The Best Breakfast in the United States

The counter stools and cozy booths have the feel of a midcentury diner, which is exactly the point: The Eleanor is a breakfast and brunch spot built as a deliberate antidote to Scottsdale's party-brunch scene. Pancakes, hash, and biscuits and gravy share the menu with avocado toast and Buddha bowls, and the grab-and-go fridge means you can linger over slow coffee or bolt, your call.

Fresh rosemary on wooden tables and a bottle of house-made hot sauce waiting when you sit down sets the tone at this counter-service cafe. The farmhouse-chic room has soft bistro lights, chalkboard menus, and a walk-up window that made takeout brunch a neighborhood ritual. The line down the block on weekends is the real menu recommendation. Phoenix New Times named it best breakfast in 2024.

The pork toast, shrimp mousse pressed onto Japanese milk bread, is the detail that explains why this Taiwanese comfort food restaurant filled up fast after opening in the Mission. The chef came up through pop-up days, and that restless, inventive energy carried over into a full room and a menu that swings between numbing mala ribs and a silky tofu pudding. Eater named it one of the best new restaurants in America in 2023.

Chica is a Latin American restaurant inside the Venetian, and its weekend brunch plays out in a dim, purple-lit room with a DJ, which makes the eggs benedict feel slightly illicit. It's a sit-down meal at resort prices, with arepas arriving by the basket and a chocolate skull that gets set on fire at the table. Eater and The Infatuation both put it on their Las Vegas brunch lists, which seems fair given the pyrotechnics.

The entire menu is gluten-free, which sounds like a warning but reads more like a dare. Jewel's is a breakfast and brunch cafe on the east side of Phoenix where the doughnut holes are light, the tortillas stretch properly, and the waffles hold up under chicken and spicy bacon without apology. Dairy-free, vegan, and vegetarian options run alongside bottomless mimosas and locally roasted coffee. Nothing on the plate telegraphs its constraints.

Lavo is an Italian restaurant that treats brunch as a two-act play. Sunday is the calm one, an all-you-can-eat spread with a towering bread display at the door and shoestring fries you'll keep reaching for. Saturday trades the tablecloth for fog machines, DJs, and bottle service delivered by someone dressed as a banana. Wear whichever outfit matches your appetite for chaos, and bring a budget for either.

A pastry case you have to walk past before you even reach the counter is a clever design choice for a breakfast spot. Vovomeena runs a casual line-order setup near downtown Phoenix with a genuinely neighborhood feel, leaning on local suppliers for eggs, sausage, and coffee. The Pain Perdu swaps bread for banana bread pudding, and the chile-corn Johnnycakes remind you this is the Southwest.

Avgolemono on a menu full of green chile cheese fries and omelets sets the tone at this neighborhood diner tucked onto a quiet, tree-shaded block just off Colfax. Chef Zorba's has been around forever, and the regulars who walk over from Congress Park carry themselves like they've never needed to look at the menu. Westword handed it Best Soup for a Hangover, which is either high praise or a very specific clientele study.

The warm Frena arrives with pistachio butter, olives, and pickled peppers, and that's more or less the tone of the whole meal. Okto is a Mediterranean restaurant that draws a devoted Sunday brunch crowd, the kind that photographs first and eats immediately after. The cocktail list gets as much attention as the food, and the espresso martini seems to outnumber the people ordering coffee.

The carts are back, loaded with dumplings, chicken feet, shrimp balls, and sticky rice, and on weekend mornings a line forms outside before the doors open. Star Kitchen is a dim sum parlor tucked into a strip mall on Mississippi, the kind of room that rewards a large, hungry group with a working knowledge of chile oil. Dinner happens too, but the morning rush is the whole point.

Purple ube tortillas are the opening move at this compact Mission taqueria, where the kitchen leans Yucatecan rather than the Bay Area standard. Cochinita pibil arrives with real tart depth and habanero salsa that bites back, and a pastor negro made with black adobo keeps things interesting. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the best taco spots in the Bay Area, which tracks for a place this quietly opinionated about the form.

The honey cardamom toast alone sends a signal about where the Noortwyck's head is at. This West Village neighborhood restaurant comes from Eleven Madison Park alums, and the menu moves between oysters and cinnamon rolls without blinking. The New York Times gave it two stars. Service has that unhurried quality that makes you feel less like a table and more like a regular, even on your first visit.

The smoke here is the point, not the backdrop. This fast-casual BBQ counter inside the Source Hotel takes an Austin-leaning approach to brisket and jalapeño cheddar sausage, where the smoke reads as seasoning rather than spectacle. The Nashville hot chicken sandwich has its loyalists too. Sides like slaw and mac and cheese are present and accounted for, though nobody's lining up for them. The Michelin Guide has it on their list, if that helps calibrate expectations.

Kirwan's is an Irish pub on the Wharf, all dark wood that wouldn't look out of place on a 17th-century naval vessel. Downstairs is for sports fans and conference lanyards pouring Guinness, while an upstairs mezzanine has a closed-off snug and a whiskey room tucked below for anyone who'd like their stout with fewer opinions shouted at it. Shepherd's pie and a spice bag are the order, entry-level pub prices apply.

Beignets dusted in powdered sugar and a personal bottle of sparkling juice set the tone at this Louisiana-inspired breakfast and lunch spot in Denver's Capitol Hill. The walls are loaded with Creole country kitsch, and the silverware arrives wrapped in bright fabric. The chicory coffee and housemade hot sauce are the real throughlines. A local chain, but one that has regulars debating grits versus potatoes, which is exactly the right argument to be having.

The shihan ful arrives with two crusty sourdough rolls and no apology for the carbs. This Eritrean cafe in Oakland has been a neighborhood anchor for ages, the kind of spot where newcomers immediately feel like regulars. Fava beans, berbere, crumbled cheese, and a hit of lemon make that breakfast stew hard to skip, though the lunch tibsy, a spiced meat stew over injera, holds its own. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Top 100 Bay Area restaurants.

Named for the Aztec goddess of agave and fertility, this Mexico City-inspired restaurant in Autry Park takes the naming convention seriously: the agave bar runs on additive-free spirits and the cocktail list splits neatly into light-and-refreshing versus smoky-and-heavy. Netflix-familiar chef Luis Robledo Richards brings the kind of menu that sits just below fine dining in category but not in ambition, with brunch drawing the weekend crowd for chilaquiles and a Mexico City eggs Benedict.

This is a counter-service breakfast sandwich shop that came up from Los Angeles and now collects sleepy tourists in a line that wraps around the building from early morning until noon. The sandwiches are warm, built to be carried, and priced like a sensible meal in a town that prefers otherwise. Eggs go on brioche or baguette, sometimes with steak, and nobody inside is dressed for anything beyond the walk back to the Strip.

Hammered metal tiles line the ceiling and cookbooks fill the shelves at this daytime cafe on Petaluma's waterfront, where the menu runs through Eastern Mediterranean breakfast and lunch that shifts with the seasons. The Jerusalem-style bagels, looped long and chewy, are made in-house. Turkish coffee comes spiced with cardamom and cinnamon. Gratuity is built into the prices, which saves you the math and explains the sticker shock.

A Mexican café tucked into a shopping center that most people would drive past without a second look, though the tables spilling outside on weekends suggest others have figured it out. Pan dulce comes straight from the display case, the migas and huevos rancheros are the kind of thing you come back for on a bad Tuesday, and the cinnamon coffee is its own reason to show up. Cash-register Spanish, homey enough to linger.

Cardamom buns, jumbo jam thumbprints, and gingery caramel cookies set the tone at this Scandinavian café and bakery on Market Street. The menu leans seasonal, with tartines on sprouted rye and both sweet and savory porridges, but the flaky seed-topped pastry stuffed with soft scrambled eggs and molten havarti is what brings people back. Grab a sidewalk table and let the Market Street parade do its thing.

Ox Bar & Hearth is a full-service Lincoln Park restaurant that sits right across from the North and Clybourn el stop and keeps a valet lot, which in this neighborhood is practically a luxury amenity. Brunch leans carb-heavy, with soft blue cornbread and pastries from Fat Peach Bakery. For a $95 smoked ribeye with fried eggs, the kitchen will also shave black truffle on top if you ask nicely.

A redwood-shaded café in Monte Rio where the menu runs through the Levant and the Mediterranean and the décor is someone's very good vintage-electronics collection. The beach pita, stuffed with roasted eggplant, boiled eggs, tahini, and pickled mango sauce, is the reason regulars make the drive from the Bay. Take it across to the Russian River beach, or eat at a picnic table while the skatepark next door provides the entertainment.

All the seating is outdoors, which means Sam's Log Cabin operates like a neighborhood backyard that happens to serve breakfast. The kitchen lives in an actual log cabin, the pergola is draped in greenery, and the menu runs hearty, with cornmeal pancakes and corned beef hash doing the heavy lifting. Ask about the weekly specials, which tend toward seasonal pancakes and scones. Albany's not a destination, but on a sunny morning this patio makes a persuasive case for itself.

Nonalcoholic micheladas made with hop water and fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice set the tone at this cozy Noe Valley cantina, where brunch skews California-virtuous without turning preachy. Tamales come with avocado and a jammy egg, grain bowls are loaded with seeds and roasted vegetables, and the whole thing feels like an all-day LA café that somehow landed in a neighborhood where Patagonia puffers count as dressed up. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's top brunch spots.

La Catedral is a casual Mexican breakfast spot in Little Village where the decor runs to saints and religious imagery, a collection that keeps growing because customers keep gifting more of it. The menu covers eggs, omelets, pancakes, and licuados, but the chilaquiles are the sermon, with at least fifteen versions. The verdes and the smoky, very spicy A La Diabla draw the most devotees. It's Eater's list of Chicago's best Mexican restaurants.

A Jewish deli in the Bay Area is a rare enough thing that Saul's has been feeding North Berkeley for decades without much competition. The latkes are aggressively crunchy, the pastrami comes fatty and brined on rye with grainy mustard, and raspberry jam sits on every table like a standing invitation. Pancakes are fluffy in the way a diner promises but rarely delivers. Weekend brunch draws a crowd that clearly has nowhere more important to be.

One of the last dim sum parlors in Chinatown still rolling carts through the dining room, House of Joy fills fast on weekends, and the wait outside can stretch past an hour if you don't arrive early. Worth the patience: plates of rice noodles, pineapple buns, and chicken feet run a few dollars each, and the room itself, loud and bustling and completely unbothered by trends, does most of the convincing.

Wood-paneled walls and a parking lot that fills before most people have checked their phones: Harlow's is an old-school Tempe diner that hasn't felt the need to update anything. Booths pack in early birds and retirees at dawn, then hand off to the hangover crowd around nine. The coffee is black, the burritos are large, and the servers are the kind who remember how you take it. Phoenix New Times named it one of the ten best brunch spots in Phoenix.

The bright yellow building in Phoenix's Melrose District is hard to argue with at 7 a.m. Joe's is an old-school diner with booths, round group tables, and road signs on the walls, the kind of place where the coffee is black and nobody's trying to impress you. Weekends bring a line out front, which the regulars seem to take as confirmation rather than inconvenience. The biscuits and gravy and oversized burritos do the heavy lifting.

The owl-themed knick-knacks, artwork, and furniture covering every surface are all for sale, which is either charming or a lot to process before coffee. This casual brunch cafe imported its loyal following from Flagstaff, where lines used to stretch down the street on weekends. Giant cinnamon rolls, football-sized burritos, and a full vegan menu cover the table. The Newton location sits conveniently next to Changing Hands Bookstore, for after.

Babystacks is a casual, fairly small pancake-and-skillet breakfast spot that settles the sweet-versus-savory argument by serving short stacks as a side to your actual meal. Red velvet with cream cheese sauce can sit next to a loaded potato skillet, and nobody at the table has to lose. Weekend mornings fill up fast, so arrive early or settle in for a wait that can stretch past an hour.

The mimosa flight arrives in four small glasses, each a different juice, which is either charming or a mild content-marketing stunt depending on your mood. Black Walnut is a casual, multi-location brunch cafe where the menu runs comforting and familiar: eggs Benedict, chorizo migas, a buttery croissant sandwich. Weekend mornings draw a crowd that has strong feelings about where to brunch, and this is one of their answers.

The fried chicken biscuit comes with a wooden skewer through it just to hold the whole thing together, which tells you something about the kitchen's ambitions. This Southern-Southwestern brunch spot from the family behind Lo-Lo's Chicken and Waffles leans into the occasion: tableside bananas Foster, a full cocktail menu you can nurse past noon, and a cheerful indoor-outdoor room that has enough energy to feel like a party without scaring off anyone's parents.

Frida Kahlo shares wall space with a pink-legged chameleon and a saguaro the size of a doorway, which tells you a lot about this cheerful Mexican brunch spot in downtown Glendale. Weekend mornings fill with families and kids while the drinks arrive dressed up: horchata in a jar with a peanut dulce de leche rim, cafe de olla in mismatched earthenware. The pambazo, a football-sized sandwich dunked in guajillo chile, is not a thing you order by accident.