The Best Restaurants in the United States

Floor-to-ceiling windows face the marina, and the room leans into it with a chandelier big enough to mean business. This is a dim sum hall in Alameda, the check-box slip-and-tray kind, with a menu that mixes traditional and modern. The baked pork puffs, shiny and sesame-flecked, are the thing to track down when the cart comes by. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's best dim sum.

The breakfast burrito, Santa Fe will tell you, was invented here. Palacio is a casual adobe cafe where the signature move is ordering "Christmas-style," meaning both red and green chile sauces blanketing your burrito at once. The room feels like someone's well-loved dining room, which is more or less the point. The paninis pull a surprising crowd too, the Cuban Reuben among them, but the chile sauces are what keeps regulars from ever really leaving.

Pool tables in the main room set the tone, but the kitchen is doing more than bar food should. Palo Santo is a casual bar and grill where the team brought a Los Angeles sensibility to Oklahoma City, with katsu chicken sandwiches and tacos sharing the menu with serious cocktails. The warm mezcal and Oaxacan hot chocolate drink is the kind of thing that makes you rethink leaving before one more round.

Layered fries stacked into tidy golden blocks are the surprising star of a menu that otherwise runs toward caviar service and bourbon-smoked elk loin. Parc is Aspen's classic white-tablecloth French-American restaurant, the one locals book when something is worth celebrating, which in Aspen is apparently always. The lounge and bar take walk-ins on a shorter, friendlier menu if you didn't plan ahead, which in Aspen is apparently also always.

Lazy Susans on every large table and clubby blue ceiling lights give this San Leandro dim sum house more party energy than you'd expect from a shopping plaza. The menu runs through the classics: taro cakes, pork siu mai, rice rolls stuffed with shrimp and yellow chives. The shrimp balls arrive so crunchy that staff split them tableside with scissors, which is a small performance worth witnessing. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's top dim sum spots.

This is a no-frills bagel counter in Jackson that serves its bagels untoasted on principle, and the staff holds that line even when a customer shows up with a personal toaster. The huckleberry cream cheese is the local move, and a mocha-style frozen drink with an espresso shot covers the caffeine. Breakfast and lunch still come in under $10, so there's a line of rafters and park-bound early risers.

The North Beach spot that used to be the legendary Washbag is now Petite Lil's, a French bistro that seems perpetually mid-renovation, with paint swatches on the walls and a sawhorse in the corner whose handler has quietly relocated to a barstool. The menu leans French, running from a proper omelet to a tomahawk steak with anchovy butter, and bone marrow arrives with an optional green Chartreuse luge, which is exactly the kind of upsell you say yes to.

Pho Auntie 7 started as a home kitchen before becoming Castro Valley's go-to Vietnamese spot, and the soul of that origin still shows. It's a casual sit-down restaurant where the soups are good but the street food is the reason to linger: crispy banh xeo crepes stuffed with pork and shrimp, and chewy steamed banh beo rice cakes. Wash either down with fresh sugarcane juice or a salty plum soda and you're in no rush to leave.

Pica's is a casual Mexican spot in a strip center behind an Albertsons in Wilson, which is not where you'd expect the town's best-regarded burrito to live. The burritos arrive large enough to cover two dinners, and ordering one "wet" buries it in chipotle enchilada sauce, salsa fresca, sour cream, and cheese. The room is plain, tables are rarely a fight, and takeout is clearly the main sport. The Infatuation put it on its Jackson Hole list.

You walk down a staircase into a basement that has been Polish since before your parents were born, all dark wood, stained glass, and checkered tablecloths. This is a Hamtramck cafe for stuffed cabbage, potato pancakes, and pierogi, served in portions that assume you've been shoveling snow. The bar does a fine Zywiec and a better view of the room, and the Infatuation lists it among Detroit's best restaurants.

This Russian restaurant on El Cajon Boulevard has walls covered in mismatched paintings and messages from past diners, plus a line of patient people on the sidewalk who'd like you to know the secret hideaway is not a secret. The menu runs to beef stroganoff, bright pink borscht, and a Georgian cheese bread boat that a server stirs tableside. Bring your own Sharpie if you want to leave a note on the wall.

Teochew rice porridge, served in a clay pot, is what draws people to this casual Millbrae spot, and it does the job quietly and well. The gingery porridge is technically for two but has a way of multiplying when chive pancakes and an order of Chinese doughnuts join the table. Pick your add-ons, crab and prawn being the house move, then customize the bowl with scallions and preserved olive vegetables at the table.

A Salvadoran pupuseria in a Rockville strip mall, run by a family whose roots in the craft go back a generation in El Salvador. The menu runs nearly 30 styles, from the classic cheese-and-chicharrón to shrimp with mint and kale, all served hot off the griddle and freshly blistered. The New York Times put it on their D.C. restaurant list. Come at breakfast and order the signature pupusa with eggs in a red sauce that has no business being that good.

The empanada is the whole point here, and the team makes them by hand every morning in flavors that cover more ground than you'd expect: mushroom-seitan for vegans, halal lamb, a breakfast version, and several more. This bright, compact downtown spot runs the full Ecuadorian-inflected menu, from arroz con pollo with sweet plantains to a pork sandwich with chipotle-lime mayo. A grab-and-go case handles the lunch rush when it comes.

A rambling hacienda-style New Mexican restaurant set in a maze of adobe rooms and tiled patios along the High Road to Taos, Rancho De Chimayó has been around forever and moves at a pace that matches the landscape. The house cocktail mixes cider and tequila, a local invention from the area's apple-farming days. Order the green chile stew alongside it and you'll understand why people drive out from Santa Fe just for lunch.

The she-crab soup has been on the menu forever, and regulars treat it as non-negotiable. Red Sky is a casual all-day cafe in Duck running lunch, dinner, and Sunday brunch, the kind of place that does fish tacos and short ribs under the same roof without making it feel like an identity crisis. The OBX spin on a Calabash platter draws a crowd, and Sunday brunch brings out a shrimp-and-risotto dish billed, cheerfully, as "Redneck."

The larb comes one way: hot or Thai hot, and the co-owner will tell you which to order. This neighborhood Thai bistro in North Miami runs on Isan flavors, the kind that are fragrant and punchy in equal measure, and the whole fried snapper with house chile sauce has regulars coming back for it specifically. The New York Times named it among Miami's 25 best restaurants. Small room, big cooking, and Ricky himself helps out over the summer.

The handmade corn tortillas here taste like an actual ear of corn decided to become a taco, and they're sturdy enough to hold the juiciest fillings without folding on you. This taqueria sits near Lake Merritt, which makes eating outside feel less like a picnic and more like a civic event. Classic fillings, snappy carrot pickles, and carnitas that manage to be both chewy and crisp, from a team that grew up in East Oakland taco royalty.

House-made pita arrives before anything else at this Mediterranean restaurant in north Oklahoma City's Chisholm Creek development, and the table tends to fill fast with hummus, baba ghanoush, and muhammara before the shareable mains show up. The chef pulls from Greece, Morocco, the Levant, and occasionally the Basque Country, which is either inspired range or a very long grocery list. Braised lamb shank and tajine-braised short ribs anchor the menu.

The patio fireplace faces the Black Warrior River, which is either a nice coincidence or the whole point. River is a sit-down Southern restaurant with a menu that moves from fried green tomatoes and wild game meatballs to shrimp and grits and steaks. The room skews cozy, the crowd runs loyal, and the homemade oatmeal creme pie is apparently a nod to a certain famous former football coach's breakfast habits.

Hat Yai-style fried chicken is the reason to know this casual Berkeley Thai spot, where a rice flour batter does double duty as marinade and delivers a thin, shattering crust topped with fried shallots. You order from a touch screen, the staff will walk you through the menu, and the sweet chile sauce that comes alongside is fine, but the prik nam pla is the move.

A photo of Keanu Reeves in the window is this Tenderloin Thai spot's unofficial marquee, and the barbecued pork shoulder is the reason he keeps coming back. The fish sauce marinade gets charred on a grill and turns up three ways: over fried rice, in a salad with toasted rice powder, or straight with a dipping sauce. A cash-and-plastic neighborhood joint where the regulars look comfortable enough to be furniture.

Saigon Seafood Harbor runs a hybrid system: you fill out a paper order slip, then carts bring the food anyway. It's a dim sum parlor in a Sunnyvale strip, and the barbecue pork buns arrive with that glassy, lacquered top that signals someone is paying attention. The siu mai gets a drizzle of chile oil, and the scallop dumplings are translucent little parcels with enough celery to keep things bright. Weekend tables fill fast, so come early or come hungry enough to wait.

A halal market in West Oakland where the grocery aisles give way to a dining room out back serving pita sandwiches, mixed grill plates, and a rotating spread of Yemeni specialties. The saltah, a lamb and fenugreek soup served in a stone bowl, arrives bubbling and practically orders the flatbread for you. Stock your pantry, grab lunch, or do both, which most people here seem to be doing.

The name itself tells the story: "San" for San Francisco, "Jalisco" for the Mexican state where the family's roots are. This homey, generations-run breakfast and lunch spot on South Van Ness has been feeding the Mission's hangovers with chilaquiles and huevos rancheros for decades. The weekend birria special draws its own crowd, served either as a rich stew or dry with the broth alongside, which is the move.

Sartiano's is a high-end Italian steakhouse on the Strip, with a patio that looks out over Wynn's private fairways and the Sphere glowing behind them. It sits next door to the celebrity-heavy members' club Zero Bond, and the room carries some of that hush. Expect an expense-account crowd, caviar cannoli to start, and meatballs that quietly steal the show from the steaks. It's polished without being stiff.

A downtown Latin restaurant where the salsa section gets its own dedicated menu real estate, which tells you something about priorities. The chef, a Wilmington native, does BLT arepas and blackened tuna over cilantro-lime quinoa alongside tacos and tostadas at lunch. Sunday brunch draws a crowd large enough that you'd be wise to plan ahead. The vibe is casual and local, the flavors are bright, and the room moves.

The Rufina Taproom sits a short walk from Meow Wolf, which tells you something about the crowd rolling in. This is a brewpub, casual and spacious, with house beers, burgers, and a Cuban sandwich that regulars treat as non-negotiable. The Cajun-leaning sides, spiced tater tots included, are a small surprise on an otherwise straightforward menu. Live music fills the room on weekends, and nobody seems to be in a hurry to leave.

A cozy Ethiopian lunch spot tucked into a San Jose shopping center, where regulars sip tea and read newspapers like they've been coming for years. The vegetarian combo is the move, with lentils done two ways and a shiro with a deep, bouquet-cube savoriness that's hard to place but easy to finish. The injera has a smooth, almost elastic pull to it. Pair everything with hot tea, because that's what the room does.

A Vietnamese restaurant that gave the North Bay's food scene something to talk about, Simmer runs an expansive menu with serious attention to vegetarian and gluten-free options alongside the classics. The crispy tofu with lemongrass, herbs, and rice noodles is a reason to skip the meat entirely, and the filet mignon phở eases in anyone still finding their footing with the canon. Casual, affordable, and easy to bring everyone to.

The Huang family has been pressing organic artisan tofu here for decades, and the shop has quietly grown into a full hub for Taiwanese vegetarian cooking. Pick up frozen dumplings, house soy products, or pull up to the hot bar and have things ladled into a bento box. Not every item is vegan, but the staff will tell you exactly where anything lands. The San Francisco Chronicle named it one of the Bay Area's top vegetarian and vegan spots.

Carbonara croquetas dusted with cured egg yolk tell you everything about what Michelle Bernstein is doing at her first restaurant with her name on the door in nearly a decade. It's a Spanish-Mediterranean dinner spot in Coral Gables where the menu traces her life, from a Jewish Argentine upbringing to time spent cooking with grandmothers across Spain, Morocco, and Hungary. The result is personal in a way that most "globally inspired" menus only pretend to be.

A glass-encased grill loaded with imported binchotan charcoal sits at the center of the room, which tells you more about this izakaya than any menu description could. Sumika is the kind of skewer-and-small-plates spot where the smoke does the seasoning, from pork-wrapped enoki to grilled chicken finished with sour plum sauce. The oyakodon, smoky chicken over rice with a barely-set egg, is quietly the thing to order.

The sashimi-grade fish counter is the reason most people make the drive to this Japanese grocery and prepared-foods shop in San Mateo. Pick up hand-rolled onigirazu stuffed with Spam and egg, seaweed salad by the pound, or one of around twenty bento options at lunch. Pre-cut sashimi gets discounted toward closing, which the regulars have long figured out.

Mesquite coals keep the asada lightly charred and the chorizo properly crisp at this Oakland taco truck, and the tortillas are pressed by hand, which changes the math on everything else. The Villa family runs it Tijuana-style, so each taco arrives wrapped in a paper cone with a thick scoop of guacamole. The grilled meats draw the crowd, but the fatty cabeza with salsa verde is what the regulars know to order.

Tall Trees is a tiny Ferndale counter spot for breakfast and lunch, where the sandwiches arrive on focaccia or sesame-crusted semolina batards and stand tall enough to need a plan of attack. It's a forest-green, wood-toned room, so even grabbing takeout feels faintly like a spa visit. Show up at peak lunch and you'll wait with everyone else who saw the photos. It's on The Infatuation's list of Detroit's best restaurants.