The Best Italian Food in the United States

Piero's is an old-school Italian dining room just off the Strip, with oversized leather booths, candlelight, and the lingering suggestion that someone at the next table is discussing something other than linguine. The bar is moody enough that the FBI reportedly once staked it out, which tells you how long the martinis have been this good. Expect a jacket-and-dinner-plans crowd, and a Garbage Caesar that sounds like an insult and isn't.

The team behind Boia De runs this wood-fired New American spot a few doors down, with no gas stove in sight. What's surprising is that vegetables do most of the heavy lifting: the lasagna sheets are made from mustard greens, and the menu treats produce with the same care you'd expect from a proper steakhouse. Pizza and some meat round things out, but the room is casual enough that kids and couples share tables without anyone feeling out of place.

Regulars who speak Italian with the owner and never bother with the menu fill the bar at this cozy Rockridge enoteca. The kitchen leans into Piemonte, which means brasato over polenta and house-made pastas that are the main event. The tortino, a spinach flan with egg yolk and truffle, is the kind of quiet overachiever that makes you ignore everything else you ordered.

Itria takes its name from an ancient Syrian word for pasta, which tells you something about how seriously the kitchen takes the subject. This modern Italian fine dining spot on 24th Street runs a tight menu built around crudo and house-made pasta, where a light, unfussy hand does most of the convincing. Bar seating lines the center corridor, and a communal wood table anchors the back, giving the room an easy, convivial feel.

The name comes from "shokunin," a Japanese word for total devotion to a craft, which tells you something about how seriously Sean Brock takes his pizza. This Neapolitan slice spot in Riverside Village has a domed wood-fired oven imported from Italy and a glass-walled prep area where you can clock exactly where the cheese and cured meats came from. The crust is cold-fermented slow and bakes up light enough that you'll order a second. Michelin Bib Gourmand.

Upstairs on Main Street, this downtown Italian restaurant fills up fast enough that the full-service bar exists partly as a pressure valve for the reservationless. The menu runs a clean Italian line from handmade pasta through to secondi, with the wine list holding its own alongside both. A James Beard semifinalist nod for beverage service in 2026 says something about where the priorities land.

The tap pours house wine, which tells you something about this Italian restaurant's priorities. Via Triozzi, on Lower Greenville, runs one of the deeper natural wine programs in Dallas, sourced from small family vineyards, and the kitchen matches that energy with a lasagne al forno that commits fully to its Bolognese. Texas Monthly named it among the state's top new restaurants, and Eater lists it as essential. The room fills early and stays that way.

The wood-fired oven sits open to the room in a space that feels more like a late-night bar than a pizza parlor, which tells you something about the crowd. This is a Neapolitan pizza spot with a serious reputation, ranked in the 50 Top Pizza USA and a James Beard semifinalist. The dough is the whole argument here, and the team has been refining it long enough that regulars tend to skip the menu.

The grilled pizza here goes directly onto the flame, which does something to the crust that an oven simply cannot: a char-edged, smoke-threaded base that's thin enough to feel light but sturdy enough to carry its toppings. This is a full-menu Italian restaurant, not a slice shop, so come ready for pasta and roasted vegetables too. The room is bright, the pace is brisk, and the drinks list is short but chosen with care.

Pasta is the point at this Italian restaurant on Mass Ave, where around nine varieties rotate through the menu on any given night. The all-Italian wine list keeps things honest, and the counter seats along one wall are held for walk-ins if you didn't plan ahead. It fills up fast and stays full, but the room handles it without breaking a sweat. A Michelin Selected pick that also made the New York Times' Boston shortlist.

A dining room with a hand-shaped table at its center sets the tone for this Neapolitan Italian spot in South Miami. Antipasti and secondi arrive family-style for the table to share, while the menu leans into Neapolitan classics, slow-cooked ragù and pasta alla Genovese, reworked with a chef's eye for unexpected pairings. The cocktail list skews international, the service stays warm, and the whole thing landed on the 50 Top Italy world ranking.

Bar Tutto is an all-day Italian cafe from Top Chef winner Joe Flamm, which means you can start with a pastry and an egg sandwich and, if the day cooperates, still be there when the handmade pasta shows up. The wood-fired grill handles razor clams and prawns with Calabrian chile, and the Fernet-leaning cocktail list suggests the staff has opinions about digestivi. It was a James Beard semifinalist for Outstanding Restaurateur.

The stone hearth oven sits open to the dining room, so you can watch the pies come together while you wait. This is a casual pizza and pasta spot with a very Tucson idea of Italian-American cooking, blending Sonoran flavors into the repertoire with a straight face. Birria on a pizza, red chile folded into an Alfredo, a cannoli served as a taco. The room runs warm and woody, the vibe is neighborhood, and nothing on the menu takes itself too seriously.

A wood-burning oven does the heavy lifting at this intimate Italian steakhouse tucked into Nancy Silverton's Melrose compound. The kitchen leans hard into live fire and big cuts, with cooking that's boldly seasoned and more seasonal than you'd expect from a place where meat is basically the religion. The wine list runs deep into Italy. Booking is tight, and the room fills fast with people who clearly did not come to order a salad.

A coal-fired Neapolitan pizza shop a short walk from Coors Field, Marco's holds the only certification from the Associazione Verace Pizza Napoletana in Colorado, which is basically a notarized letter from Naples saying the pies are correct. The crust is blistered and chewy in the right proportions. Substitutions on the Neapolitan pies are not allowed, which will sort the room into people who appreciate that and people who ask anyway.

Servers in black tie bring little stools for your purse so it never touches the floor, which tells you exactly what kind of Italian restaurant Fat Ox is. The room is chic and the wine arrives in individual decanters. Handmade pastas are the reason to linger, including a 25-layer lasagna that earns its reputation quietly. Valet out front, Paradise Valley money inside, and the bread alone makes a case before the menu does.

Handmade tajarin, dressed with nothing but butter and sage, has made this Capitol Hill trattoria a quiet institution. The kitchen pulls from Italy's Piedmont region, so the menu runs rich and restrained in equal measure. The room is candlelit and close, the kind of place where a weeknight dinner somehow turns into a long one. The sibling bar next door, Artusi, handles digestifs and desserts if you're not ready to leave, which you won't be.

Wood-fired pizzas rotate with the season at this Italian-American restaurant on a tree-lined stretch of Winter Park, where vaulted ceilings, exposed brick, and caramel leather booths make the room feel like someone spent real money on "rustic." The kitchen leans heavily on the pizza oven, and the toppings tend toward the unexpected. A Michelin Selected restaurant, it pulls a reliably well-dressed crowd that fills the central bar as steadily as the booths.

The terrace alone, lush and open-air, makes a case for lingering over a second glass. This fine dining room inside the Four Seasons runs on family recipes from the chef's own upbringing, which gives the modern Italian menu a warmer footing than the sleek, high-ceilinged space might suggest. Pastas are made in-house, the limoncello is too, and the crowd here dresses like they have dinner reservations, because they do.

Nick Curtola's trattoria across from sibling bar The Four Horsemen handles regional Italian with the kind of restraint that makes everything taste more intentional. Braised beef tendon shaved thin over acidic onions is the opening move, and it tells you exactly what kind of kitchen this is. Handmade pasta and rustic mains follow that same logic. The tiramisu is feather-light and enormous. Reservations go fast, but the bar at opening is a fine consolation.

The wood-burning oven is the heart of this Marina pizzeria, turning out Neapolitan-style pies with a smoky char while the open kitchen keeps the whole room warm and lively. The menu leans rustic Italian, pies and pastas shifting with the season, and the wine list ranges across regions most Italian restaurants ignore. Counter seats facing the oven are the ones to ask for. The Michelin Guide has given it a Bib Gourmand, and the room fills fast with families and regulars who booked ahead.

Wine by the bottle at retail price with a corkage fee is the kind of policy that fills a room on a Tuesday afternoon, and this California-Italian restaurant in Bankers Hill stays packed regardless. The menu runs seasonal salads, fresh pasta, and brick oven pizzas with playful twists, pepperoni with Calabrian chili and a honey drizzle being the sort of thing that sounds odd and then disappears fast. The Michelin Guide has awarded it a Bib Gourmand.

Handmade pasta rooted in Roman and Lazio tradition is the point here, and Evan Funke's Italian restaurant inside the Fontainebleau takes that seriously enough to make everything else on the Strip feel like a reheated punchline. The room is modern rustic, open enough to clock the occasional famous face drifting through, with quieter tables along the edges for anyone who'd rather not. Seasonal antipasti, handmade pasta, the full Roman heritage treatment.

Tuna crudo in charred green tomato aguachile is not the Italian that built this city's red-gravy reputation, and that's the whole point. This trattoria in the Faubourg Marigny does vegetable-driven antipasti, fresh pasta, Neapolitan pizza, and roasted meat with a lightness that locals treat as a minor civic relief. The New York Times named it among the 25 best restaurants in New Orleans, which feels about right for the neighborhood canteen that quietly rewrote the local Italian conversation.

The wood-burning oven is the whole point here, and it runs hot enough that pies come out of it faster than the counter moves. Stellina is a casual neo-Neapolitan pizzeria in Union Market territory, with colorful tiles, red stools, and the kind of blistered, chewy crust that makes "simple counter service" feel like a charitable description. The fritti is a good opening move, and the tiramisu won't embarrass anyone. The Michelin Guide has given it a Bib Gourmand.

The handkerchief pasta, mandilli di seta, arrives dressed in Ligurian almond basil pesto and tends to settle the question of what to order. This modern Italian restaurant inside the Venetian seats over 150 across a room of forest green, reclaimed wood, and Art Deco light fixtures, which sounds like a lot but reads warmer than it has any right to. The menu runs from focaccina to porchetta, with fresh pasta doing most of the heavy lifting.

Michael White's fine dining room in Midtown splits into several spaces that somehow still feel close and quiet, the kind of place where the lighting does a lot of work. The menu moves through the Italian south, from Amalfi coastline seafood to grilled secondi, with pasta doing most of the heavy lifting. Orecchiette with blue crab and sea urchin is the kind of dish that makes the rest of the menu feel like a warm-up act.

Country-style curtains, a front porch, and the kind of wood-framed bones that look like a grocery from another century make Ciccio feel like the Napa Valley everyone was promised before the tasting menus arrived. It's a busy Italian restaurant, and tables are hard to come by. Wood-fired pizzas come with blistered, puffy crusts, handmade pasta covers the bases, and the pork chop Milanese runs large enough to cause regret. The Michelin Guide awards it a Bib Gourmand.

The dirty pasta water martini has its own Esquire listing, which tells you something about how Fiorella operates. This South Philly pasta spot, a Michelin Bib Gourmand, runs a short, handmade menu out of what used to be a three-generation butcher shop. Marc Vetri's name is on it, the room is small, and the cacio e pepe is the kind that makes you stop talking mid-sentence.

The booths at this Beverly Hills Hotel restaurant have been hosting power lunches and quiet deal-making for about as long as anyone can remember. The menu leans American with a nod toward Italian, built around local and organic ingredients. In the evenings, a pianist keeps things warm and a little old-fashioned in the best way. The crowd tends toward people who don't need to check the prices.

Fresh pasta rolled in-house daily anchors the menu at this casually upscale Italian restaurant in Sandy. The room lands somewhere between date night and neighborhood staple, where charcuterie boards make a reasonable case for never ordering a main course. Bone-in ribeye and seared scallops with saffron emulsion suggest the kitchen is happy to range past the pasta, which is admirable restraint given how good the pasta is.

The Indian-inflected Italian restaurant in the Highlands neighborhood where the chef's masala aioli turns up on elk tartare and the pasta always involves goat. Her husband painstakingly sources small-producer wines from across Italy and makes his own amari in-house, which is either obsessive or exactly right. The room is intimate and the hospitality famously warm. A James Beard semifinalist for Outstanding Hospitality, and the reputation makes sense from the first drink forward.

Karen Akunowicz's Italian restaurant in South Boston earns a Michelin Bib Gourmand for the kind of pasta that makes you quietly resent every other pasta you've ever eaten. The long bar up front fills fast, banquettes stretch back for the slower evening, and focaccia stuffed with taleggio lands before you've figured out what else to order. The room runs from parents with kids to couples just starting their night, which somehow all works.

A complimentary splash of bubbles lands on your table the moment you sit down, which sets the tone nicely for a Montrose pizza and pasta spot that's got more going on than it lets on. The wood-fired oven does most of the talking, and the honey cake with crème fraîche gelato has a way of making people miss their plans. The Michelin Guide has given it a Bib Gourmand, and the wine list is longer than you'd expect.

A large-scale mural by the restaurateur's wife anchors the moody dining room, which looks out onto a park while downtown Fort Worth closes in around it. This polished Italian osteria threads West Texas cooking through the menu, leaning on wild game and simple ingredients to blur the line between the Hill Country and the Apennines. The wine list skews Italian and smartly so.

The views of Mission Bay and the Giants' ballpark hit you before the menu does, which is saying something at this fine dining Italian in Mission Rock. The room leans into sun-faded Tuscan coastal tones, warm wood, and low light that flatters everyone. Pasta is the kitchen's clearest argument: hand-rolled pici in slow-cooked garlic and tomato, Dungeness crab orzo cooked risotto-style. Esquire named the martini one of the country's finest, which gives you somewhere to start.

The entrance is easy to miss: a staircase beside Boca's red door, leading well below street level. Sotto is a pasta-forward Italian speakeasy downtown, where the team makes things by hand and pours a lot of table wine, and the antipasti menu will quietly destroy your willpower before the main event arrives. Truffle season turns the tajarin into something quietly serious. The descent sets the mood, and there are enough steps that ordering a second pasta feels almost responsible.

The dirty martini bucatini, made with vodka sauce, blue cheese, and charred pickled onions, tells you everything about this Sunnyside pasta shop. The team behind the sandwich counter next door brought the same no-rules energy here, with cocktails running on pasta water vodka and ricotta-washed rum. Eater named it one of Denver's best new restaurants, and Westword called it the top no-rules pasta shop in the city.

Named for a fish stew from the Adriatic coast, this Italian-Croatian restaurant sets up in Raleigh Iron Works alongside a cluster of eateries and offices. The menu moves from crudo and pasta through wood-fired fish to peka, a slow-cooked Croatian dish of octopus and potatoes over fire. The wine list takes Italy region by region, with particular growers called out. A James Beard Outstanding Restaurateur semifinalist in 2025, and in the Michelin Guide.

New York-style pies with a slightly puffed, almost Neapolitan edge are the calling card at this pizzeria in Baltimore's Little Italy. The dough is made by hand, the ingredients skew Italian, and the menu rounds out with salads and baked fillings. The family behind it rebuilt after Katrina, which perhaps explains why the place feels like it has something to prove. Ranked 44th on 50 Top Pizza USA.

The baked Alaska arrives tableside with the kind of theater that makes you glad you dressed up. Mister Charles is an Italian-influenced French restaurant in Dallas where the room is sweeping and the menu runs from fusilli with caviar to wagyu beef Wellington, with canapes and showy presentations filling the space between. The wine list is substantial, the cocktails are deft, and nobody here is pretending this is a casual Tuesday.

Lines form outside this old-school neighborhood Italian restaurant well before the doors open, which tells you most of what you need to know. The menu runs to hearty, unapologetic comfort food, think cheese-stuffed chicken drowning in both Alfredo and marinara at once. The move, though, is to arrive early enough to catch a complimentary slice of red velvet cake, delivered tableside while supplies last. A James Beard Outstanding Hospitality Semifinalist in 2025.

Velvet chairs, copper fixtures, and stained-glass lamps set a Prohibition-speakeasy mood on Avenue A, though the menu leans firmly into vegan Italian. Soda Club is a natural wine bar where house-made pasta carries the evening, the wine list skews minimal-intervention, and the whole thing holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand. The room is dim enough that everyone looks like they have secrets, which feels appropriate for a place named after Italian hand-crafted sodas.

The wood-fired oven does most of the talking at this compact Santa Monica pizzeria, turning out perfectly blistered pies with paper-thin crusts and a pound cake finished with honey and whipped cream that tends to upstage everything before it. Pasta and seasonal produce from the farmers' market round out the menu. Counter seats put you close enough to watch the whole operation, which is half the reason to sit there. Weekend brunch draws a crowd.

Monzú is a sit-down Italian restaurant in a Flamingo Road strip mall, where the red sauce tradition gets politely ignored. The menu leans Sicilian, with lamb croquettes wrapped in lemon leaves and a stack of crepes baked with meat sauce and béchamel. The rectangular pizzas rise from a starter said to be 300 years old, which makes it older than most of the city's zoning. Dinner-date prices, nothing you need a jacket for.

Kassi Beach House is a coastal Italian restaurant dressed up as an upscale beach shack, complete with a DJ spinning pop remixes at brunch and a steady supply of people photographing their eggs. The soft scrambled eggs with salsa verde are the quiet standout, and there's pasta for anyone who wants lunch to commit. Bottomless rosé on a poolside daybed is the move if you're prepared to treat Saturday as a project.

A vintage toy car holds down the check at this casual Italian restaurant in a former auto shop on Mount Pleasant Street. The menu shifts constantly, but lamb skewers with chili oil and bubble-crusted pizzas stay put, and the gelato arrives piled improbably high. The kitchen's commitment to good ingredients is quiet but obvious. Bon Appétit named it one of America's Best New Restaurants in 2024.

The spaghetti pomodoro at this Mission trattoria has its own cult following, which tells you something about how long Delfina has been doing this right. All pasta is made in-house, the wine list leans Italian with a few California strays, and a post-pandemic remodel left behind a handsome wood bar and gold accents. Casual enough for a Tuesday, but the room has enough polish that you won't feel underdressed for a date either.

A former diner in Candler Park, now very small and very Italian in the red-sauce-and-checkered-cloth spirit, though the kitchen wanders freely from that premise. Housemade pasta shares the menu with duck off a yakitori grill and fish roe deployed with unexpected confidence. The amaro list is taken seriously, and the tiramisù arrives in tidy little blocks. The New York Times put it on their Atlanta list, as did Esquire.

Bottiglia is a Tuscan enoteca out in Henderson whose weekend brunch doubles as a dress-code experiment, with a sunny dining room full of groups in their flashiest outfits working through bottomless mimosas and Aperol spritzes. A shellfish tower shares the table with avocado toast, and dessert is a chocolate stiletto made of ladyfingers and mascarpone, which is a sentence you only get to say at brunch.

A slender Fillmore Street room where skylights and an open kitchen keep things bright despite how tightly packed the tables run. SPQR is a fine dining Italian with a California accent, meaning the handmade pastas get dyed with squid ink and cocoa and the menu shifts with whatever the season is showing off. Chef Matthew Accarrino has been here long enough that regulars treat the bartender like an old friend on reunion night.

An Italian restaurant on Sycamore where the bread basket arrives housemade, breadsticks and focaccia folded in together, and the menu moves through antipasti, pasta, and secondi at a pace that discourages rushing. The crispy potato gnocchi has a following, and the malfatti comes cacio e pepe style, which is either a provocation or a compliment depending on your Roman loyalties. Tiramisu closes things out.

A wood-fired oven dominates the room of this Italian neighborhood bistro, tucked into a Hanahan strip mall between a Latin bakery and a grocery store. The chef's first solo venture draws a steady local pilgrimage from across greater Charleston for housemade pasta, focaccia, and wood-fired oysters on walnut tables. The meatballs have developed a following serious enough that regulars treat them as a standing order.

A roadside Italian restaurant on the drive out to Johns Island that rewards slowing down. The menu turns with the seasons, so regulars come back often enough that the staff tends to recognize them. Pasta, charred octopus, and vegetables sourced from local farmers the chef has worked with across a long Charleston career all show up regularly. The room handles birthdays, date nights, and mothers with equal composure.

Pizzas come out of a 900-degree wood-fired oven with properly blistered crusts, which tells you something about how seriously this Southern Italian restaurant takes the basics. Colorful fabrics and wood fixtures give the room a warm, lived-in feel, and the cooking leans rustic, with house-made pasta as the spine of the menu. It sits just off Liberty Public Market, which means the neighborhood does half the work of setting the mood before you even sit down.

Germantown was still dozing when this Italian-Southern trattoria and pizza spot opened, and it has been packing the room ever since. The kitchen treats Southern ingredients as native Italian speakers, so cavatelli gets field peas, cornmeal-crusted trout gets salsa verde, and summer pies get loaded with Tennessee tomatoes or ripe peaches. Leave room for dessert; the pastry chef has a following of her own.

A neon sign behind the open kitchen reads "Al Dente or Die," which tells you most of what you need to know about this downtown Phoenix pasta joint. Frank Ocean plays where Sinatra might, and "The Sopranos" loops on the wall behind the bar. The vodka sauce built a cult following when the place was a food truck, and the no-reservations line outside suggests that reputation held. Craft cocktails and low-intervention wines round things out.

A casual East Downtown wine bar and pizza spot where the menu shifts with the seasons but fennel sausage pizza and rigatoni Bolognese tend to anchor things. The vegetable dishes punch above their station, like a cabbage salad in pistachio-apricot agrodolce that sounds like a dare and tastes like a plan. Sister to Nancy's Hustle next door, which means the neighborhood is doing just fine.

The honey onyx bar is the same one New York regulars know, transplanted to Beverly Hills and looking very much at home on Camden Drive. This is fine dining, coastal Italian, and the room is styled like a billionaire's yacht without any apparent irony. Homemade pasta is the reason to linger, particularly the fusilli with the red wine-braised octopus that made the Manhattan original famous. The crowd skips dessert at their own peril.

A small mug of grated parm arrives alongside the lasagna alla Bolognese for table-side sprinkling, which tells you everything about this cozy Italian neighborhood restaurant in Ridgewood. The menu is short and unfussy, running from cured meats and fried calamari through cacio e pepe and branzino, with daily specials filling the gaps. Exactly the kind of place you start bringing your kids, and then keep going back to long after they've moved out.

A Neapolitan pizza shop tucked into a strip mall on Curry Ford Road, Pizza Bruno runs a wood-fired oven hot and a menu that takes genuine swings: one pie pairs fresh blueberries with mozzarella, fontina, honey, and bacon, and another makes the pineapple debate feel basically settled. The room is small and bright, with a neighborhood counter-service feel that keeps things casual while the pizza itself is doing something more ambitious.

Arched windows and red leather chairs frame a view of the Catalina Foothills at this upscale Italian restaurant in the foothills of Tucson. The room pulls off Tuscan-inspired warmth without sliding into theme-park territory, and the patio is the kind of place people book for anniversaries they've been planning since January. Service is attentive in the way that actually helps rather than hovers.

A converted townhouse in Tribeca that runs its own upstate farm, so the vegetables on your plate were probably pulled from the ground by someone who also designed the menu. One White Street is a contemporary restaurant with both à la carte and tasting menu options, housed in a wood-paneled room with marble and tilework that makes "intimate" feel earned rather than euphemistic. The kitchen leans into bold, produce-forward cooking with a Michelin Guide selection to its name.

Bottled sauces on a shelf near the door signal what kind of osteria this is: the food is good enough that people want to bring it home. On Beverly Blvd, Angelini has been around forever by LA standards, which is almost a punchline in a city that abandons its favorites by spring. The service runs old school and warm, and the lengthy Italian menu leans comfortably on what the regulars already know they're ordering.

Ceramic tiles, Mediterranean colors, and a terrace with a panoramic sweep of the La Jolla coastline set the mood at this modern Italian restaurant perched on the third floor of the Plaza Center. The kitchen leans into wood-fired Neapolitan pizza and pasta alongside composed starters that change with the market. Showing up early for aperitivo, with cocktails and snacks while the sun drops over the water, is not a bad plan at all.

Gold busts line the walls of this cavernous Upper West Side Italian restaurant, which reads as a deliberate joke at the expense of every shoebox apartment in the neighborhood. The menu runs the familiar Italian playbook, calamari to tiramisu, but the kitchen adds enough texture and brightness to keep it from feeling rote. Generous tables, a big room, and a wine list that rewards lingering make it a natural anchor for the block.

A floor-to-ceiling photo of Sophia Loren watches over the dining room at this Neapolitan pizza and pasta spot in North Park, where the concrete-and-exposed-pipe look is exactly as cool as the neighborhood demands. The kitchen leans traditional Southern Italian underneath all that industrial chic, turning out wood-fired pies and handmade pastas with real conviction. Dinner gets lively; lunch is for people who prefer to think.

The copper-topped bar fills up early with Rockridge regulars who treat this neighborhood restaurant like a second living room. It's Italian-inflected California cooking in a rustic room, the kind of place where the charcuterie board arrives before you've fully settled in. A Michelin Bib Gourmand, and surrounded by bookshops and antique stores, which tells you pretty much everything about the crowd.

The chef comes from a line of Italian bakers, and the pizza crust at this Peoria trattoria and pizzeria makes that lineage hard to miss, with blistered char and a chew that most Phoenix spots across town can't match. The menu runs well past pizza, into house-made porchetta, light gnocchi with cheese-heavy sauces, and fresh stuffed pastas. For a neighborhood that usually gets everyone else's leftovers, this one was built here from scratch.

Brezza is a Tuscan Italian restaurant at Resorts World where the steaks hang around in dry-aging for at least 100 days, long enough to pick up a funk that tastes a little like gorgonzola. The 16-ounce strip is the move, and the pappardelle with lamb ragu is easy to split. The dining room handles a business lunch fine, and the patio looks out at the Strip, which is a lot of neon to see over a plate of pasta.

A former drugstore in the Outer Richmond that went full Cal-Italian neighborhood restaurant, with the soaring ceilings and oversized windows to prove it. By day it's airy and bright; by night the candles take over and whole albums play instead of playlists, which is either charming or a statement. The kitchen does rustic pasta and seasonal proteins, and the Italian-leaning wine list is genuinely well-chosen.

The wine cave-like dining room holds over 1,500 bottles, curated by a sommelier who also runs the room. Ellina is a polished Italian restaurant that has been an Aspen anchor long enough to feel like the default answer when someone asks where to eat. Housemade pastas and chicken Milanese hold steady on the menu while the horseshoe bar handles Negronis and the patio on the Hyman pedestrian mall comes with blankets for cool summer nights.

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.

The courtyard alone explains why reservations disappear. Penny Roma is a casual Italian trattoria in the Mission from the Flour + Water team, with handmade pasta and a California instinct for what's in season at the farmers market this week. The room is dense with plants, the focaccia arrives puffed and fragrant, and the stuffed pasta tends toward the kind of richness that makes you forget you ordered a second glass of wine.

Sant Ambroeus runs the same reliable Milanese playbook it does in New York, the Hamptons, and Palm Beach, which tells you exactly who walks through the door. This sleek trattoria on Main Street does fritto misto, spaghetti al pomodoro, and black truffle pizza for a crowd that tends to know each other, or at least act like it. Long lunches are the format here. Il Baretto next door keeps aperitivo hour going indefinitely.

Counter-service pasta shop in Rockridge where everything on the menu costs less than a glass of wine at the place next door. You order at the register, grab a seat inside or out, and wait for housemade pasta that tracks the seasons, except for the spaghetti, which stays put year-round because nobody has complained. The Sfizio cocktail, amaro with tonic and lime, is a good reason not to order water.

An emerald-green bar anchors this clubby Roman-inspired dining room in downtown Bethesda, the kind of place where an Aperol spritz arrives before you've settled into your seat. The chef behind D.C.'s Red Hen runs the kitchen, and pasta is the main event, though the snacky bar bites and a lunchtime cheeseburger that has no business being this good keep things interesting. Upscale Italian without the starch.

Part Italian deli, part pantry raid, Roma Imports sits in an industrial stretch of Tucson where you'd least expect red-checkered tablecloths and a sandwich counter stacked with imported goods. Shelves of Italian provisions crowd the walls, freezers hum in the background, and the menu runs to serious cold-cut combinations on housemade bread. The kind of place where regulars order without looking up.

A neighborhood café, bakery, and grocery that's been around forever near the University of Arizona, Time Market does the wood-fired pizza and artisanal bread thing without making you feel like you wandered into a lifestyle brand. Exposed beams, polished floors, good natural light. The kind of place where grabbing lunch and leaving with a bottle of wine feels completely normal.