The Best Restaurants in the United States

A Sichuan restaurant on York Boulevard with a bright green facade that makes it hard to walk past, even if you're committed to a different dinner. The cooking leans on the chef's Chengdu roots while poking at newer ideas, and the wings and fries come dusted in ground spices, which is how fries should be seasoned. The noodles are handmade nearby, and they're the reason to bring a table full of people.

The restaurant attached to Hauser & Wirth's Soho gallery, Manuela runs lunch, dinner, and brunch inside an interior wild enough to distract you from the menu. The original location in Los Angeles keeps live chickens on the premises; New York wisely does not. The all-day menu leans Mediterranean-ish, crudo and carpaccio giving way to grilled fish and roasted lamb, the kind of food that photographs well and also tastes like food.

Maria Luisa is an empanada shop in a garage-like Ballard space, the kind of place where lunch means a few high-top tables and a paper bag. The fillings run from creamy spinach to chorizo to plain cheese, and the chimichurri alongside would be welcome in packet form for the glovebox. Takeout is easy, even for a family-sized order, and the alfajores filled with dulce de leche cover dessert. Nobody dresses up for this.

A food hall in West Adams where the stalls read like a who's-who of L.A.'s best operators: Thai fried chicken from the Holy Basil crew, tlayudas from Poncho's, tamales and weekend barbacoa from Tamales Elena. The rotating pop-up slot keeps regulars guessing, and Sook sells Levantine pantry goods alongside pre-packaged dishes for the commute home. The full-service Maydan restaurant anchors the back with hearth-fired Lebanese-leaning spreads and whole roasted mains.

Mean Sandwich is a small sandwich shop with a giant open mouth for a logo, which is also the face you'll make at the counter. The room keeps the old deli feel, but the corned beef is housemade and thick-cut, and the mint shows up by the fistful. Even the bread pudding comes from day-old buns, and a backyard patio handles warm-weather sandwiching. Order at the counter, bring napkins, expect no ceremony.

Meskerem is a cozy, casual Ethiopian spot on South Grand, with walls covered in old Visit Ethiopia travel ads that make a strong case for a vacation you can't take tonight. Dinner arrives on one enormous round of tangy injera, which you tear and use as both fork and spoon. The combo platters bring a pile of vegetarian and meat dishes for around $18, so bring friends and sample most of the menu.

Mi Luna is a Spanish tapas restaurant with Moorish touches, tucked into the Montrose Collective. It spent two decades in Rice Village, vanished for a while, then reappeared in a shinier address, which is the Houston way. The menu leans on shared plates, a paella built from seafood, meat, and chicken, and a sweet-and-savory Moroccan chicken pie. Come hungry and with friends, because ordering for one defeats the point.

Mian is a casual Sichuan noodle shop on Bellaire Boulevard, a California transplant in a stretch of Chinatown that has no shortage of Sichuan. You order everything from your phone at the table, which keeps service quick and conversation with the staff to a minimum. The beef noodle soup and the red oil dumplings are the comfort-food move, a steaming bowl that listens to your problems and never offers advice. Expect a tingle, not a fight.

MingHin is a big, banquet-style dim sum hall in the Loop, with white tablecloths that promise formality and a room full of families that never got the memo. The menu runs long, and the sesame buns tend to start a small stampede toward the middle of the table. It makes a sensible pit stop once the boat tour, the Sears Tower, and the Bean have all been checked off for your out-of-town guests.

Mirisata is a counter-service Sri Lankan spot on Belmont, and it's fully vegan, worker-owned, and tip-free, which covers three Portland personality types in one stop. The daily rice and curry arrives on a banana leaf, with four rotating dishes at different heat levels. The roti and pastries are worth a second order if you're bringing company. Eat inside or at the patio picnic tables, and it's listed among Eater's 38 Best Restaurants and Food Carts in Portland.

Momento Cantina is a sprawling, pink-lit Mexican restaurant with self-serve tequila machines and a soundtrack better suited to a Cancun pool deck than a Monroe Street block. It's the kind of place you'd expect in the West Loop, yet here it sits, a short walk from the symphony. The freshly made corn tortillas carry the menu, showing up under birria, tuna tostadas, and a whole fish in zarandeado sauce.

Dominique Crenn, the three-Michelin-starred force behind Atelier Crenn, set up her Los Angeles return on the top floor of the Dior flagship on Rodeo Drive, which tells you almost everything about the vibe before you sit down. It's an all-day restaurant with a full tasting menu, à la carte options, lounge bar plates, and an afternoon tea complete with the requisite tower of sandwiches and sweets, all served somewhere between a couture house and a dining room.

Mr. Beef is a no-frills Italian beef stand, and the building you'll recognize as the exterior of The Bear's sandwich shop, though the cameras only borrowed the outside. The beef gets cooked on-site rather than reheated from a bag, which Chicagoans treat as a matter of principle. Expect a line, a cheap sandwich you'll eat standing up, and a wall of celebrity photos to study while you wait.

Beijing duck carved tableside is the move at Mr. Chow, the Beverly Hills fine dining institution that helped reframe what Chinese food could look like in America. The room leans glamorous, the prices lean ambitious, and the clientele leans toward people who treat both as a given. Dumplings, hand-pulled noodles, and stir-fries round out a menu that draws from upscale pre-revolution Chinese cooking rather than the takeout canon. Steely Dan wrote about it, which tells you something.

A grab-and-go musubi counter inside the Aqua Pacific Monarch Hotel, with the largest menu of the three Waikīkī locations. Fresh rice gets packed around fried chicken, salmon with roe, or any number of Spam variations, including one loaded with avocado, bacon, and egg that operates as a breakfast sandwich in musubi form. The space is small, the turnover is fast, and the whole operation runs on the principle that rice pressed around a good filling is a complete argument.

A Korean noodle shop on Bellaire Blvd, imported from LA's Koreatown, that has the casual, order-at-the-counter feel of a food court at a mega-spa. The handmade cold noodles, chewy and tinted green from chlorella, arrive in bowls piled with spice, funky kimchi, and cold vegetables. In a city that's hot as hell most of the year, it's a filling meal that won't leave you crawling to your car.

Naia is a Greek-leaning, see-and-be-seen restaurant on the Chicago River, and the view is good enough that the kitchen could have phoned it in. It didn't, which is how you end up with crab on the falafel and caviar offered for the potato fritters. There's a roving hummus cart and a cheese course that catches fire, so dress like someone who expects to be looked at, and be ready for the next yacht to steal your attention.

Nolita Hall is a big, loud Italian American restaurant and bar at the quiet north end of Little Italy, away from the strip. It runs on a wood-fired oven, a horseshoe bar, communal tables, and projector screens for the game, with a fireplace lounge in between, so every mood in your group has a place to sit. Midweek there's a Girl Dinner deal with vodka pasta and an espresso martini.

Officina is a multi-story Italian restaurant on the Wharf, and the second-floor dining room looks like a Campari ad, all art deco light fixtures and golden-green everything. The menu roams the whole country with a strong lean toward seafood, plus housemade pastas for when you want a linguine that stays on message. Upstairs, a plant-filled terrace gets a lovely view south and a less lovely one of the overpass north. Dress like you're in Milan.

One Roast is a Cantonese-style roast meat counter on Bellaire Blvd that, unlike most of its takeout-only neighbors, has actual diner seating, so you can eat the duck before it cools in a bag. The three-meat plate is the move, with portions generous and prices modest. The good stuff sells out before closing, so treat 6pm as a deadline. The pineapple slushie is for people who finish early.

Pachi-Pachi is an izakaya-style lounge near Fremont East, which means the drinks and the snacks get equal billing and nobody pretends to be there for just one. Hand rolls, katsu sandos, and fried deviled eggs you can spike with wasabi sit alongside highballs and a martini infused with kimchi and nori. The pub burger arrives under molten Japanese beer cheese, a combination that sounds like a dare and eats like a plan.

Pancho's is a Mexican restaurant that came to Summerlin from Southern California, and it brought the margarita list with it. More than forty tequilas sit behind the bar, plus a Cadillac or two, and the decor is lush enough that you'll feel overdressed in a ball cap. Daily happy hour covers the chicken-and-cheese egg rolls, and the combination plates of enchiladas and tamales arrive without any reinvention.

Peaches HotHouse is a casual Bed-Stuy counter-service spot for Nashville hot chicken, back when that was a rare find in the city and long before the chains with celebrity backing showed up. You pick your heat (regular, hot, extra hot) and your bird, shrimp, or catfish, then add grits and collards. Dress for a paper-lined basket and a mild sweat. Eater lists it among the best places to eat in the neighborhood.

Petite Edith is a French bistro on the ground floor of a luxury apartment building, which means the neighbors can claim it without ever putting on a coat. The big U-shaped bar seats solo diners comfortably, and the banquettes in back suit a quiet dinner for two. The kitchen takes French classics through a Midwestern filter, so you get two kinds of bread, and brunch brings duck fat hash browns.

Pizzana is a Neapolitan-leaning pizzeria on West Gray, a Los Angeles import that gave Houston its own Tex-Mex pie with spiced porchetta and a chipotle salsa. The cacio e pepe pizza made the trip too, along with a Negroni di Napoli and a ranch water that knows where it is. You can also buy the dough to go for $5, in case River Oaks wants to pretend it made dinner.

Reggies is a heavy metal bar and live music venue that happens to serve jumbo, crispy, sauce-soaked chicken wings, which is a sentence you don't often get to write. Rock, rap, and metal shows fill the stage, with the odd cover band, and the rooftop deck runs on heat lamps once the weather turns. Expect fried pickles, sandwiches, and a respectable beer list, plus a dress code best described as band shirt.

Duck fesenjoon with pomegranate and walnuts is the kind of dish that makes you wonder why Persian food doesn't get more attention in this city. Rumi's Kitchen is a full-service Persian restaurant that started in Atlanta and has landed at Westfield Century City, bringing herb-heavy stews, saffron-marinated kebabs, and a menu that reads like a very convincing argument for going somewhere other than the food court upstairs.

Sam's Place is a wine bar in a Highland Park bungalow with no website, no social media, and apparently no interest in either. Locals arrive with their dogs and split a platter of sausage, crusty bread, and cornichon butter alongside natural or Old World pours. Wood paneling keeps things cozy, weekends fill up without turning rowdy, and the bar steak is there if a snack plate doesn't count as dinner.

Seia is a contemporary Italian restaurant on the 54th floor of a Brickell skyscraper, where floor-to-ceiling windows frame the skyline, Biscayne Bay, and the Atlantic beyond. The menu leans on handmade pastas and seafood, with an Italian wine list and cocktails to match. Expect a dressed-up room of date nights, anniversaries, and people whose phones come out before the bread does. Eater lists it among the best restaurants in Brickell.

Seville is a rooftop Mediterranean restaurant on top of a Hilton, which sounds like a warning and mostly isn't. The menu leans on tapas, pasta, fish, and pinsa, all sized for splitting, so it suits coworkers on the company card and out-of-town friends who just got talked into the Skydeck. The big patio gets you the Loop skyline without pressing your face against glass. The Infatuation lists it among the Loop's best.

The menu calls them "Sichuan ravioli," which tells you everything about the vibe here. This old-school International District Chinese restaurant has been serving homestyle Sichuan long before hot pot chains made the cuisine trendy in Seattle, and the approach hasn't changed much: big plates, ropy noodles, a pepper-reddened boiled fish that sounds mild and isn't, and portions sized like someone's grandmother is worried you look thin.

This is the diner tucked inside the El Cortez, an old Fremont Street casino hotel, with a menu long enough to need its own table of contents. Breakfast, lunch, dinner and a late-night run all share the pages, and prime rib is the house specialty at any hour. It's a proper diner, so nobody dresses up, and weekends it keeps going until 7 a.m. for people whose night has outlasted their plans.

A rooftop restaurant perched atop the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art, Skywalker Grill pulls its ingredients from George Lucas's own Skywalker Ranch, which is either a charming farm-to-table story or the most elaborate movie tie-in you've ever paid for, depending on your mood. The modern American menu runs from wagyu burgers and lobster corn dogs to chicken tenders served, with a straight face, alongside caviar ranch.

Someday is a cocktail bar and restaurant tucked down an alley off Division, so the busiest shopping strip in the neighborhood quietly becomes someone else's problem. The shady patio has a Mediterranean slouch to it, and the drinks lean playful, with basil, strawberry, pandan, and tamarind all getting a turn. Plan on a spritz that turns into the cheese plate, and dress for a first date or a 50th anniversary, both of which fit.

Soraya is a modern Japanese American restaurant on the ground floor of the Federal Reserve Building, which is a very Detroit place to eat a katsu. The menu runs from takoyaki and udon to sushi rolls, plus cocktails built on Japanese whisky for people who'd like their banana and brown sugar to feel like a decision. Come in somewhere between work-casual and date-night, and book on Resy.

A former Silver Lake church became Hotel Lucile, and the team behind De La Nonna tucked this restaurant inside it, which gives the room more drama than most new openings deserve. The menu threads French technique through California farmers market produce, with a Southern ease in how it's all served. A full bar runs cocktails that lean tequila and mezcal, and the whole thing is relaxed enough that you won't feel underdressed.

Southern Chicago is a steakhouse-ish dinner spot in the South Loop where the crystal chandeliers and plush velvet seating suggest the Las Vegas Strip got lost on the way to Soldier Field. The kitchen cooks steaks over open flame and stacks seafood towers, and the sides lean decadent, like deviled eggs topped with shrimp and caviar. Plan on dressing a notch up, and on a lot of conventioneers.

Sushi Ichiban is an all-you-can-eat sushi spot a short walk from the Fremont Street canopy, marked by orange neon and a mural on 6th Street. The roll list is long enough to need a bookmark, running from plain salmon nigiri to a shrimp tempura Fremont roll, with corn cheese on the side for anyone who wants a vegetable-adjacent moment. Service moves fast, and takeout comes at a discount.

The long counter at this old-school Chinese restaurant in the Chinatown-International District has been accumulating scuffs, celebrity photos, and regulars for decades. The menu has been this way forever, and that's the point: beef in oyster sauce, chop suey built on sautéed vegetables, nothing experimental. The owner waves you out the door himself, which is a touch you don't get everywhere.