The Best Places to Drink in the United States

Donna's is a cocktail bar on White Oak where the evening's main activity is relaying other people's drinks over your head while inching toward the rail. Seats are guarded by strangers who hover with the patience of vultures, and a Fridge Cig, an Old Fashioned built on dark rum and cherry cola, is what you'll be holding when you finally win one. It was a Spirited Awards Top 10 nominee for Best New U.S. Cocktail Bar.

The wall murals were painted by Ludwig Bemelmans, the man behind Madeline, and he never paid rent, trading the art for a year's lodging instead. This Carlyle hotel cocktail bar has been a stronghold of old-money Manhattan for decades, all leather banquettes and low piano notes, the martinis notoriously strong. The crowd runs toward people who have a lot to lose and dress accordingly.

Chenin is a tiny wine bar tucked inside The Siren Hotel, pouring natural and biodynamic bottles to a room lit softly enough to forgive anyone's skin-contact experiments. Salty snacks and a mortadella sandwich piled onto focaccia keep the evening going longer than planned. Seats are scarce, so arrive when the doors open. It was a James Beard Award nominee for Best New Bar.

A subterranean New England seafood joint in the East Village where the menu runs heavily toward the ocean and the wine list follows suit, mostly whites chosen to keep pace with it. The New York Times named it among the city's best new restaurants, and the sommelier took a Next Wave Award. The celery root float has become something of a minor cult object, which tells you something about the kitchen's sense of humor.

Tucked next to chef Johnny Curiel's flagship, this agave bar doubles as a serious kitchen, and the two halves push each other into strange, good territory. The mezcal list is long and thoughtful, the cocktails inventive, and the food pulls from Mexico City's restless energy with Japanese and other detours woven in. A Michelin star and a New York Times nod followed quickly. Plan around the bar counter if you can.

Rice Vice is the taproom for Proper Sake, a casual sake bar where the menu describes each pour in flavor notes so specific they border on a confession ("bubblegum funk" is a real category here). Order the citrusy nigori if you're new, or something earthier if you're not. Food means snacks, with the occasional pop-up out front. Esquire put it on its best bars in America list, and sake fans fill the room.

The Txuletón, a Basque-style ribeye from mature dairy cows, grilled over open charcoal with salt, heat, and not much else, is the organizing principle of this Basque-inspired chophouse in River North. The kitchen takes its cues from the asador tradition, applying that discipline to seriously sourced beef, carefully aged. Spanish reds anchor the wine list. Esquire named it among the best new restaurants in America, and it lands at number 15 on the World's Best Steak Restaurants list.

The cocktail menu changes every time the gallery does, which tells you most of what you need to know about Papercut. It's a minimalist East Austin cocktail bar where the drinks are keyed to whatever paintings are currently on the walls, so ordering becomes a little like picking a favorite piece. A back bar called Konbini serves Mexican-Japanese sushi when you need something to eat. The team came up from San Francisco, and the room feels it.

Paul Carmichael grew up in Barbados, and Kabawa is his argument that Caribbean cooking belongs in any room it wants. A prix-fixe fine dining restaurant on Extra Place, it seats you at a horseshoe counter in a dark green room with mosaic tilework and a playlist sourced partly from Carmichael's cousin back home. The New York Times named it the top restaurant in New York City, and the cocktail bar next door is his too, for nights when the goat patty feels like the right move.

Blowfish sculptures and boats hanging from the ceiling set the tone before you've ordered a thing. Adrift is a full-commitment tiki bar on South Broadway, with bamboo walls, fishing-net lights, and totem carvings doing their best to convince you Denver isn't landlocked. Cocktails arrive in coconuts, flaming punchbowls, or funky mugs, running from Zombies and Singapore Slings to seasonal originals leaning on cachaca, sherry, and cacao. Spam musubi keeps things honest.

A wine bar in RiNo that keeps fried chicken and tinned fish on the menu alongside Khikhvi, Nerello Mascalese, and a Mencía from Oregon that has no business being that good. The list leans hard into natural, biodynamic, and small-production bottles, and the staff can talk you through all of it without making you feel like a student. Grape nerds and people who just want a glass with snacks coexist peacefully here.

Rum drinks without a single plastic volcano or flaming garnish in sight. Cane & Table is a cocktail bar that calls itself "Proto Tiki," rooting its menu in the centuries of trade between rum-producing islands before the tiki craze gave everything a grass skirt. The room on Decatur Street feels genuinely New Orleans, which helps. Pisco Punch and signature coladas share the menu, and the whole thing moves like a history lesson you'd actually stay for.

Evan Funke's eponymous Italian restaurant occupies a three-story art deco building in Beverly Hills, where a glassed-in room lets you watch pasta being made by hand before it reaches your table. Red leather booths, stone tables, and tall ceilings set a tone that takes itself seriously without taking the fun out of dinner. The menu moves through handmade pasta and wood-fired dishes, the kind of Italian cooking where focaccia alone gets its own moment.

A tiny tiki bar tucked into Wailuku well off the resort circuit, Esters Fair Prospect pours tropical cocktails from a patio that feels like it was built for lingering. The drink list leans into local ingredients, including okolehao, a plantation-era spirit made from tī root. Food & Wine named it one of the top bars in the US in 2025. Bar snacks, ceramic mermaid cups, and happy hour daiquiris round out the picture.

Fried chicken wings stuffed with andouille dirty rice tell you everything about this Southern-leaning cocktail bar and dining room in the Jay Hotel. The chef's Alabama roots show up in pimento cheese dressed with trout roe and banana cream pie reimagined as a chocolate-pretzel tartlet, dishes that straddle Sunday supper and something more deliberate. The room is dusky and quietly glamorous, the kind of place that makes a Tuesday feel like a reason to dress up.

Sierra Nevada's East Coast brewery comes with a sprawling taproom where the beer list runs from flagship lagers to whatever they're playing with this season. The on-site garden supplies the kitchen, which does wood-fired pizza and duck-fat fries alongside the pints, but drinking is the point. Outside there's a patio with a fire pit, a bocce court, cornhole, and an amphitheater, which sounds like overkill until you're on your third flight.

A cannon hangs above the bar, which should tell you everything about how Smuggler's Cove calibrates its energy. This tiki bar on Gough is a three-floor rum fever dream of dangling puffer fish, skull-lined crates, rigging, and a salvaged Trader Vic's Boathouse sign hiding in the basement. The menu runs deep into obscure Caribbean and Pacific spirits, and the bartenders know the material cold. A James Beard Outstanding Bar nominee.

The bookstore on the corner of Tejon is not a bookstore. Push the right shelf and you're inside one of Denver's favorite cocktail bars, a speakeasy that takes both halves of the conceit seriously: a library of over 500 spirits backs a menu of originals alongside some 60 classics. No standing room means the wait is part of the deal, so arrive with patience and someone to talk to while you queue.

Leopard print, bamboo pagodas, faux foliage, and video poker embedded in the bar top: this Chinatown tiki bar on Spring Mountain Road commits to the bit completely. The strip-mall address keeps the tourist bustle down, so the stools fill with off-shift locals who treat it like their living room. The drinks are tropical and potent, the kitsch is sincere rather than ironic, and the whole place feels like Vegas decided to throw a luau and never stopped.

Gold hands serve as beer taps, jewel-toned decanters fill a Queen Anne cabinet, and the wallpaper is not quite what it seems. Velveteen Rabbit is a cocktail bar in the Arts District that takes the storybook theme seriously without going precious about it: seasonal menus, vintage glassware, and drinks rooted in Golden Age mixology. The patio and light-projected walls are draws on their own. Weekends fill up, so book ahead.

Sichuan Garden fed Brookline Village for two decades before the family's son, a bartender with a James Beard-nominated bar pedigree, took over the front of house and made it a cocktail bar. The drinks lean tropical, lots of rum and agave, threaded through with Sichuan flavors that have no business working this well together. The Spirited Awards named the bar team a Regional Top 10 Honoree, which tracks.

This is a seafood restaurant dressed like an Old Hollywood set, with a raw bar and a caviar service whose sturgeon eggs come from fish the chef raised himself. The menu keeps one eye on the Gulf, with redfish, grouper, and a clam chowder that means it. The bar has a Golden Martini from Esquire, so a drink first is only prudent. Expect to dress like someone might photograph you, because someone will.

Johnny's Gold Brick is a tiny rectangular cocktail bar in the Heights, and it makes the most of the floor plan. A dozen classics run under $10, and the seasonal drinks top out around $15, some of them set on fire while you watch. There's a mushroom-infused rum drink for the savory crowd, and the music stays low enough that nobody has to shout, which is a bigger selling point than it sounds.

A donkey illustration on an easy-to-miss door inside the Cosmopolitan's Block 16 Food Hall is all the signage this dimly lit agave bar bothers with. Red string lights, floral murals, and a serious list of tequilas and mezcals fill the rest of the room. The nachos come loaded with toppings that make you look twice at the menu. Time Out named it one of the best bars in Las Vegas, which feels about right for somewhere this committed to being hard to find.

You get in by picking up the phone inside a wooden booth at a hot dog joint on St. Marks. If whoever's watching the camera approves, the door buzzes open. PDT is a cocktail bar that takes the speakeasy conceit completely seriously, which is either charming or exhausting depending on your mood, and the line outside suggests most people land on charming. The drinks are the kind of careful, considered pours that made the whole city start doing this.

Old Glory is a candlelit cocktail bar in a former industrial steam plant, where the old boiler still sits in the corner and a coal hopper hangs overhead like a very heavy chandelier. Weeknights are quiet and date-friendly, while weekends turn the floor into a dance party. The drinks are spirit-forward, and the monthly lineup of drag, circus acts, and jazz nights suggests the boiler has seen weirder things than you.

To get into this speakeasy cocktail bar inside the Horseshoe, you pick up a phone, answer a riddle, and crawl through an entrance. The bar itself looks like a haunted Victorian study, shelves packed with odd artifacts and enough atmosphere to make you forget you're technically in a casino basement. Cocktails run strong and strange, and there's a dedicated mixology classroom if you want to learn why your drink tastes like that.

Jeff "Beachbum" Berry wrote the books that revived tiki culture, and then he went and opened a bar. Latitude 29 sits inside a French Quarter hotel, all mid-century lines and lauhala matting, with a chunky oak bar backed by a tiki map of the world. It leans sophisticated rather than plastic-hula-girl, and the rum and fruit cocktails are the serious kind, made by people who know exactly what they're doing.

The bar actually rotates, one full revolution every fifteen minutes, carried on 2,000 steel rollers by a quarter-horsepower motor. It's a cocktail bar inside the old Monteleone Hotel on Royal Street, and the canopy above the 25-seat circular bar was carved by a carousel craftsman, which explains a lot. New Orleans being New Orleans, nobody finds this strange. It's a strong argument for arriving early enough to feel the room slowly turn.

Low ceilings with thick wood beams, amber light, and banquettes that make every table feel like a booth in the back of someone's private club. Bartolo is a Spanish restaurant in the West Village, the kind where you order oxtail braised in red wine and suckling pig and let the table fill up. The martini list has its own following, and the servers are sharp enough to keep a long night moving without making it feel rushed.

The dirty martini here landed on Esquire's list of the finest in the country, which tracks: the bar occupies the old Picasso space at the Bellagio, with the fountains putting on their show just outside. It's the cocktail outpost of the Carbone empire, so the room skews dressed-up and the pours skew generous. Order the martini, watch the water, and feel no obligation to explain yourself.

The turquoise Garden District mansion has been turning out Modern New Orleans Creole since Ella Brennan and a young Emeril Lagasse were essentially inventing the genre together. Fine dining in the grand sense, white tablecloths and all, though the room skews festive rather than stiff. Meg Bickford runs the kitchen now, keeping the cooking by turns classicist and a little bodacious. Wine Enthusiast put the cellar in its Hall of Fame, and the weekday lunch martinis go for a quarter.

The checkered tile floors and art-lined stone walls make it look like a Parisian bistro that wandered into the West Loop and decided to stay. Creepies is a neighborhood French restaurant from the team behind Elske next door, with a concise menu that leans classic and slides Midwestern where it can. The vesper martini landed on Esquire's list of the best in the country, which is not nothing for a place called Creepies.

Culebra is a narrow, dark Puerto Rican cocktail bar in Logan Square where the entrance is the first puzzle, so expect to ask a stranger where it is. Inside, a loud bomba soundtrack keeps everyone bouncing, drinks run to a Malta-sweetened highball, a spicy rum swizzle, and a plantain shot. The Infatuation put it on its list of the 'it' bars across America, which is how the line out front got started.

Doris is a tiny cocktail bar that keeps weeknight hours only, which tells you who it's built for. The drinks come in small, rippled coupes, some barely a mouthful, and the snack mix has nutritional yeast on it, which sounds like a dare but isn't. Prices run after-work-drinks rather than special occasion. Expect the 4pm-on-a-Tuesday set and a few people who definitely own a ring light.

Frankie's Summer Club is a seasonal outdoor bar tucked into the courtyard of a former art school, which is exactly the kind of sentence that makes you check your shoes. It's a leafy garden with a jazz trio, playful cocktails, and bar food that includes fried swordfish skewers. It's technically members-only, though visitors can sign up online, and it shuts down in September. The Infatuation put it on its list of 'It' bars right now.

Gosh is a cocktail bar in Chinatown that behaves like a funhouse with a guest list, which means showing up and asking nicely is a legitimate strategy. Servers wear Adidas track jackets, the stools look like gnomes, and the basement glows a menacing red. Upstairs there's a confessional for your sins, and the carajillo arrives candy-sweet. The Infatuation put it on its list of the 'It' bars across America.

A live-fire hearth anchors the open kitchen at this midcentury modern restaurant in San Antonio's Pearl District, where the menu is organized around Texas ingredients and built for sharing, with a dedicated steak section and a Texas-focused wine list. The name nods to the patron saint of farmers, and the sourcing follows through. It holds a Michelin star and landed on the New York Times Restaurant List in 2025.

Red leather banquettes, white tablecloths, a snappy U-shaped bar, and a shiny open kitchen pack into fifty seats on Dickerson Pike. This is a French-leaning dinner spot where smoke drifts in from a Basque-style wood-fire hearth and the wine list has Brooklyn credentials. Philip Krajeck's third Nashville restaurant has landed on the New York Times' list of Nashville's 25 best, which for a room this quietly romantic feels about right.

Kenny's Upstairs is a queer-owned cocktail bar you reach by climbing a red neon-lit staircase, which sets expectations for the '80s movie set waiting at the top, complete with a phone booth and old mall food court posters. The drinks get serious attention, down to shots chased with house khao soi broth, though a Hamm's and a corndog are also on the table. St. Louis bartenders send you here if they like your face.

A converted farmhouse in North Salem with sweeping views of actual countryside, which somehow makes the tasting menu feel earned rather than theatrical. This is a Michelin-starred modern French fine dining room with very few tables, run by a husband-and-wife team whose roots are in the south of France. The cooking is precise and quietly confident, and dessert gets its own moment to shine. Esquire named the Vesper martini among the finest in America, which is a strange fact about a farmhouse, and a good one.

Las Rosas is a dive bar on NW 7th Ave that closed for a few years, then reopened looking like nobody had touched it, which is the correct amount of renovation. It's all cheap shots, a back alley where cigarettes change hands between strangers, and a Saturday-night guitar solo at a volume your ears will file a complaint about. It's the opposite of South Beach, with no velvet rope and no one's cousin running the list. Closing time is roughly 5am.

Concrete floors and dark leather in a South Austin building that could pass for a tech lobby, except the menu is French and the martinis have made a small national name for themselves. Le Calamar is a neighborhood bistro where the food leans sharing plates, the wine list sneaks in some Texas pours, and the baked Alaska arrives with honey pecan dacquoise and torched meringue like it has something to prove.

A Flatiron bar tricked out like a 1970s Bangkok shophouse, with vintage televisions and family photos on the walls and Thai cocktails on the menu. The jasmine martini landed on Esquire's list of the best martinis in America, which gives you a sense of how seriously the drinks program is taken. The kitchen keeps pace with late-night Thai food that pairs naturally with the cocktails. Open late, which the neighborhood needed.

Maestro is a downtown Tulsa cocktail bar that skips the crowds and pours a smooth, stiff drink for the end of a long day. Settle in with a caipirinha and pretend the room is a sexy villa while young film-industry types wade through a conversation about tequila terroir. The Infatuation put it on its list of the "It" bars across America, which is a lot of pressure for a place with no patience for pressure.

The green salad here became a Philadelphia talking point, which tells you everything about what kind of tavern this is. Meetinghouse is an American bar and kitchen in Fishtown where the menu looks almost suspiciously plain, right up until the food arrives. The hot roast beef sandwich and pork-and-beans both suggest a kitchen treating simple things as the whole point, not the backup plan. Named to The New York Times Restaurant List for 2025.

The pool table shares the room with people in stilettos, which tells you most of what you need to know about Parley. It's a neighborhood bar on East Cesar Chavez run by two Irishmen who seem unbothered by the idea that a bar can be dim and comfortable and also genuinely cool. Screens handle both the big game and arthouse film. The drinks run strong, the food leans comfort with a global detour, and the dress code is apparently optional.

A 22-seat Korean fine dining room where the staff never once mentions that the kitchen runs as a nonprofit focused on zero waste, letting the tasting menu speak for itself instead. Edward Lee's cooking gives traditional Korean ingredients a modern setting, moving through courses that land somewhere between precise and quietly surprising. The Korean spirits list leans into the esoteric, including a crimson makgeolli made with red yeast rice.

The French onion soup has been on the menu since day one, which tells you something about how Oxford feels about this place. Snackbar is a warm, wood-paneled Southern restaurant with an oyster bar, cocktail bar, and booths deep enough to disappear into. The kitchen weaves Indian flavors through the menu without making it a theme, so masala pot pie sits comfortably next to whatever's seasonal. Esquire named its martini among the finest in the country.

Coffee arrives at Specs spiked with Cynar, corrected with maple cream liqueur, or topped with Angostura whipped cream, all from 8am. It's a coffee shop and daytime cocktail bar in Winooski, the former mill town next door to Burlington, where the crafty set debates linocut workshops in the sunny windows while big dreamers at the bar puzzle over how to dome the town rotary. When talks stall, the attached bev mart stocks 24-ounce Busch Ice and cigarettes.