The Best Places in the United States

Extended-stay hotel near Cumberland Mall and the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Centre, with room options that run from standard guestrooms up to two-bedroom suites with full kitchens. The outdoor patio with a gas fireplace and BBQ grills gives the place a slightly more residential feel than the average airport-adjacent chain. Quiet location, EV chargers in the lot, and a AAA Three Diamond rating for guests who like a baseline guarantee.

A downtown Reno dive bar named for the highway that used to run through town, with old signs, vintage photos, and the occasional auto part on the walls. Out back, a fire pit sits beside a silver Airstream that turns out soup dumplings and bao after 5 p.m. There's pool, live music, karaoke, and a house ritual involving steak seasoning, Jameson, and Worcestershire. Dress for a bar, not a brunch.

A café in the old Astro space that kept the soufflé egg sandwich on brioche on the menu, because the neighborhood would have revolted. Coffee comes from Anthology in Eastern Market and Grand Coffee Roasters in San Francisco, and the café de olla, made with piloncillo and canela, is the kind of order that makes you feel slightly smug about your choices. Handmade journals from a local printmaker line the shelves for those who pretend they'll journal more.

Alpino is a Corktown dinner spot dressed as an Alpine ski lodge, with a stone fireplace at the center and no mountain within several hundred miles. The menu wanders through Austria and the neighboring French, German, Italian, and Swiss kitchens, and the team makes its own bread, pasta, and sausage. It was a James Beard semifinalist for Best New Restaurant. Reserve ahead, especially if you're angling for the summer patio.

Arario is a second-floor Korean restaurant in Midtown where the portions run large and the pickled banchan arrives whether you asked or not. The menu splits between traditional dishes and fusion, which is how a bulgogi cheesesteak and a Korean Loco Moco with black bean gravy end up on the same page. There's room for big groups, a terrace for decent weather, and a Negroni made with Japanese gin, because why not.

Barbacana is a chef-driven dinner spot in the Bayou Lofts where the menu keeps changing and borrows from African, Middle Eastern, and Japanese cooking, with Texas ingredients holding it together. You can order a la carte and share a spread, or commit to the tasting menu. The counter overlooks the kitchen, which suits anyone who likes watching someone else be under pressure. Dress nicely, bring a few friends.

Beaujolais Bistro is a proper French bistro in a vintage brick building on a leafy corner near the Truckee River, where tables sometimes spill into the front yard for what passes as a dinner party under the stars. Big groups get the moody wine cellar, and the list leans Burgundy with a few Napa bottles on standby. It holds AAA Three Diamonds and a spot on Eater's Reno list.

Beloved's Bread is a bakery-cafe south of Midtown, where the first sign you've arrived is a patient line outside, obeying a posted rule that only six people may be inside at once. The loaves run from sourdough to Japanese milk bread and a proper pretzel, and the cafe turns to eggs in the morning and sirloin burgers later. Order at the counter, eat on the move, and keep an eye on your place in line.

Casale's Halfway Club is a red-sauce Italian joint with checkered tablecloths, and you can still spot old bedroom doorframes in the dining room from when the family lived here. Meatballs lean on breadcrumbs, lasagna is baked to order in single portions, and the ravioli comes split between meat and cheese. Reno regulars treat it as home, the dive label is optional, and Mama Inez is spoken of the way other towns speak of saints.

Cosmo's is a casual wood-fired pizza spot in a former funeral home, which is the kind of backstory the name does nothing to prepare you for. You order at the counter, and the pies arrive stacked on a tomato can. The roasted vegetables, a whole cauliflower and harissa carrots, keep pace with the pizza, and the soft-serve flavor rotates monthly. Solo diners get the small bar, where a draft Negroni helps.

Folk is a Corktown cafe that doubles as a bottle shop, so you can order a turmeric chai latte and leave with a bottle of biodynamic wine without anyone finding it strange. The brunch menu leans toward biscuits and waffle sandwiches, and the pantry shelves favor makers from the neighborhood and beyond. Seating is limited indoors, so the patio fills first. The wine program was a James Beard semifinalist in 2024.

Frank's is a downtown slice shop near Market Square Park, built for the hours when everything else has closed and your judgment has too. The slices are New York-style and wide enough to require a fold, with dough and sauce made fresh each day. The specialty pies lean Texan, like boudin and bacon or a fajita-and-jalapeño number, though plain cheese and pepperoni still do most of the work. Order at the counter, eat standing.

This is a members-only Irish club in Corktown, though "members-only" here means paying a small annual fee, collecting a card, and ordering a pint of Guinness. The dim room, dark wooden bar, and decor have stayed put so long they've circled back into style. Whiskey, beer, and community events fill the calendar, so the vibe is closer to a neighborhood living room than a pub with a theme. Eater lists it among Corktown's best.

House of Mandi is a Yemeni restaurant in the Gaslamp where you eat on red-and-black floor sofas at low tables, under murals of Sana's brick towers. It's the San Diego branch of an Anaheim original from Little Arabia, and the halal menu runs on slow-cooked lamb, including a haneeth that's traditionally cooked underground. Wear socks you're proud of, and bring people who'll share a platter.

Huntress is a multi-level steakhouse in the Gaslamp, where dinner comes with a soundtrack and the nightlife seems to have been invited to the table. The menu runs from dry-aged porterhouse to tomahawks and Japanese A5 wagyu, with a seafood side for the one person who doesn't want steak. The bar pours whiskey flights from around the world, and the mushroom-shaped dessert is built for two, so plan accordingly.

The robata grill runs hot at this casual Japanese izakaya in Midtown, turning out skewers and karaage alongside udon in deep, earthy broths. The cocktail list is robust enough to justify lingering, and the raw fish plates give the kitchen a chance to show some range. The chef was a James Beard semifinalist in 2023, which tracks with a menu that does comfort and precision in the same breath without making a fuss about it.

Hand-rolled soba noodles are the reason to come to this small, wood-trimmed Japanese noodle shop tucked into Fremont. The chef learned the technique from her grandmother and then kept going, pairing the buckwheat noodles with foie gras tofu or tempura-fried Oreos alongside the classics. A James Beard nominee, and the kind of place that earns a long wait without making any fuss about it.

This is a casual Mexican cantina in the middle of the Gaslamp, where the house ceviche arrives with shrimp, cucumber, and avocado in a spicy serrano sauce. The rest of the menu runs the familiar route of tacos, enchiladas, and carne asada, with a mojito that comes in spicy mango. Happy hour covers every Monday and the afternoons after that, which suits a neighborhood where nobody pays full price for a margarita on purpose.

Kokoro lives inside Bravery Chef Hall downtown, where the team from Uchi turned a food-hall counter into a sushi and yakitori spot that manages to feel genuinely relaxed without the studied casualness of a place trying to prove a point. Nigiri and maki share the menu with grilled yakitori and chicken fat rice. The crowd eating standing up at the counter is not doing it ironically; the food just moves fast.

Kulture is a sit-down comfort food restaurant steps from the George R. Brown Convention Center, where Caribbean and Southern cooking share one menu and nobody makes them fight about it. Gumbo opens things, there's an oxtail melt, and brunch gets theatrical with crab-topped catfish and grits. Happy hour runs all day on Astros home game days, which is a generous reading of the word "hour."

Kwok's Bistro is a casual, stand-alone Cantonese-leaning Chinese restaurant just west of the big downtown casinos, which is about as far from a buffet as Reno gets. The chef, a former casino busboy, takes days to prepare the Beijing duck, so ordering it is a commitment. Wok-fired dishes lean on garlic and ginger, and the lamb brings real heat. The chef was a James Beard Best Chef: Southwest semifinalist.

The line out the door on South 2nd is the most honest review you'll find. This Williamsburg slice shop has a counter, a few standing ledges, and pizza makers working in plain sight from dough to oven. The crust is thin, crisp, and taken seriously. 50 Top Pizza ranked it the top slice shop in the country, and the New York Times put it on their short list too. Order, pay, wait for your name, eat standing up. That's the whole deal.

La Condesa is a Mexican fusion restaurant in a former car repair shop on Wells Avenue, where the roll-up garage doors now open onto a patio courtyard. The menu wanders freely, with crab mac and cheese, Kobe beef ravioli, and a steakburger stacked with pork belly. Hand-painted murals share the walls with celebrity mug shots, and the pop hits on the video screen suit the cocktails, which skip the sugary syrup.

This Gaslamp patisserie lets you do France on a lunch break: grab a croissant at the counter and keep walking, or sit down for a quiche Lorraine or a crêpe folded around Nutella and strawberries. The cases are lined with macarons, and the iced coffees come in flavors like coconut and cinnamon brown sugar, which is not how anyone in Lyon takes their coffee. Dress is whatever got you through the Gaslamp.

Liberty started as a butcher shop and sandwich counter, and the meat is still broken down in the basement, from a ranch down in Minden, before it meets the wood-fired oven upstairs. It's a casual downtown Reno restaurant a few steps from the Riverwalk, where black-and-white photos of 1980s celebrities watch over the dining room. Mark Estee runs it, and he's about as close as Reno gets to a local celebrity chef.

Missy Robbins runs an open kitchen inside a former car body shop in East Williamsburg, which tells you something about the bones of the room before a single plate arrives. Lilia is the kind of Italian pasta restaurant where everything is handmade and the mafaldini with pink peppercorns has turned regulars into a kind of informal cult. The New York Times gave it three stars, and a James Beard semifinalist nod followed.

A two-level seafood restaurant in the Pendry Hotel, where the Gaslamp's night-out dinner crowd comes dressed for it and the menu leans on sustainable fish. Sushi-bar nigiri and oysters make an easy opening act, and the real commitment is a whole grilled fish or a wagyu tomahawk the size of a toddler's arm. Reserve ahead, because everyone else already thought of this.

Counter-service seafood in Fremont, where the chef sources directly from local fisheries, a supply-chain headache most spots at this price point don't bother with. The menu reads like Pacific Northwest bar food done with actual conviction: rockfish banh mi, salmon teriyaki, home fries tangled with smoked cod. The crab roll on a split-top bun comes out only on weekends, so plan accordingly. The New York Times put it on their Seattle list, which tracks.

Lou & Mickey's is a Gaslamp steakhouse with a lounge attached, built on the idea that a chophouse should still look like a chophouse. The beef gets aged in-house for a month, and the menu runs from grass-fed rib-eye to Japanese wagyu, with halibut and clam linguine for anyone dragged along against their will. It holds AAA Three Diamonds, so expect an expense-account dinner, not a quick bite before the ballgame.

This is a Basque restaurant in an old three-story hotel building, where dinner arrives as a parade: soup, salad, beans, fries, bread, and a glass of house wine, with a main course somewhere in the middle. Strangers share long tables, so you'll make friends whether or not you were planning to. Most people order the Picon Punch, a brandy-and-grenadine thing in a bell-shaped glass, and nobody tries to talk them out of it.

Lumi is a rooftop restaurant in the Gaslamp where Akira Back's Nikkei cooking, Japanese technique with Peruvian instincts, comes with downtown views and fire pits. Wagyu gets cooked tableside on hot stones, so dinner doubles as supervised arts and crafts. A highball machine handles the drinks, a mystery box handles the decisions, and on Mondays you can get a discount if you can prove you live in San Diego.

A Greek restaurant in the Gaslamp that mostly skips the blue-and-white postcard act in favor of California-leaning Mediterranean plates and portions sized for a table that's still arguing about who's driving. Someone usually flambés shrimp in ouzo beside your chair, which counts as dinner and a show. There's a patio for watching Gaslamp foot traffic and a happy hour that runs Sunday through Friday afternoons.

Mink is an oyster and tinned seafood bar in Corktown where the shuckers are the floor show, so grab a seat at the counter and watch them work. It's small and low-key, the sort of place a first date can pretend was casual all along. You can graze on oysters from around the country, or book the monthly five-course tasting menu, which reads like a church potluck that went to culinary school.

Mudgie's is a Corktown sandwich counter and wine shop, which is a combination that sounds like a compromise and works like a plan. The big patio gets a seasonal tiki bar and live music in summer, and Sundays bring a brunch menu where the sandwiches show up wearing fried eggs. It's casual, order-at-the-counter territory, with a James Beard Outstanding Hospitality semifinal nod on the record.

A Turkish American tech worker turned pitmaster drives an hour a day just to source the right bread for his chopped beef sandwiches, which tells you everything about the commitment level here. This is a Texas-style BBQ beer bar in Fremont where the brisket, salt-and-pepper only, runs through the smoker for upward of twelve hours and comes out glossy and dark-edged. The sweet pickles in the potato salad are made in-house purely to be an ingredient, not a garnish.

This is the downtown branch of a Houston steakhouse dynasty, all dark wood, low lights, and the hush of people who have expense accounts. The wine list is built like a library, with a sommelier who can talk you through it without making you feel graded. Expect crab cakes, a dry-aged rib-eye under bearnaise, and a slab of New York-style cheesecake that locals treat as a civic duty. Dress like you're closing a deal.

Perenn is a bakery-cafe in a farmhouse-styled outdoor plaza, where the wifi password is "glutenlover" and the pastry case is clearly the main event. Everyone orders at one counter, so the line doubles as browsing time, with croissants, griddled banana bread, and cakes to stare at while your patience gets tested. The Turkish eggs and a salmon cooked just past rare cover the savory side, and it's come-hungry, order-at-the-counter casual.

PJ & Company is a diner-style breakfast spot dressed as a Route 99 saloon, with mismatched dining rooms, neon signs, and racing memorabilia on the walls. Eggs Benedict is the main event, and most versions arrive under a cream cheese sherry sauce whether the menu mentions it or not. Breakfast runs until 11:30 on weekdays and 1 on weekends, and after 5 a separate Tex-Mex menu takes over. It's listed among Eater's best Reno restaurants and bars.

POST Market is a food hall under one very cool roof, where deciding what to eat becomes a group negotiation with dozens of vendors. Suya beef skewers, pad Thai, Filipino barbecue, hand rolls, and hot chicken all share the same neighborhood, so nobody has to lose the argument. Order at the stalls, grab a drink at one of the bars, and carry it up to Skylawn for a Downtown skyline view.

Potente is a fine-dining Italian restaurant across the street from the ballpark, which means the bar fills with people in jerseys making a plan for the evening. The spaghetti al tartufo gets its truffles shaved over the plate right at your table, a bit of theater that suits a place owned by the Astros guy. Expect linen-adjacent prices and a dress code of whatever you wore to the game, within reason.

Rustic Root is a Gaslamp Quarter restaurant built around fried chicken and waffles, chicken pot pie with a biscuit on the side, and a dessert cart that rolls up before you've admitted you want dessert. The rooftop tables overlook the neighborhood, so book one. Weekend brunch comes with a Champagne-and-berries setup, where you build your own mimosa and everyone at the table briefly becomes a bartender.

Saint James is a French bistro that dresses like an American diner, or the reverse, and the blue-and-beige checkered floor will not settle the argument. The menu runs croquettes, steak frites, and a bouillabaisse loaded with snow crab and sausage, while weekend brunch brings bottomless mimosas and a Comté omelet. Sit in a booth or on the patio, which exists largely so people can be seen on it.

Smokin J's is a casual barbecue joint in the Gaslamp, the largest of its three locations, with exposed brick, checkered floors, and enough flat screens to keep a game in sight from any stool. Meat comes by the plate or by the pound, and the sides include a pork-belly-laced navy bean dish called bean crack. The family platters run up to $300 and arrive with white bread, a group project with a sponge.

Süp is a soup restaurant, pronounced exactly how you'd hope, set in a little bungalow on Virginia Street that used to be a dental office. The stocks are made from scratch, the menu rotates daily, and there are usually six soups to choose from, one of them vegan. Chowder shows up Fridays, chili on Saturdays. Sandwiches and salads fill out the rest, and regulars bring their dogs to the outdoor deck. It's casual and cheap-ish, and nobody makes you feel bad about ordering a bowl.

Tacos El Franc is a Tijuana taqueria that planted its flag in the Gaslamp, a few blocks from Petco Park, which tells you who's standing in line. The trompo-sliced adobada, vampiros, and mulitas are counter-service cheap, and the doors stay open until 2 a.m. on weekends, so it's equally plausible you're pre-gaming or post-regretting. Tacos El Gordo sits down the street, and locals have opinions.

A Tijuana-born taqueria where the trompo of al pastor spins in the window like a lighthouse for the post-bar crowd. You order at the counter, get tacos fast and cheap, then dress them yourself at a salsa bar stocked with radishes and limes. The line looks like a hostage situation but moves briskly, and it stays open until 2 a.m., 4 on weekends, for people with a long night behind them and no regrets yet.

Takoi is a Northern Thai restaurant in Corktown whose dining room looks like a spaceship that landed on Michigan Avenue and decided to stay, moody lighting included. Much of the produce comes from its own farm a mile north in Core City. The plates are meant for sharing, the cocktails are fussed over, and vegans eat well. Reservations help, and the patio is enclosed, so winter doesn't get a vote.

The Blind Burro is a Baja-leaning Mexican restaurant on a Gaslamp block that sits close enough to Petco Park to plan your whole evening around it. The menu takes familiar Mexican dishes and gives them a few upgrades, like machetes, which are quesadillas stretched out to the length of a forearm. Brunch brings a churro waffle, and the all-day beer-and-shot deal was clearly written with a ballgame in mind.