The Best Places to Drink in the United States

A rooftop cocktail bar at the Graduate Hotel where the décor commits hard to the wilderness merit-badge aesthetic, think canteens and compasses, while the outdoor patio delivers one of Seattle's better skyline panoramas. The drinks lean into the camping bit without losing their nerve, and the bacon sandwich is there for anyone who needs anchoring. A crowd that skews collegiate but cleans up well fills the space once the sun starts dropping behind the Olympics.

The bar seating glows aquatic blue, ceiling windows let the light pour in, and the outdoor terrace looks straight out at the bay traffic. This Peruvian seafood restaurant on the Embarcadero is the rare Embarcadero spot that earns its view. Ceviche is the main event, and the tasting lets you work through several styles at once. A pisco sour while watching boats maneuver past is a reasonable way to spend an afternoon.

The Jell-O of the day changes, but the wobbly whimsy is a constant at this Ridgewood bar turned Mexican restaurant from chef Yara Herrera. Reggaeton and mariachi set the mood while the menu moves between bar snacks and fine-dining technique, the same kitchen handling both with ease. The New York Times named it among New York's best new restaurants in 2025, which feels about right for a place this hard to categorize.

The ceiling is covered in thousands of clay churchwarden pipes, each one claimed by a regular who never came back to collect it. Keens is an old-school Manhattan steakhouse in Midtown, all dark wood and white tablecloths, and the mutton chop alone has landed on the New York Times list of the city's defining dishes. The porterhouse is USDA Prime, dry-aged in-house, and broiled without apology. It sits at number 68 on the World's Best Steak Restaurants list.

The bar faces San Francisco Bay, with Alcatraz and the Golden Gate framed in the windows, which does a lot of the work before you even sit down. The Buena Vista is an old-school saloon that claims credit for introducing Irish coffee to America, and the bar staff still make them in assembly-line batches. Come at 9am or midnight; the order is the same either way. It won the Spirited Awards' Timeless U.S. Award in 2024, which is about right.

A tiki bar so small it was once a violin-repair shop, which tells you everything about the square footage and nothing about the ambition. Three generations of the same family have been pouring Mai Tais under the thatched canopy on Sunset since the sixties, and they do not serve beer or wine, so don't ask. Modern tiki bars tend to look like this place photoshopped. The original is still doing it straight.

Jeffrey Morgenthaler, one of Portland's bartending legends, helped set up this cocktail bar in the lobby of the Kex Hotel as an unabashed love letter to the Pacific Northwest. The space feels like a well-appointed living room, and the menu lists alcohol percentages alongside each drink, which sounds nerdy until you're grateful for it. The range runs from zero-proof options to a 39% Old Fashioned over a single oversized ice cube.

Art deco bones and a sparkling wine list longer than most bars have wines: Marietta Proper is a wine bar on the historic square that also does cocktails, whiskeys, coffee, and a short food menu of sandwiches and pastries. The team behind it includes a sommelier, which shows. A James Beard semifinalist for Best New Bar in 2025, it draws the kind of crowd that knows the difference between pét-nat and Champagne and orders both.

Rum on tap and ropa vieja on the menu: Otto's High Dive is a neighborhood rum bar in a whitewashed brick room that feels like Old Florida never really left. The kitchen runs a short Cuban-Floridian menu with tropical leanings, and the daiquiris come by the pitcher if you've committed to the evening. A Michelin Bib Gourmand, which tracks for a place this unfussy and this easy to love.

A Harlem cocktail bar run by artists, which explains why the drinks feel less like menu items and more like installation pieces. The house forager supplies wild edible plants that become bitters, liqueurs, and amari made in-house, so what ends up in your glass has a provenance most bars can't claim. The room is cozy and unhurried, and the crowd tends to treat the cocktail list the way other people treat gallery notes.

Backbar is a cocktail bar tucked down a concrete hallway behind a steel door in Union Square, which is how you know the drinks are serious. Weekends bring a line of people waiting to find out what the menu is themed around this month, sometimes an animation studio, with drinks named for scenes. Tell the bartender your mood and let them handle the translation, because the ingredient lists read like a botany final.

Low-lit and unhurried on Magazine Street at the edge of the Lower Garden District, Barrel Proof is a neighborhood whiskey and cocktail bar that lets its bottles do the talking. The bourbon list runs deep, the cocktail menu stays short and confident, and food comes from rotating pop-ups rather than a kitchen. A James Beard semifinalist for Outstanding Restaurateur, which is an unusual nod for a place this deliberately unshowy.

Barrel Proof is a small Germantown bar where the name tells you what's on the shelf and the wall of brown liquor does the rest. Seasonal cocktails and a covered patio make it easy to lose an afternoon, and the crowd runs from post-workout regulars to birthday tables to tourists trying to figure out bourbon. The kimchi-loaded fries with sambal mayo are the move, especially at happy hour.

Little Five Points' go-to soccer bar, Brewhouse draws Atlanta United faithful and international match crowds to a room that takes cricket and rugby as seriously as the Premier League. The beer list runs deep across local, domestic, and imported options, and the Painkiller cocktail comes in three levels of commitment. Wings, nachos, and fish and chips keep things grounded. Wear whatever you'd wear to the match.

Dino's is an East Nashville dive that has been feeding the after-hours crowd since the 1970s, mostly with gooey cheeseburgers meant to talk a hangover out of existing. You can sit at a diner table in the dim main room or out on the covered patio, and the punk rock restroom is considered part of the visit. The bar pours Coors, Shiner Bock, and mezcal, Campari, even Malort, and the line peaks right after the bars close.

You get in by pressing a paw-shaped doorbell, which sets the tone. Doberman Drawing Room is a cocktail lounge and social club in the Arts District, dressed in antiques, taxidermy, and surreal art, with a central bar dividing the room into separate moody dens. Non-members are welcome; members get the private loft with a juliet balcony. No phones, no photos, charcuterie served inside a hollowed book, and cocktails that are genuinely the point.

The sunken firepit shoots flames over a pool of sky-blue water, which tells you most of what you need to know about the Fireside Lounge. It's a lounge bar at the Peppermill, frozen in an era of plastic plants, purple mood lighting, and couch fabric that looks like stone. Tiki drinks arrive in 64-ounce fishbowls. Bon Jovi videos play overhead. The crowd is hard-drinking and completely unbothered, which is the only correct response.

Hand-carved wooden statues, glowing pufferfish lamps, and tree-trunk chairs that take two people to lift set the tone at this classic tiki bar off Charleston. The drinks are ranked by booziness on a five-skull scale, which is the kind of menu design that tells you everything you need to know. Most people clutching souvenir mugs near the back came here on purpose, on something of a pilgrimage, and they planned the whole trip around it.

This is a narrow natural-wine bar near Downtown Crossing, the sort of place that introduced a lot of Boston to tinned fish and has been quietly smug about it since. The list is long and a little nerdy, but the bartenders will talk you through it without making you feel graded. Half bottles of nearly everything let you change your mind twice. It was a James Beard semifinalist for its wine program, and on Wednesdays there are fancy hot dogs.

Le Loup is a cocktail bar perched above The Optimist, decked out like a submarine, so you can drink a martini and feel mildly nautical about it. The menu devotes a whole section to martinis, and there are towering barstools, cozy booths, shrimp cocktail, and fries that Nashville has opinions about. Bananas foster gets flambéed tableside, which is a nice way to remind everyone the sea is flammable. After 10pm the snacks give way to sandwiches.

A beer-only karaoke bar in a double-wide trailer that stays decorated for Christmas through every month of the year, run by an owner who looks exactly like the name on the door. Expect PBR, Miller Lite, and a seltzer, cash only, with an ATM outside for the optimistic. The karaoke rules are strict: no cussing, smoking, or drinking while you hold the mic. The Infatuation named it one of Nashville's best bars.

Schulman's is a neighborhood dive bar dressed as the finished basement of your friend's cool parents, with stained glass lampshades, a lacquered bar, and leather booths that have seen things. The martinis run twelve dollars, there's a double cheeseburger and a pickle beer, and the backyard is built for smokers holding frozen margaritas. Nashville Scene named it Best New Bar in 2024.

The walls of this pirate-themed tiki bar are hung with portraits of distinguished canine buccaneers, which alone tells you something about the commitment level here. The lore involves a cursed ship, a sea witch, and a crew turned into dogs, and it's fully committed to the bit without letting the theatrics crowd out the drinks. Traditional tiki pours sit alongside inventive originals, and the cocktail menu earns its keep on its own terms.

Muddy Waters and B.B. King both played this no-frills blues bar near Chinatown, which tells you something about the room. Live music runs every night of the week, and between sets the crowd shoots pool and orders pizza to soak up the local craft beer. The seasonal Halloween and Christmas pop-ups have become their own draw, which is a funny fate for a place with that kind of history, but the bar handles both versions of itself with ease.

The handwritten sign taped to the door reads "Ring Buzzer, Pull Door," which sets expectations accordingly. What's inside this Mid City cocktail dive runs against every signal the prefab exterior sends: serious drinks, a warm room, and a neighborhood crowd that has clearly been coming here since the block was still drying out. It's relaxed in the way only a bar that doesn't need to prove itself can manage.

The wine list leans natural, the cocktails are craft, and the menu changes often enough that regulars rarely order the same thing twice. Copper Common is a wine bar and restaurant in downtown Salt Lake City, from the team behind the Copper Onion next door, and the kitchen ranges widely, pairing sharply drawn flavors without making a fuss about it. Salt Lake Magazine named it one of the city's top restaurants.

This is a velvet-draped, 1920s-style cocktail parlor, reached by slipping behind the doughnut stand inside Aria's food hall, which is about as speakeasy as a doughnut counter can make you feel. Live jazz fills the room most nights, and the drinks arrive with props: mushroom-shaped glasses on a mossy board, a Manhattan in a cigar box. Dress for a date, and bring someone who won't mind sharing the dry ice.

The wine list runs from skin-contact naturals to premier cru Burgundy, which tells you this Midtown wine bar is not trying to be one thing. It's been around forever, long enough to have shaped Houston's wine culture before anyone here was talking about orange wine. The cheese and charcuterie plate is an honest reason to stay for a second glass. The room is low-key and comfortable, the kind of place regulars treat as a standing appointment.

Eight Row Flint is a whiskey bar in a former mid-century dry cleaner in the Heights, and the back bar is stocked like it's expecting a long siege. The drink menu runs to a small-novella 25 pages, there are big casks of the good stuff, and you can rent a locker for your own bottles if you want to be That Whiskey Person. The patio is huge, the cheeseburger and wings keep the evening honest, and the margaritas get a lot of press.

Grand Prize is a two-story dive where the interior is blacked out so thoroughly that the neon is mostly there to help you read the drink menu. Happy hour offers a "Happy Meal," which is a beer and a shot, and the pool tables are good for losing to a stranger. The kitchen rotates through bar food, birria tacos one week and chili-cheese dogs the next, and the terrace is where you go to confirm the sun still exists.

Lei Low is a tiny tiki bar in the Heights where the grass cloth, palm trees, and tropical tchotchkes do most of the travel planning. The rum selection is deep enough to require a plan, and the Navy Grog and Singapore Sling are on hand for people who like their classics served with a tiny umbrella's worth of conviction. Large-format drinks are built for splitting, which makes this a good place to find out who in your group can share.

Frozen cocktails and build-your-own pizzas under the same roof sounds like a fever dream, but Monkey's Tail makes it work. This neighborhood bar in Fulton keeps things loose and colorful while running a cocktail program weighted heavily toward tequila and mezcal. The frozen drinks are a genuine draw, and the food menu swings wide enough, tacos, burgers, aguachiles, that no one in the group goes home grumpy.

The bathrooms are papered in decoupaged vintage Playboys, which tells you most of what you need to know about this Midtown dive bar. Named after a Roky Erickson song, Two Headed Dog leans hard into its free-spirited brief, with a colorful patio and a rotating cocktail menu that punches well above the surroundings. The frozen drinks are a particular draw for anyone who finds serious cocktail bars a little exhausting.

Voodoo Queen Daiquiri Dive in the East End is a dive bar that also contains an arcade, a po'boy counter, and eight frozen drink machines churning like a laundromat for neon. Pool and air hockey keep the hands busy, and the menu runs to fried shrimp, hush puppies, and tater tots under roast beef. Come in jeans, split a flaming tiki boat with whoever you trust most, and expect to leave with a very green tongue.

A shack-shaped neighborhood bar that has been selling cold drinks since it sold actual ice, back when that was a business. Lone Stars flow at red picnic tables under open sky, dogs wander in, and a taco truck across the street handles food duties. Houston has a whole category named after places like this, and Houstonians will tell you, with some feeling, that the others are impostors.

The rolling ladders are not decorative. They reach a full twelve feet to access shelves of over 1,500 bottles lining the bare brick walls of this former piano-store stockroom, and the bartenders use them. A thick bound menu catalogs everything by region and spirit type, library-style, because the name is sincere. It's a serious whiskey bar that takes the bit all the way, and the room is dramatic enough that even non-whiskey people tend to stay longer than planned.

The owner is often spotted bussing tables or running food on a busy night, which sets the tone for this Lower Greenville bar and American kitchen that manages to feel like it's been around forever. Cozy enough for a quiet date, loose enough for drinks with friends, it occupies that useful middle ground between neighborhood bar and proper dinner spot. An English chef handles the kitchen, keeping things grounded rather than showy.

Hungarian comfort food in a Deep Ellum cocktail bar is a combination nobody asked for and nobody wants to question. Armoury D.E. runs a casual, lived-in room where the drinks are serious, the kitchen leans into paprika-forward territory, and there's usually a free live show happening out back. The burger of the week has a following. Dallas Observer named it home to the city's best Bloody Mary and best bar food, which checks out.

The Clint Eastwood velvet artwork made the move from Deep Ellum, and so did the regulars. Black Swan Saloon is a cocktail bar in East Dallas with a moody, kitschy interior that somehow lands as genuinely cozy, the kind of room where dressing up and wearing a vintage rock tee both look right. House cocktails and boilermakers anchor the menu, and the frozen martini has become the thing everyone's carrying through the crowd.

A cocktail bar tucked into a genuine old Uptown house, Bowen House leans into the atmosphere without making it a whole thing. The drink menu runs from draft beer and a tidy wine list up to signature cocktails with names like "For Whom the Bell Pepper Tolls," which is exactly the kind of pun that works better than it should. The crowd tends toward the kind of people who like a porch vibe without leaving the city.

Walls of VHS tapes set the tone at this Vietnamese restaurant and bar that's been an East Dallas fixture forever. The '60s lounge vibe makes it feel like a party someone threw and never quite ended. The menu runs eclectic but Vietnamese dishes anchor it, and the espresso martini is made with house-brewed Vietnamese coffee, in limited supply each night. Order the garlic noodles if they have them, and hope quietly that they do.

Shelves of wine bottles line every wall of this small, happily unpretentious wine bar tucked into a strip mall on Indian School. The vibe is couch-and-conversation, the kind of place where you sit down next to strangers and somehow end up closing it down with them. The food menu runs to pimento cheese and Moroccan spiced meatballs, which is a perfectly reasonable way to soak up a second pour. Phoenix New Times named it one of the top 100 bars in the city.

Vinyl spins in a moody room at this Sylvan Thirty cocktail bar that went dark, then came back with a new team and the same instincts. Matcha and Parmesan were already on the menu here before either showed up everywhere else. The current list keeps crowd favorites like the Red Headed Oaxacan alongside new experiments. No reservations now, which suits a place this comfortable with walk-ins pulling up to a well-stocked bar.

The stripper pole is decorative, full stop. That's the first thing to know about this Cedars bar, the second being that management wears suits while you eat a roller-grill hot dog next to a cigarette machine. It's dark and a little flirty, with pool and darts keeping things grounded. The dirty martini, made with fresh-pressed olive juice and an anchovy-stuffed olive, does a lot of heavy lifting for a place that also sells boxed candy.

The house big band at this Bishop Arts bar and music venue plays with enough brass to rattle your drink on the table. Revelers Hall leans hard into 1920s New Orleans, where the mood runs festive and the dancing starts before you've finished your flatbread or charcuterie. It's not a quiet-beer kind of place, and it doesn't pretend to be. D Magazine named it Dallas's top jazz bar in 2024, which tracks.

The tequila and mezcal list at this Deep Ellum bar is long enough to constitute a philosophical commitment. Ruins leans hard into Latin culture, with original artwork on the walls and cocktails that come with actual folklore attached. The Limbo Room out back hosts live music in close quarters. It reads like a dive bar that got serious about agave spirits without losing the plot.

Pendant lights salvaged from a European monastery hang over the bar, which tells you everything about how seriously this place takes atmosphere. An old-school beer bar and pub on Henderson Avenue, The Old Monk pours drafts from around the world alongside a rotating cast of locals, with fish and chips that regulars treat as a birthright. Weekday happy hour runs until seven and has a reputation for extending the evening considerably past anyone's original plan.

Around 700 whiskeys line the shelves at this Exposition Park bar, and the team takes the curation seriously enough that it shows. Dark, warm, and a little seductive inside, Whiskeys sits across from Fair Park in a stretch of Dallas most people drive past without stopping. Flights let you move through the collection systematically, including one that honors Uncle Nearest Green, the man behind Jack Daniel's original recipe.