The Best Restaurants in the United States

The mole coloradito here comes from a recipe the chef started learning from her grandmother in Oaxaca at age five, and that kind of timeline tends to show. This is a small Oaxacan restaurant in Burien, colorful ceramics on every table, a handful of seats inside and a covered patio out back. The molotes, fried masa dumplings buried under smoky morita and avocado salsa, are a good reason to arrive hungry.

The enchiladas arrive sizzling on the plate, which tells you everything about the style of Tex-Mex this old-school Dallas institution runs on. The original McKinney Avenue location is a cavernous, sprawling room with a rowdy bar and tables packed with multigenerational families who have been coming here forever. Order the enchiladas, get a frozen margarita alongside them, and don't overthink it.

The spiral-tailed monkey painted on one wall gives the place its name and its vibe: a cheerful Peruvian restaurant with wood accents and geometric light fixtures that somehow feels both casual and considered. The antojitos trio is a good way in, landing beef hearts, jumbo corn, and causa on the table before you've made any real decisions. The San Francisco Chronicle named it one of Berkeley's best restaurants.

Turquoise glazed tiles, dramatic florals, and a sixth-floor view over Chinatown and Telegraph Hill set the tone before you've touched a menu. This is a tasting-menu Cantonese restaurant from the chef behind Hakkasan, and it carries that same instinct for precise, composed presentations of classic dishes. Come for cocktails if the full commitment feels like a lot; the view alone justifies the elevator ride.

Slim Aarons photographs line the walls at this après-ski casual spot on Bridge Street, giving the whole room the feeling of a 1960s ski-lodge fantasy your parents wish they'd actually lived. The menu leans into alpine comfort, with duck confit tacos and a wagyu burger doing most of the heavy lifting. Come sundown, the cocktails and the crowd arrive in roughly equal measure.

For the Win is a quick-serve burger counter inside the Resort at Summerlin's food hall, where it's one of a handful of stalls sharing a roof with dim sum and an oyster bar. The smash burgers come with grilled onions, and the Brussels sprouts get fried in beef tallow, which makes the vegetable course feel like a technicality. It's a fast, casual stop where you order at the counter and eat with your hands. Eater lists it among the best burgers in Las Vegas.

Fort Point Valencia is the Mission taproom for people who came for the beer and stayed for the cheeseburger. It's a thin-patty, double-american-cheese affair on a buttered sesame bun, with enough shredded lettuce to technically cover your vegetables for the day. Grab a table outside on a sunny Saturday, order a lager, and take the pace of the afternoon as seriously as the pint in your hand.

The full bar sets Fortune Nong Jia Le apart from its Wash Park sibling, though the kitchen stays on the same page: dumplings, Shanghainese noodles, and fried rice alongside heartier plates like crispy half duck in soy reduction and pork belly with potatoes. It's a casual Chinese restaurant that trends slightly more polished than most in its orbit, the kind of place where the menu reads like someone's grandmother is actually cooking.

Fresa's is a casual Mexican spot on North Lamar, easy to find thanks to a giant rotating neon chicken that does most of the marketing. The wood-grilled chicken anchors a menu of bowls and tacos for people who want to feel virtuous before noon. There's a drive-through for the days Austin heat turns the car into the only reasonable dining room. Order at the counter, keep it casual, and wear whatever survived the commute.

The live seafood tanks near the entrance set the agenda at this Cantonese dining room, where the kitchen has been turning out Hong Kong-style crab, lobster, and fresh fish for Houston since the family arrived from Hong Kong decades ago. Weekend dim sum draws a crowd that knows better than to sleep in. It's a big, bustling room, and the sweet-glazed barbecue pork alone tends to settle any argument about where to sit.

The Galloway Trail runs right past the back fence, so the patio fills up with cyclists and runners who've just earned something fried. This casual American bar and grill keeps things straightforward: big sandwiches, Frito pie, barbecue-sauced burgers, the kind of food that makes a two-hour ride feel like a sound investment. Sun shades cover the back-corner tables where you can hear the trail traffic rolling by outside.

Giordano's is a Chicago pizza chain built around the stuffed pie, which is deep dish with a second crust sealed over the cheese and then buried in tomato sauce, like a pizza that got tucked in for the night. Slices arrive tall and heavy, so plan on a fork and a nap. The menu riffs on gyros and Juicy Lucy burgers, and Eater has named it one of the city's deep-dish picks.

A no-frills Vietnamese lunch spot on the edge of Portsmouth Square, where the best move on a sunny day is to grab takeout and eat in the park while retired neighbors argue card games at the tables nearby. Pho, grilled meats, rice plates, and vermicelli salads are the whole program, exactly as advertised. The spring rolls, fried in rice paper, come out blistered and genuinely airy in a way that's hard to explain until you've had one.

The garlic fries alone have launched a thousand detours off the freeway. Gott's is a California roadside grill doing burgers and shakes with Niman Ranch beef and seafood sourced with the same seriousness, which is more than most places in this price range bother with. The classic cheeseburger hits the produce-and-seared-beef formula cleanly, and when the soft-shell crab sandwich is on the menu, it's the move. Plenty of outdoor tables if the sun cooperates.

Gourmet Island is a weekday-only lunch counter in a Ruffin Road business park, where the salad menu runs long enough to need its own filing system. Eater put it on its list of the best salads in San Diego. The family behind it has been at this for ages, and the daily specials that catch on get promoted to the permanent menu. Order at the counter, then take your arugula and beets out to the open-air patio, ideally before the cubicle rush.

A small French sandwich shop on Cedar Street where the main event is a buttermilk-fried chicken cutlet on a Semifreddi's roll, craggy-coated and topped with a creamy, spicy slaw. The potato puffs are the other reason people come, little pillowy spheres that have built a loyal following on their own. A few sidewalk tables exist, but most orders leave in a bag headed for Live Oak Park.

The guiso sauce, a peppery family recipe passed down from the chef's grandmother, shows up across the menu at this Salvadoran and Caribbean restaurant in downtown Healdsburg. It's casual but serious, the kind of upscale Latin spot where the staff hug regulars and explain the story behind every dish. Restaurant workers from around the county fill the tables, which is usually a reliable sign of something.

Checkerboard tablecloths and divey walls set the scene at this beloved fried chicken shop, where the bird arrives hand-battered and properly spicy. Memphis is barbecue country, and Gus's seems fine with the argument. Sides run to okra, beans, and mac and cheese, and a half-dozen pies baked daily close things out. The Front Street location is the one for anyone staying downtown.

The focaccia at this Italian sandwich shop and pizzeria is springy enough to qualify as a mattress topping, then loaded with stracciatella, 'nduja, pistachio butter, or artichoke cream. A deli counter runs along one side, stocked with mortadella, salami, and prosciutto that get hand-sliced to order. Roman-style pizza sits out in thick, dimpled slabs. Bring cash for lunch and a plan for a slow afternoon.

The homemade pita, puffy and fresh, is the detail that keeps ASU students coming back across generations at this no-frills Tempe restaurant and grocery. Shawarma, falafel, kebabs, and baba ghanoush fill the menu at prices that don't require a financial aid disbursement. Baklava in pistachio and Arizona pecan closes things out. The strip-mall setting is deeply unromantic, which seems to be the point.

Diners at this casual Millbrae Korean spot can be spotted holding oxtails up to the light like jewelers, hunting for every last scrap of meat. Han Sang runs on bone broth soups and sliced beef, the kind of cooking that earns regulars fast. The sul long tang, a cloudy white stock loaded with brisket, tongue, and tendon, arrives unseasoned so you can salt it yourself, which somehow makes it feel more personal.

Mojitos are the organizing principle at this Cuban restaurant and bar in Walnut Creek, and the menu runs a dozen or so of them, spiked with guava or prickly pear depending on your mood. Floral-print booths line the walls, a long communal table anchors the middle, and the patio fills fast on weekends. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the best restaurants in Walnut Creek. Come thirsty and order the ropa vieja empanadas while you figure out the rest.

Haven Farm and Table is a daytime restaurant planted on a three-acre working farm in Encinitas, with a glass ceiling that lets the sun in and a menu that mostly walks over from the rows outside. Salads are the main event here, which is a sentence that usually ends in disappointment elsewhere. Eater has put it on its list of San Diego's best salads. Expect farm-adjacent casual, not a tasting menu.

The Hound Dog cocktail is built around local bourbon, amaro, and a nod to Elvis that, yes, does go without saying. Hen House is a wine and cocktail bar in East Memphis that reads more like someone's well-appointed living room than a proper bar, which is either the owner's California sensibility or just good instincts. The food menu runs to duck and shrimp and grits, and the whole thing manages unpretentious and sophisticated without trying too hard at either.

Hong Hua is a white-tablecloth Chinese restaurant in Farmington Hills where the main event is Beijing duck, carved tableside by a server whose knife work gets a small audience. You can have it crispy with honey-glazed skin and crepes, or boneless and stir-fried with vegetables. The dining room is all dark woods and warm tones, a good setting for a family dinner, and the honey-glazed barbecue pork keeps the table busy while you wait.

The menu here is basically a suggestion, since the family running this Chinatown restaurant has been known to steer you away from it entirely and just decide what you're eating. That's not arrogance so much as confidence, and the Shanghainese cooking that lands on the table tends to justify the approach. Pork confit egg rolls with basil and chile sauce are a signature. Cash in on the experience; just don't expect to be in charge.

The chopped steak comes with peppercorn sauce, peas, and onion rings for $25, which tells you most of what you need to know. This dinner-only diner on Warren Street is the project of the Meat Hook's Brent Young and a partner from Mel the Bakery, and the menu reads like a greatest-hits of unfussy classics: shrimp cocktail, steak tartare, burgers, half a Greek chicken. Affordable on purpose, not by accident.