The 22 Best Gastropubs in the United States

The courtyard at this Design District gastropub has been full since before the neighborhood had boutiques worth shopping in. Michael Schwartz's wood-fired, farm-sourced menu holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand and landed a New York Times best-of list, which hasn't made the regulars any harder to find. Concrete floors, a good bar, and a crowd that ranges from deal-closers to friend-catchers keep the room feeling like somewhere rather than somewhere to be seen.

The wood-paneled room feels like a London gastropub that somehow ended up in Newton Center, which is exactly what the team was going for. Breads, pastas, and ice creams are all made in-house, and the menu shifts with the seasons rather than overstaying its welcome. A pint alongside roast chicken is the obvious move, but the kitchen goes further than it needs to for a neighborhood spot, which is why regulars keep coming back.

Taxidermy specimens on loan from the Natural History Museum share wall space with mounted trophies, giving this gastropub the look of a library that got lost on a hunting trip. The Contemporary New American menu leans hearty, with Asian inflections woven through comfort-food staples. The Michelin Guide has noted it, and the crowd skews stylish. Maybe leave your most ethically sensitive friend at the hotel.

Dark wood, red banquettes, checkerboard floors, and walls lined with caricatures of people who were famous before anyone in the room was born. Minetta Tavern is an old-school Greenwich Village steakhouse and tavern that has been around forever and wears it without apology. The menu leans classic, the burger has its own mythology, and the pommes aligot alone could anchor an argument. The room fills fast, and nobody seems in a hurry to leave.

One of Us is a sports gastropub in North Park where the screens default to women's games, with soccer, basketball, hockey, and softball running daily and the men's games allowed in for the big occasions. The kitchen leans on a coal-fired oven for pizza and smoked wings, and the cocktails are named for penalties and goals, so ordering a Yellow Card is a bit you'll commit to. Eater listed it among San Diego's best new restaurants in October 2026.

Black Briar is a gastropub in the old Bar Takito space on North Morgan, which means it has 110 seats and a menu that wanders from raw oysters to venison tartare without apologizing. Snail toast shares the page with handmade cavatelli, so nobody has to commit to a single personality. There's a U-shaped bar for the solo diners and an open kitchen for anyone who likes to watch dinner get argued over.

The ales are named after tax terms, which is either the best brewing pun or the most on-brand origin story you'll ever hear. This gastropub a few blocks from Lucas Oil Stadium pours Belgian-style beers alongside a menu built on Indiana-grown meat and produce. The kitchen leans hearty, think brisket croquettes and beer-battered pork tenderloin with Belgian fries. The cocktail list takes itself only slightly more seriously than the beer names do.

A 30-foot mesquite bar that stretches indoors and out sets the tone at this Oro Valley gastropub. The patio comes rigged with misters, a gas fire pit, and heaters, so the Santa Catalina views are on offer year-round. Rotating taps keep the beer side moving, and the kitchen leans into crowd-pleasing pub food. Comfortable in the way a place is when it's thought through rather than just decorated.

Thirty beers on tap and a whiskey wall that takes a minute to read: this is a gastropub in St. Philip's Plaza with exposed brick, wood beams, and a patio worth claiming on a good Tucson evening. The kitchen grinds its own burger meat, finishes it with bacon jam, and handles brunch on weekends. The bar runs late, closing at 2 a.m., which explains the crowd still there long after dinner has become a memory.

An Irish gastropub in Shirlington where the full Irish breakfast runs on weekdays too, not just weekends. The owner is from Tipperary, and it shows: rashers, puddings, beans, eggs, and a potato cake with homemade brown bread on the plate. The kind of place where a pint and a proper fry-up at noon on a Tuesday feels entirely reasonable, which is really the whole point of an Irish pub.

A gastropub on Dauphin Street where the cocktail list is doing as much heavy lifting as the kitchen. Seafood-forward plates and bao buns lean into Gulf Coast ingredients with some international detours, but the drinks, ranging from a classic sidecar to a tequila-rosemary-squid-ink creation called Eight Arms: No Legs, are what people talk about after. Grab a swinging seat on the patio if you can; the French Quarter-ish street architecture makes for good company.

A West Valley brewpub that treats its kitchen with the same seriousness as its taps, Peoria Artisan Brewery makes its bar food from scratch, which is not a given at a place where most people came for the pint. Expect thick Arizona Angus burgers, dry-rubbed wings, and fat pretzels with cheddar fondue. Behind the kitchen, a speakeasy-style chef's table runs a separate, more ambitious menu for nights when a burger won't cut it.