashimi boxes to go. Wednesday's lobster roll has its own cult.

Getting to this inn requires a ferry, which is either a dealbreaker or the entire point. The island has no cars to speak of, and the inn leans into that with no TVs or phones in the rooms, just vintage furniture, local art, and views. Bikes, tennis, golf, and charter boats fill the days, and the restaurant runs on lobster, mussels, and produce from nearby farms. Selected by the Michelin Guide.

Sitting at the base of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort's aerial tram, this hotel in Teton Village is built around the assumption that you'll be outside most of the day. The 87 rooms keep things purposeful: warm oak, charcoal walls, Navajo-print textiles, and mountain photography that reminds you why you came. Wild Pine handles dinner, Unravel does coffee, and the outdoor pool and hot tub handle whatever the mountain did to your legs. Skiers in winter, hikers and bikers all summer.

The Mission-style archway and stone lobby fireplace survived the restoration of Ojai's oldest hotel, which is the right call. El Roblar is a 50-room boutique hotel spread across a main building, private garden bungalows, and a newer Sycamore House wing, all done in warm earthy tones with locally sourced art on the walls. It sits right on Ojai Avenue, so the valley is essentially your front yard.

Jackson Hole has spent years avoiding the Aspen trap, all luxury condos and designer boutiques, which makes Hotel Terra feel like a small act of rebellion in reverse. It's a stylish, design-forward hotel sitting in the village, and it stands out precisely because the town around it never bothered dressing up. The Michelin Guide selects it, and the surrounding mountain landscape does most of the heavy lifting on atmosphere.

A 125-room hotel rising 18 stories above downtown Fargo, the Jasper leans into the region's Scandinavian roots with Nordic-inflected design and a quiet emphasis on coziness that feels less like a mood board and more like a considered choice. The on-site restaurant, Rosewild, serves Plains-sourced food shaped by Nordic technique, which is either a natural fit or a very good argument that it always should have been. The Michelin Guide includes it among its selected hotels.

The trail network runs right through the property, so you can be on a bike or in hiking boots before the coffee from Entrada Cafe kicks in. LOGE Bend is an adventure-focused hotel on the road to Mt. Bachelor, pitched at the mountain-biker-and-ski-bum crowd but unfussy enough for families. Rooms are stylish without being precious, rentals cover skis and snowshoes, and a fleet of cruiser bikes is free for guests.

Every room has a private balcony overlooking Lake Mangonia, which sets the tone pretty quickly at this British Caribbean-inflected resort about ten minutes from Palm Beach. The spa runs a private saltwater pool and eucalyptus steam rooms alongside something called vibroacoustic relaxation therapy, which sounds made-up until you're lying in it. Guests can also access a Jack Nicklaus-designed golf course, the first new private links in the area in decades.

Bentonville has been quietly having a moment, and this boutique hotel leans into both sides of it. Ozark limestone runs through the public spaces; the rooms go warmer, woodier, and modernist without feeling like a showroom. There's a Tuscan steakhouse and a craft cocktail lounge on site, and a cycling concierge who can outfit you for the hundreds of miles of trails starting practically outside the door.

Eight rooms in Oregon wine country, with platform beds, hardwood floors, and modernist furnishings that feel more boutique hotel than barn conversion. A European-style breakfast arrives at your door before you head out to the vineyards. The bocce court and croquet lawn look out over farmland in every direction, which makes the whole setup feel a little surreal, in the best, quietest possible way.

A six-room B&B in a Colonial-era house that has Ralph Waldo Emerson quotes on the walls, which is either charming or a lot depending on your relationship with transcendentalism. The inn has been around forever and shows it in the best way: pine floors from the original build, original architectural details, and modern bathrooms that know when to stay quiet. Breakfast, a lending library, and an honor bar round out the thoughtful extras.

A compact caviar and seafood bar just off the Caesars Palace casino floor, where Pringles arrive with caviar French onion dip and nobody blinks. The real trick is a life-sized portrait of a sailing captain that swings open onto a purple-and-turquoise room with a stage, hosting yacht rock nights and karaoke. Expect smoked Old Fashioneds, espresso martinis, and strangers committing to "I Will Always Love You."

The entrance is a walk-in freezer at the back of a Downtown ice cream shop, which is the kind of plot twist a Las Vegas cocktail bar can get away with. On the other side is an Old Hollywood-style hideaway serving movie-themed drinks, some arriving in milk pint glasses. You can also roll a pair of dice and let the bartenders improvise around your fate. Dress for a drink, not a sundae.

Past a door that makes very little effort to hide, this cave-like cocktail bar sits behind a taco spot in a busy Chinatown plaza. The drinks lean loud: tequila infused with Flamin' Hot Cheetos, mezcal with chamoy, a margarita lightened with a splash of Corona. The kitchen next door keeps the snacks coming, birria ramen included, so nobody has to leave the cave hungry.

The Underground is a Prohibition-themed speakeasy tucked beneath the Mob Museum, and yes, there's a daily password, which the museum's website will hand over to anyone who asks nicely. The brick walls double as a 1920s exhibit hall, with flapper outfits and a cocktail kit hidden in a briefcase. It also runs its own working moonshine distillery, so the bootlegging is technically legal, which is the one disappointing part.

Wax Rabbit is a speakeasy tucked behind a tequila cellar at the Durango resort, and getting in means finding the right miniature rabbit among the many on display and pulling it like a lever. Past the door, everything is red, a DJ spins vinyl from blues to 2000s throwbacks, and the guava-and-strega Hidden Passion arrives in a pineapple-shaped glass. Eater and The Infatuation both keep it on their hidden-bar lists.

The bungalows come with their own infinity pool, direct beach access, and a dedicated host, which sets the tone for what this Ritz-Carlton resort is going for. It sits on Oahu's North Shore, far enough from Waikiki to feel like a different island entirely. The activity menu runs to around 70 options, from ukulele workshops to after-dark snorkeling, so the outdoorsy guests will never run out of things to sign up for.

The Beaux-Arts clocktower has watched the Bay Area's commute patterns change completely, and the building just quietly became a food hall and farmers' market instead. Nearly 100 growers and vendors ring the plaza on Saturdays, with smaller markets midweek. Inside, the stalls run from coffee to chocolate to pantry staples you'll absolutely overpack into your carry-on. It rewards slow wandering over a decisive plan.

A working fireplace in most of the eight rooms sets the tone at this small luxury inn in Westchester County, where rustic and polished coexist without apologizing to each other. Guests choose from five room configurations, some with terraces looking out over lawns and woods. The Bedford Post Tavern hums along on-site, and there's even a yoga studio that somehow doesn't feel tacked on.

A renovated Seventies motor lodge turned adults-only boutique hotel on the Russian River, where Guerneville plays reluctant host to San Francisco weekenders seeking something more considered than a cabin rental. Modern-rustic rooms lean into the setting without going full Pottery Barn, a few come with vintage Malm fireplaces, and the spa has a saltwater pool. Breakfast arrives at your door, which is the only morning routine that makes sense out here.

The canal-side waterfront residences sit across the water from the historic inn rooms and hillside garden cottages, which tells you this place has a lot going on. An old-school Hampton Bays inn that's been brought back with modern amenities and genuine East End polish, it suits quiet escapes and big group weekends equally. Good Ground Tavern, the first Hamptons outpost from Union Square Events, runs a Cherrywood grill and easy happy hours on-site.

Refurbished Airstream trailers and a tiny house arranged in a semi-circle around a botanical garden, which is about as on-brand for Ojai as a sound bath at sunset. This small, bohemian trailer hotel sits in the Topatopa Mountains between Los Angeles and Santa Barbara, each unit with a private outdoor nook, and a few with hammocks slung between palms. The crowd comes for hiking, galleries, and spiritual retreats, and leaves smelling faintly of sage.

The original building on a sprawling 200-acre Boca estate, the Cloister was designed by Addison Mizner with the kind of Spanish Mediterranean flourish that makes everything feel vaguely like a palazzo. Dark-wood rooms and hidden garden enclaves sit steps from the property's main dining and shopping cluster, the Rockwell-designed Palm Court bar, and a 50,000-square-foot Moorish spa that takes the Alhambra references very seriously. Old-money Florida, with a membership that acts accordingly.

Three geothermal pools fed by natural hot springs anchor this mid-century motel in Desert Hot Springs, twenty minutes outside Palm Springs proper. The name isn't clever branding; the springs predate the golf courses and the architecture pilgrims by a long stretch. Rooms wrap around the pools in classic roadside motel fashion, which means the whole thing feels like a very good idea someone had in 1955 and nobody has improved upon since.

Sarasota isn't exactly where you'd expect to find raw concrete and built-in minimalist storage, but here we are. Kompose is a boutique hotel on University Parkway that skips the tropical pastels entirely, leaning into an industrial-chic aesthetic instead. There's a pool, sauna, fitness center, café, and bar, plus a podcast studio for guests who apparently travel with an audience.

A spring-fed pool heated by the earth itself sets the tone at this nine-room boutique hotel in Desert Hot Springs, halfway between Joshua Tree and Palm Springs. The mid-century bones have been around forever, though the interior has softened toward warm, organic textures over time. A small spa rounds things out. The Michelin Guide has it among its selected hotels, which tracks for a place this quietly sure of itself.

Point Reyes sits less than two hours from San Francisco but feels like a genuinely different world, which is the whole point of staying here. Olema House is a small 24-room lodge on the coastal highway, freshly renovated and one of very few places to sleep in the area. Marin County keeps tourist infrastructure deliberately sparse, so a comfortable base this close to the wild headlands and seascapes of Point Reyes fills a real gap.

The dunes outside the window make it feel like the edge of the map, even though Carmel is just a short drive south. This Monterey Bay resort keeps things low-slung and unfussy from the outside, then turns quietly luxurious once you're in, with gas fireplaces doing honest work on foggy coastal nights. Salt Wood Kitchen handles the seafood-forward meals. Beach yoga, a heated pool, and a spa round things out.

Five acres in Amagansett, which sits just past East Hampton for those who find East Hampton a little much. The Reform Club is a small luxury inn where the smallest room in the main house is a suite, cottages offer more seclusion, and a four-bedroom residence handles groups wanting to pretend they live here. Bvlgari amenities, owners' artwork on the walls, Pilates on the schedule. The Meeting House feeds guests and locals alike, which keeps it from feeling sealed off.

A barn and a cluster of 17th and 18th century cottages, beautifully preserved outside and quietly gutted into something minimalist and linen-forward within. This small hotel sits a mile inland from the beach on two pastoral acres, which makes it the anti-Hamptons Hamptons option, no oceanfront scene to perform for. Frette sheets, Matouk towels, Nespresso on the counter, old bones with a very considered interior. The Michelin Guide lists it among its selected hotels.

A boutique bed and breakfast on Woodstock's main drag, Twin Gables keeps a well-preserved Victorian exterior but drops any interest in period charm the moment you walk through the door. Inside, bold colors and graphic art fill rooms that share no common aesthetic with each other. Not every room has a private bathroom, and the ones that do book fast on weekends, so plan accordingly.

Bluetooth turntables stocked with actual records sit in every room at this boutique hotel, which feels like a fair summary of Woodstock's relationship with the past. The compound reads as its own little world despite being in the middle of town: modern lines, rustic textures, heated bathroom floors, colorful art. The Tannery café handles coffee and not much more, but the town is right there and seems happy to help.

The smartest move Accomplice ever made was opening next to Taiwanese restaurant Little Fatty, so when the cocktails do their work, crab rangoon and shrimp chips are one door away. It's a moody cocktail bar in Mar Vista where the drinks lean into unexpected flavors, Japanese whiskey and oolong sharing space with goji berry and ginger. The 50 Discovery named it among their finds, which tracks.

An old tavern in Bucks County farm country, about an hour from Philadelphia, that has been turned into a boutique hotel without being stripped of its bones. The building has been around forever, and the team has leaned into that with a modern-retro style that's theatrical without tipping into theme park. Good for a weekend when the city stops making sense and you need a road that narrows before it gets quiet.

Shiplap walls, tapestries over the beds, and a vibe that reads surf hippie without trying too hard. This Montauk motel has been in the Daunt family for generations, and it wears that history lightly, skewing more beach-cottage cool than anything the word "motel" usually promises. Sandy feet are the dress code, the on-site restaurant The Bird has been here forever, and the Michelin Guide has taken notice of the whole operation.

The Graduate brand has a formula: find a college town with a forgettable hotel scene and replace it with something that actually knows where it is. In Annapolis, home to the Naval Academy and St. John's College, that means a colorful, niche-focused hotel that wears its setting without apology. The Michelin Guide has it in their Selected Hotels list, which tracks.

A boutique hotel carved out of an 1885 estate in Leesburg, a town that once hid the National Archives and later became a quiet retreat for Washington's political class. Fireplaces anchor multiple suites, the Rooftop Suite has its own outdoor terrace above the roofline, and the in-house restaurant runs a hunt-inspired dinner menu. Loudoun County's vineyards and equestrian estates spread out just beyond town.

A French Revival mansion on a sprawling private estate that a prominent local family eventually decided to share with the rest of us. Hotel Hartness is a luxury boutique hotel sitting inside that former family home, surrounded by 180 acres of preserved green space, which makes it feel less like checking into a hotel and more like being a very welcome houseguest at someone else's inheritance.

An 1890s Victorian mansion in Tannersville that has been stripped of its Victorian earnestness and refilled with modernist design pieces and rotating work by contemporary New York artists. The 18-room boutique hotel sits in the Catskills at a moment when the region is trading resort sprawl for something smaller and stranger. The result reads less like a period restoration and more like a well-curated apartment where the art keeps changing.

Fifteen acres of Texas Hill Country outside Dripping Springs, where your options range from a yurt to a full four-bedroom Ranch House depending on how many people you're avoiding or inviting. This boutique retreat leans rural without apology: modern-rustic cabins, Porch Houses with wraparound porches and kitchenettes, a bathhouse and pool, and enough nearby wineries and breweries to fill a long weekend without much effort.

Sand between your toes is apparently a design philosophy here, not just an oversight. Marram is a 96-room resort in Montauk built around the idea that "barefoot luxury" is a complete sentence, leaning into the town's old surfer looseness rather than polishing it away. Yoga, craft workshops, and weathered-cool décor all pull in the same direction. The in-house restaurant from a Uruguayan chef does seafood and is worth your attention.

Six championship golf courses occupy a resort that could easily have stopped there and called it a day. PGA National in Palm Beach Gardens is a full-scale luxury resort: 339 rooms, a 40,000-square-foot spa, a racquet club, and enough restaurants and bars that non-golfers can book a week and never feel like they wandered into someone else's trip. The Michelin Guide lists it among its selected hotels.

Narragansett has been a surf town forever, but The Break is its first boutique hotel, and it plays the part without reaching for rope coils and ship wheels. Rooms lean mid-century surf-shack instead, many with balconies and gas fireplaces, all with rain showers. There's a pool, a small spa, a bistro downstairs, and a rooftop lounge. The actual surf is a few blocks away, which is either a selling point or a warning, depending on your skill level.

Each of the four suites at this Woodstock inn is named for a rock and roll matriarch, so you're essentially choosing between Aretha, Carole, Joni, and Stevie. It's a small, sustainably minded boutique hotel with clawfoot tubs, wood-paneled bathrooms, and private patios throughout. Bikes and a hot tub are shared by all guests. Two suites welcome dogs, which feels on-brand for a place that already has strong opinions about who deserves to be on the walls.

Three thousand five hundred acres in Rhode Island, which sounds like a typo until you're fly fishing or clay shooting before noon. The Preserve is a wilderness resort built around outdoor pursuits, with lodging that runs from contemporary townhouses to off-grid tiny homes. Evenings go to cedar hot tubs and the spa. The country's longest indoor shooting range is here, which is either the selling point or the detail that makes you call a different hotel.

Crescent Beach sits right outside the door here, with Peconic Bay stretching out beyond it, and the Pridwin has been around forever. It reads more like an Adirondack lodge than a beach resort, which is either confusing or exactly right depending on your mood. The 49 rooms and scattered cottages have been renovated to keep the old bones while adding a cleaner, more considered feel. Shelter Island itself requires a ferry, which keeps the crowds honest.

Tropical Modernist design from Virserius Studio gives this Curio Collection boutique hotel a cleaner, less fussy look than the Art Deco crowd down in Miami. Rooms are crisp and contemporary with relaxed, eclectic touches. The fitness program runs to boxing classes and personal training, three restaurants include a rooftop lounge, and Michelin-starred Akira Back runs the modern Japanese kitchen downstairs.

A freshly overhauled resort on East Atlantic Avenue, the Seagate spans a beach club, an 18-hole golf course, and a spa across Delray Beach. The 157 rooms lean into handcrafted coastal details and locally commissioned art. Michael Mina's Bourbon Steak handles the serious dinner crowd, while Mr. Seas covers the oceanside fare and the Venetian Street Hotel Bar keeps things Italian-inflected for after. The Michelin Guide has it among its selected hotels.

Fried chicken and Champagne share a menu at this retro-glam bowling lounge off Roosevelt Row, which tells you most of what you need to know about its vibe. A handful of lanes, a circular bar, pool tables, and DJs make it more of a night out that happens to involve bowling than the other way around. Sushi and nachos cover the snacking spread. Dress accordingly, because the decor is very much meant to be photographed.

A plain wooden door down a sketchy Belltown alley opens into a speakeasy-style cocktail bar that fits maybe thirty people across two floors. Upstairs, the intimate bar puts you shoulder-to-shoulder with shelves stacked with cocktail books. The menu runs to eight drinks, but the move is Dealer's Choice: name your spirit, name your mood, and let the bartender figure out the rest.

Birch-paneled walls and deep green accents make it feel like the forest wandered indoors, which was clearly the point. Bluebird Cady Hill is a 55-room boutique hotel on Mountain Road, a redesigned riff on Stowe's old roadside lodges with considerably better taste in décor. Mt. Mansfield is minutes away, the Cady Hill trails are practically at the door, and the après-ski mood sticks around even when there's no ski to après.

A seventies ski lodge reborn as a boutique hotel at the base of Hunter Mountain, Bluebird leans into the fantasy of upstate New York without overselling it. The look splits the difference between retro summer camp and crisp contemporary design, with comforts that feel genuinely luxurious without tipping into fussy. Hunter Tavern keeps the hearty modern-rustic food you'd want after a day outside. A Michelin Selected Hotel, and the city crowd has clearly noticed.

The bullet holes in the walls are original, and so is the escape route through the ladies' lavatory. This Tenderloin cocktail bar started life as a Prohibition speakeasy, complete with a trapdoor and password, and neither gimmick has been retired. The 1920s painted wallpaper and marble staircase survived intact, and you still need the password to get in, which is either charming or exhausting depending on your mood.

Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with bottles replace the books here, and the ladders are real. This TriBeCa spirits bar has made brandy its organizing principle, stocking vintage Armagnacs, Cognacs, and plum brandies from corners of the world most bars have never considered. Whisky and rum fill the gaps, the cocktail list runs a hundred drinks deep, and the staff who climb those ladders to fetch your bottle know exactly what they're doing.

The zinc-topped bar inside the Ace Hotel is where Jeffrey Morgenthaler built his reputation, and Portland's cocktail crowd hasn't forgotten it. Clyde Common is technically a big, open dining hall, but the bar runs the show here, with vintage stools filling up fast under a double-height ceiling loud with conversation. The food is genuinely good, but nobody's coming just for dinner.

Ten luxury tents on a thousand acres of ranchland a few miles west of Vail, open summer through early fall only. Each tent comes with rain showers, wood-burning stoves, and enough plush linens to make you forget you're camping, which is sort of the point. The lodge handles breakfast and dinner, from a self-grilled BBQ setup to a full tasting menu. Horseback rides, fly-fishing, and mountain biking fill the days; actual Vail is thirty minutes if you need it.

Forty-five Craftsman bungalows spread across 1,700 acres in the Santa Cruz Mountain foothills, each with a fireplace and a soaking tub, most looking out over fairways or valley. This is a full-on golf resort with Robert Trent Jones Jr.'s championship course as the centerpiece, though the One Iron Bar and its martini list have a way of making the back nine feel optional. Il Vigneto handles Californian cooking with produce from the surrounding region.

Lark Hotels planted a modernist, color-forward boutique hotel in one of New England's most resolutely traditional ski towns, and somehow it fits. Field Guide reads less like a rebellion against Stowe's cozy-inn heritage than a cheerful argument with it: bright, contemporary design where you'd usually expect exposed beams and plaid. The kind of place that draws guests who came for the mountain but wouldn't be caught dead in a lodge aesthetic.

Tucked into Mandarin Plaza on Broadway, this contemporary Chinese American restaurant and bar is the project of a first-generation chef cooking his own story onto the plate. The cocktail program is serious enough to earn national bartender recognition, so start there before the food arrives. Dishes are built for sharing, the kitchen is open to the room, and the whole setup feels more like a dinner party than a transaction.