The Best Seafood in the United States

Eric Ripert's three-Michelin-star seafood temple in Midtown runs on French technique and a quiet confidence that doesn't need to announce itself. The menu moves from nearly raw to lightly cooked, and the room, all white tablecloths and soft jazz, fills nightly with people who dressed for the occasion. The thinly pounded yellowfin tuna over foie gras toast is the dish that gets talked about. The sommelier just won North America's Best Sommelier Award, which tracks.

A former printing house in SoHo now holds one of the more decorated new tasting menus in the country: two Michelin stars and a spot on the World's 50 Best, all within its first year. César Ramirez builds a 13-course seafood-focused menu from a lifetime of detours, Mexico, Chicago, French kitchens, and long stretches in Japan, with sauces precise enough to settle any argument. The room is spare and the counter seats face the kitchen, which is exactly the point.

Ana Castro grew up eating mariscos in Mexico City and now makes them with Gulf Coast shrimp, crab, and fish in a Bywater dining room tiled in pastel pink with terracotta lattice walls. The seafood-driven Mexican menu comes with a glossary on the back, which tells you this is not a Tex-Mex situation. It landed on North America's 50 Best Restaurants list and holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand, and Castro is a James Beard nominee.

A counter inside a historic row house is where the kitchen and the dining room become one thing, which is more or less the point. Provenance is a modern seafood tasting menu where Korean and French influences trade off through a parade of pristine fish, dry-aged proteins, and sauces that do the heavy lifting. The Michelin star and a James Beard semifinalist nod for pastry suggest the ambition runs the full length of the meal.

Shuckers at the horseshoe bar crack open oysters from a dozen Rhode Island spots, and you dress them yourself with kimchi mignonette or fermented green-chile hot sauce. Gift Horse is a Korean-inflected New England seafood restaurant, the kind of place that slides littlenecks under crisp kimchi and broils butterfish in sweet-potato miso. The chef won a James Beard Award for Best Chef: Northeast in 2025, and the New York Times named two dishes among the best they ate all year.

Two marble counters run the length of the kitchen, fronted by mounds of ice holding oysters, clams, and Champagne in roughly equal proportion. Penny is an all-bar seafood restaurant above Claud in the East Village, and the whole point is watching things get shucked, sliced, and dressed in front of you. It landed on North America's 50 Best Restaurants list. Most seats are walk-in, so arrive before doors open if you'd like one.

Blue velvet curtains pull back at five o'clock, the line outside moves, and the handwritten menu above the open kitchen tells you what the boats brought in that day. Chubby Fish is a no-reservations seafood restaurant in Cannonborough that coordinates directly with fishers, so the raw bar and hot dishes shift constantly. It landed on the New York Times Restaurant List and North America's 50 Best. Skip lunch, get there early, and budget the full hour they'll give you.

A wood-burning hearth anchors the open kitchen at this Michelin-starred seafood restaurant on the Embarcadero, and the live fire finds its way into nearly everything on the plate. The room goes hunter's cabin by way of Nordic design, with Bay Bridge views softening whatever pretension the dark wood and brick might otherwise suggest. The raw bar runs to purple sea urchin and antelope tartare, because apparently the ocean alone wasn't enough of a challenge.

A wood-burning grill and a marble raw bar anchor this rustic-industrial seafood restaurant on Magazine Street, where everything worth eating came out of the Gulf not long ago. The smoked tuna dip is reason enough to sit down, but the real move for a group is a whole fish with a few sides. Food & Wine named the team among its Best New Chefs in 2024, and the New York Times put it on their New Orleans list. Loud, convivial, no bad seats.

Wahoo salami and cobia sausage are the calling card at this airy raw bar and seafood lunch spot in downtown Birmingham. The team behind the neighboring restaurant Helen runs it with the same eye for Gulf Coast ingredients and seasonality, turning a raw bar into something closer to a feast. The New York Times put it on their restaurant list, and the Michelin Guide awarded a Bib Gourmand. Come hungry enough for small plates and dessert.

The shucker in a blue apron working the window display is a fixture at this North End seafood spot, where oysters rest on crushed ice behind the glass like a slow-motion invitation. Inside, mosaic tile, white marble, and red leather banquette make a narrow room feel considered rather than cramped. The day's oysters are listed on a small card; the wine list leans European coastal. The New York Times put it on their restaurant list, and the line outside most nights explains why.

Cushioned chairs and walls hung with paintings and photographs give this South Loop seafood spot the feel of a 1930s Hollywood supper club, which is either kitsch or genius depending on your mood. The kitchen keeps things tighter than the decor suggests, letting quality ingredients carry seafood dishes with global influences. The Michelin Guide has it listed, and Artful Living named it one of the five most stylish restaurants in the country.

An open kitchen anchors this seafood-focused fine dining room inside the Bellagio, where soft beige walls and light wood paneling keep things calm enough that the food can do the talking. Michael Mina's tasting menu pulls Japanese and broader Asian influences through the catch, ponzu and miso showing up often. Service is polished in the way that Vegas fine dining does best, which is to say attentively and without making you feel watched.

Sedalia's shares a property with the Walters family's playground equipment business, which tells you something about Oklahoma City's appetite for surprise. It's a seafood and conservas restaurant where the menu shifts weekly but almost always circles back to anticuchos, a nod to co-owner Silvana's Bolivian roots. Chef Zack Walters earned a James Beard nomination for Best Chef: Southwest, and Bon Appétit named it one of America's Best New Restaurants.

White tablecloths and cream walls give Crevette the look of a classic European brasserie, but the cooking runs along the coasts of Spain and France with enough color to make you forget Manhattan is outside. This is a proper seafood restaurant, lively and full, with the bar pulling its own crowd. The team behind Lord's and Dame keeps the room humming and the martini list pointed.

Swordfish schnitzel doesn't show up on many Southern seafood menus, but Dean Neff, a James Beard Outstanding Chef nominee, has that kind of restless disposition. Seabird is a full-service seafood restaurant on the Wilmington waterfront, nautical in feel without leaning on the clichés, serving dinner and weekend brunch. The catfish and grits crowd and the caviar deviled eggs crowd somehow occupy the same room, and neither seems bothered by the other.

The menu lists sea robin and limpets without apology, which tells you something about the kitchen's confidence. This is a seafood restaurant in a classic New England tourist town, but it wanders happily onto land for inventive pastas, roast chicken, and a crispy pig's head that regulars treat as the real point of the visit. The chef took the 2024 James Beard Award for Best Chef: Northeast, and the room looks far too relaxed for any of that to be true.

The chandelier alone is worth pausing on, a sprawling coral-reef of a thing hanging over one of Seattle's most coveted oyster bar stools. This lively Ballard neighborhood spot runs on meticulously sourced oysters and a short, focused seafood menu, and the wait for a table is long enough that the tile-clad bar next door exists partly as a waiting room. A James Beard nominee for Outstanding Restaurant, it's the place locals bring visitors who ask where to eat in Seattle.

Past the vintage movie posters and through the double doors is an interior courtyard with a back wall that doubles as a 35mm projection screen, metal drive-in speakers lining the walls. It's a Californian restaurant where you can turn the sound up for dinner-and-a-movie or down to coo over anchovy-stuffed olives. Outdoor heaters handle the Mission fog. A James Beard semifinalist for Outstanding Restaurant.

The meal ends with saltwater taffy tucked into the check, which tells you everything about Greg Vernick's intentions at this sleek seafood restaurant inside the Four Seasons. Terrazzo floors and floating orb fixtures signal expense-account territory, but the menu keeps drifting back to Jersey Shore summers. The branzino, the sardine toast, the ceviche all read serious, and then there's a diner slice from the pastry case waiting at the end.

The booths are carved from redwood wine casks, the bar is Hinoki cedar, and the walls are smoothed red clay, so the room itself does a lot of work before the food arrives. Rintaro is an izakaya with a NorCal sensibility, meaning locally caught fish gets the sashimi treatment and the charcoal grill handles skewers with the same seriousness. The covered courtyard, ringed with citrus trees, is among the harder outdoor seats to snag in the city. Michelin Bib Gourmand.

A subterranean New England seafood joint in the East Village where the menu runs heavily toward the ocean and the wine list follows suit, mostly whites chosen to keep pace with it. The New York Times named it among the city's best new restaurants, and the sommelier took a Next Wave Award. The celery root float has become something of a minor cult object, which tells you something about the kitchen's sense of humor.

The name comes from the sprinkler company that occupied the space before, which is either a great origin story or a reminder that Birmingham contains multitudes. Adam Evans, a James Beard Award winner, runs this seafood restaurant out of a 5,000-square-foot room in Lakeview, with a raw bar up front and a menu built around regional fin fish, Southern sides, and the kind of collard greens that make you reconsider every other collard green you've had.

A neon fish glows over the door in Asheville's South Slope brewery district, and the vibe inside this seafood counter is as no-nonsense as the name. Chef Ashleigh Shanti runs a fish fry built around North Carolina catfish and dayboat shrimp, with the fish sandwich, dredged in locally milled cornmeal and finished with spiced buttermilk tartar sauce, drawing the most attention. The New York Times put it on their 2024 Restaurant List, and a James Beard semifinalist nod followed.

Mariscos San Pedro is a lively Pilsen seafood restaurant on the ground floor of Thalia Hall, doing Mexican mariscos with more imagination than the genre usually gets. The dining rooms are all colorful tile and cartoonish illustrations, and the bar handles anyone killing time before a show upstairs. It's a sit-down dinner, mid-priced, and the Eater-crowned shrimp gobernador taco is the one people mention.

Oysters and crab claws on ice set the tone at this bright seafood restaurant in Los Olivos, where the team behind Bell's in Los Alamos turned their attention to things that swim. Slide into a booth, order the shared plates, and let the wine list run deep, including their own label. The Michelin Guide has it selected, and Esquire put it on their Best New Restaurants list. Santa Barbara County has an embarrassment of riches, and this is one of them.

Stained glass, studded leather barstools, and a rotating local art collection give this upscale but decidedly unstuffy bar and grill a vibe that says "been around forever" without trying too hard. The menu leans into seafood, creative cocktails, and an extensive wine list, with a house burger and shoestring fries on hand for anyone who finds fish menus stressful. Regulars tend to know exactly which booth they prefer.

A quaint seafood restaurant on MacDougal where the wine list is sorted by whether you'd rather be James Bond or Austin Powers, and that tracks with everything else here. The fish and chips, a hake fillet in lacey batter, is what put the place on the map when it was still a pop-up. The menu turns with the season, the room is small and blue-and-white, and getting a table requires actual planning.

Wood smoke hangs in the air the moment you walk into this Fort Greene seafood restaurant, which should tell you something about how the kitchen operates. Chef Tomer Blechman anchors the menu around dry-aged fish and open-fire cooking, pulling from a Mediterranean pantry that keeps things interesting without announcing itself. The bar draws a crowd that clearly has opinions about natural wine, and the pita alone justifies showing up early.

The menu changes daily based on whatever came up from the coast, which means Saltbox Seafood Joint has a line out the door and nobody knows exactly what's on offer until they get there. Chef Ricky Moore, a James Beard Award winner, runs a casual counter-service seafood spot where sea bass, blue crab, and oysters rotate in and out. Devoted regulars track the social media for lobster roll days like they're concert tickets.

Dry-aged swordfish is not something most seafood restaurants attempt, but it's the kind of move that tells you exactly what kind of place GW Fins is. This upscale French Quarter dining room goes deep on seasonal fish, running cuts like sheepshead and fish collars alongside the more expected. The chef's been a James Beard semifinalist, and the room draws people who came prepared to order carefully and stay a while.

A small fish and wine bar from the team behind State Bird Provisions, built around the anchovy in all its salty, versatile glory. The menu wanders from toast loaded with local anchovies and grated tomato to squid stir-fried with kimchi and flat rice noodles, and somehow a vanilla tamarind sundae finished with dried fish lands as dessert. The room is warm and woody, the vibe relaxed enough that the ambition sneaks up on you.

A BYOB fine dining room in Bella Vista small enough that the handwritten menus feel like personal notes from the kitchen. The chef's Asian-influenced seafood changes with the seasons, leaning into combinations that sound odd on paper and make obvious sense on the plate. Bring a bottle, settle in, and let the prix fixe do the work. A 2025 James Beard Outstanding Hospitality semifinalist, which tracks for a room this attentive.

The whole room is named after a dog, which tells you something about the energy here. Mabel's is an upscale-casual seafood spot in North Park where the menu leans into California-meets-Iberia, raw oysters and crudos on one end, swordfish schnitzel with salsa verde and tonnato on the other. Natural wines and gin cocktails fill the gaps. The Michelin Guide gave it a Bib Gourmand, and Esquire called it one of the best new restaurants in America.

A working seafood market sits at the center of the dining room, which tells you everything about what ends up on the plate. This casual Pacific Beach seafood restaurant occupies a restored mid-century warehouse, and the menu follows whatever came off the boat, including house-made fettuccine with locally caught San Diego rock crab. The Michelin Guide has it on their radar, and the crowd skews toward regulars who know to skip the menu and ask what's freshest.

No ocean in sight from this busy East Hollywood corner, but the seafood at Found Oyster doesn't seem to notice. It's a no-frills bar and seafood spot where the team applies a firm philosophy: impeccably sourced shellfish needs little beyond a squeeze of lemon to do its job. The oysters come from the general manager's family farm, which is either charming or unfair competition, depending on how you look at it. The New York Times and the LA Times have both taken notice.

The family behind Chula has been fishing the Pacific Coast for years and ships the catch straight to their seafood counter and casual restaurant in north Scottsdale's Grayhawk area. The menu rotates with whatever's fresh off the boat, so the poke and sashimi selections shift constantly. The green chile tuna melt, made with confited albacore and Hatch chiles, landed on Phoenix Magazine's Top 100 Dishes list.

A converted 1920s bank building on King Street, with soaring ceilings, white tile, and black wood that lands somewhere between Parisian brasserie and Charleston old money. The menu calls itself "fancy seafood," which is honest: this is a full-on seafood brasserie where the oysters are slurped cold and the crab toast is the kind of thing that makes ordering seem easy. The kitchen handles beautiful product with a light hand and doesn't overcomplicate it.

Mosaic tiles, warm wood, and a room where everyone is happily crammed elbow to elbow set the scene at this Iberian seafood spot on Canal Street. The kitchen draws from the coastal traditions of Spain and Portugal, leaning into briny, bright flavors without apology. The fish preparations are the reason to come. The Michelin Guide awarded it a Bib Gourmand, and Bon Appétit once named it among America's best new restaurants.

Counter-service seafood in Fremont, where the chef sources directly from local fisheries, a supply-chain headache most spots at this price point don't bother with. The menu reads like Pacific Northwest bar food done with actual conviction: rockfish banh mi, salmon teriyaki, home fries tangled with smoked cod. The crab roll on a split-top bun comes out only on weekends, so plan accordingly. The New York Times put it on their Seattle list, which tracks.

You pick your fish from the case, tell them how you want it, and then somehow end up eating one of the better seafood meals in the city. The New York Times ranked this Egyptian seafood market at number seventeen in New York, which raises real questions about what the fancier places on that list are doing with their tablecloths. The room is Astoria's Little Egypt, not a dining room, and nobody seems to mind.

The line out the door on Castro is a permanent fixture, not a trend. Anchor is an old-school seafood spot, tiny and unfussy, better suited to two than a crowd, with a menu that stays short so everything on it can be good. The cioppino is the reason regulars never open the menu by the second visit. The Michelin Guide gives it a Bib Gourmand, and the oysters arrive briny enough to make the mignonette feel optional.

Bottarga grated over fresh spaghetti is as close to a signature as this intimate Noe Valley Sardinian restaurant gets, though dried tuna heart shaved over fusilli gives it a run. The menu is concise, written partly in Sard, and offers a cash discount at the bottom. A neighborhood regular bought the place specifically to keep it exactly as it was, which is either very reassuring or a little telling about how attached people get.

Pressed tin ceiling, globe lights, and worn wood floors set the mood at this seafood restaurant on South 20th, where the menu stays tight enough that everything on it feels deliberate. The raw bar anchors the room, oysters and scallops up front, while the gumbo pulls in lobster, crab, and Carolina gold rice. Grab a seat at the back bar if you can, the chefs are right there. A James Beard semifinalist in 2026.

The autographed headshots of old-school celebrities on the walls set the tone: this is a Fisherman's Wharf seafood restaurant that makes no apologies for being exactly what it is. Families from two hours outside the city have been cycling through for generations, and the wood-paneled bar and white-jacketed servers keep the scene feeling frozen in amber. The clam chowder is generous where it counts, and the cioppino comes in a "Lazy Man's" version with the shellfish already shelled.

The house motto is "a little bit class, and a little bit trashy," which tells you everything you need to know about this Gulf Coast seafood spot in Midtown Houston. Crawfish come dry-seasoned or wet in a buttery Viet-Cajun sauce, and the broader menu runs from raw oysters and po'boys to shrimp and grits. Biscuits arrive with seasonal jam and whipped butter. The Michelin Guide has it listed, and Texas Monthly named it among Texas's best new restaurants.

The oysters on the menu come from the owner's family farm down in St. Mary's County, which gives this Whitehall Mill seafood restaurant a kind of built-in honesty you can taste. The kitchen leans Chesapeake, running roasted oysters, crab dip mac and cheese, and miso-glazed snakehead alongside the classics. Happy hour draws a crowd for good reason, with roasted oysters finished in butter, Parm, and Old Bay going for next to nothing.

The patio at this fine dining seafood restaurant inside the Hotel del Coronado looks out over manicured grounds to the Pacific, with an outdoor fireplace taking over once the sun disappears. The menu leans heavily on raw shellfish and fresh whole fish, priced accordingly, so budget-conscious pescatarians may want to look away. Book early; the wedding circuit has discovered this view too.

A seafood restaurant in Williamsburg run by a fisherman's son, which shows. The menu leans on familiar territory but keeps swerving: surf clam in aguachile, mussels that are genuinely plush, squid that's properly charred. Then dessert arrives and a Basque cheesecake shows up funked with taleggio. The New York Times gave it two stars and a spot on their Restaurant List, which for a room this unpretentious in Maujer St feels about right.

A Burgundy list that a Chronicle wine critic called one of the Bay Area's treasures sits inside a Shandong Chinese restaurant across from UC Berkeley, which tells you most of what you need to know. Concrete walls, wood accents, and a line out the door by opening time. The tea-smoked duck and the double-skin noodle salad are the things regulars order without looking up. Michelin Bib Gourmand.

This is a seafood restaurant dressed like an Old Hollywood set, with a raw bar and a caviar service whose sturgeon eggs come from fish the chef raised himself. The menu keeps one eye on the Gulf, with redfish, grouper, and a clam chowder that means it. The bar has a Golden Martini from Esquire, so a drink first is only prudent. Expect to dress like someone might photograph you, because someone will.

Moëca is named for a soft-shell crab and runs on the same idea: something from the sea, handled with care, at the right moment. It's a neighborhood seafood restaurant in Cambridge that reads as date-night territory without making a thing of it, low lighting and a room that actually works. The menu is built for sharing, with global flavors pulled across small and large plates. Bon Appétit named it one of America's Best New Restaurants in 2023.

The comeback sauce and stuffed shrimp survived the ownership change, which is what regulars needed to know. This old-school downtown seafood house has been a Jackson institution forever, and the new chef preserved the classics, the longtime staff, and the general soul of the place while quietly upgrading the wines and adding a feta-brined fried chicken special that nods to the Greek immigrant roots. It landed on the New York Times Restaurant List in 2025.

The cobblestoned streets of Fells Point lead you to this seafood restaurant and raw bar, where local oysters share the menu with a lobster roll on a warm, buttered bun. The vibe skews more New England than Chesapeake, though the orange crush keeps it honest. Waits are part of the deal, so ask about the back patio and let the neighborhood do its thing while you hold out.

Silk curtains, monogrammed seatbacks, and a glassed-in conservatory make the name almost a prank, but The Sardine Factory is a white-tablecloth seafood institution that has been doing fine dining since before fine dining needed to be ironic about it. The menu runs from crispy sand dabs to lobster ravioli in cream sauce, the bread basket is generous, and the staff treats the whole production with genuine ceremony. Bring a relative who remembers when this was the move.

Nautical decor that stops short of kitsch anchors this seafood restaurant on the Southwest waterfront, where the patio looks straight out over the marina. The menu pulls from Chesapeake waters and a D.C. urban fish farm, so northern puffer fish arrives whole and crispy fried, and a Maryland crab crumpet nods to the place's Scottish sister spot. Save room for the Virginia peanut tiramisu, which sounds like a dare and tastes like a good idea.

Dudley Market is a Venice seafood restaurant a short walk from the sand, where the move is a few oysters followed by a burger that arrives with caramelized onion-bacon jam. The Infatuation put that burger on its list of the best in America. Expect sunglasses worn indoors by people who are not squinting at anything, and a bill that assumes you flew in from somewhere with a different zip code.

Half fish market, half seafood counter, Fishmonger seats guests at a communal table or window stools and takes orders from the back. The menu stays compact: oysters, crudos, sandwiches, soups, and whatever the boat brought in that day. The blackened grouper sandwich on a buttered seeded bun with pickled peppers and Florida sauce has become the house staple for good reason. A Michelin Bib Gourmand and a Bon Appétit best new restaurant pick.

Roosevelt Row gets a proper grown-up restaurant in Pretty Penny, where every table starts with a complimentary pour of bubbles and the kitchen sends out housemade pastas, bold proteins, and an octopus tostada that earned a spot on Phoenix Magazine's top dishes list. The forest-green room is sleek without being stiff, and the bar program holds its own, landing in the Spirited Awards' regional top ten for best new cocktail bar.

The garage doors roll up when the weather cooperates, which in Charleston is often enough to matter. This seafood spot, a converted filling station on King Street, holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand and earns it with small, smart moves: fried saltine crackers alongside the smoked mahi dip, shrimp rolls garnished with crushed potato chips. The grower Champagne list is an unexpected flex for a place this casual. The fried chicken, brined in buttermilk and hit with Old Bay, tends to cause a scene.

Wooden A-frames perch over Hood Canal tidal flats on a working fifth-generation oyster farm, which tells you most of what you need to know about the oysters. This is an outdoor seafood spot where bivalves are the reason anyone drives out to Lilliwaup, though the supporting cast of crab cakes and clam dishes holds its own. The Stump Bar pours beer and wine and sells buckets of you-shuck oysters for those who skip the reservation.

Half seafood market, half full-service restaurant, The Tides sits in a quiet Safety Harbor neighborhood north of St. Pete and pulls off both roles without apology. The menu runs large with a Southern lean, so fried green tomatoes and pimento cheese show up alongside oysters Bienville and po'boys stuffed with fried grouper. The kitchen is open all day, with weekend brunch, and the Michelin Guide has taken notice.

The raw bar anchors the room at this polished seafood restaurant, oysters from both coasts and the Gulf stacked up in a city that has no business pulling this off. Julia Sullivan, who came up at Per Se and Blue Hill at Stone Barns, keeps the menu rooted in Southern instincts while the flavors drift pleasantly coastal. The onion dip topped with Tennessee paddlefish caviar is the kind of dish that makes you feel silly for ever ordering anything else.

A former marine fueling station and lobster pound on the Mystic River, Haring's operates in two modes: feet on the wooden railing, smoked bluefish on Ritz crackers, cold drinks delivered from the package store next door, or retreat into the clapboard dining room for seared tuna and squash curry. The New York Times put it on their Restaurant List, and Yankee named it Waterfront Restaurant of the Year. Both outcomes make complete sense once you're sitting there.

The chalkboard specials change often enough that regulars check it before sitting down, which tells you most of what you need to know about Alewife. It's a modern seafood restaurant in Church Hill with a sustainable-catch ethos and cocktails that earn their own moment. Groups of four tend to anchor the table around the Siren Song, a lazy Susan of fresh catches built for sharing. Reservations are the move; this place stays busy.

Ford Fry's seafood restaurant exists as a quiet rebuke to Atlanta's landlocked reality. The room has the feel of an oyster bar and a classic fish house that figured out how to share a cool loft, and the kitchen leans into both, running whole roasted shrimp alongside delicate flounder dressed in lobster butter. Parker House rolls arrive hot, and the menu wanders just enough to keep things interesting.

The chef makes an early-morning run to a local fishmonger before most people have had coffee, and that rhythm shows in the tacos. Fish Guts is a casual taqueria where the Baja-style fish taco, battered in Modelo and French mustard, gets made to order on fresh masa tortillas. San Diego Magazine named it the city's top fish taco in 2025, which will surprise no one who has eaten one. The smoked fish dip and michelada round things out nicely.

An L-shaped pewter bar anchors this compact seafood spot tucked into the ground floor of a Back Bay rowhouse. The menu shifts with the catch, running from daily crudo and Maine uni toast to whatever oysters and shellfish came in that morning. The plateau de fruits de mer is the move if you're with someone you like, or someone you want to impress. A James Beard semifinalist, 2025.

Dollar oysters at happy hour put Jacqueline on the map, but this Pacific Northwestern seafood restaurant on Southeast Clinton has a lot more going on. Hamachi crudo gets grilled pickled pineapple and fermented fish funk; smashed cucumbers come with Oregon dulse and whipped tofu. The room moved to a bigger space recently, which the neighborhood took as good news.

The dining room holds enough live-seafood tanks that you half expect a guided tour, but R&G Lounge is a Chinatown banquet-style restaurant where the point is the occasion. Dungeness crab fried in salt and pepper, black cod baked to the texture of soft butter, geoduck sliced thin for sashimi. The seafood swims until you order it, which settles the freshness question before it's even asked.

Stone crab claws, boiled and chilled, served with a mustard sauce that people have been arguing about since Miami Beach was accessible only by ferry. Joe's is an old-school institution, a crab shop so embedded in the city's identity that celebrities, politicians, and regulars all wait in the same line. The dedicated parking lot across the street tells you everything about how long that wait can get. Save room for the key lime pie.

The smell hits before you sit down: salt air, grill smoke, charred shells, then garlic butter. This is an oyster bar and smokehouse perched on a deck above Tomales Bay, an hour from San Francisco and a world away from it. Raw and grilled oysters from Tomales Bay Oyster Co. are the move, though there are fish tacos and sandwiches too. Deck seating is first come, first served, so arriving early is less a suggestion than a strategy.

The dirty martini here landed on Esquire's list of the finest in the country, which tracks: the bar occupies the old Picasso space at the Bellagio, with the fountains putting on their show just outside. It's the cocktail outpost of the Carbone empire, so the room skews dressed-up and the pours skew generous. Order the martini, watch the water, and feel no obligation to explain yourself.

The oysters come straight from Hog Island's Tomales Bay farm, and that short supply chain shows in every platter. This easygoing seafood counter in the Ferry Building draws lines of locals and tourists alike for sweet, cold bivalves with all the classic accompaniments, plus Manila clam chowder and a hearty seafood stew. The Bay views from the patio don't hurt. Go early or go patient.

Pork and duck puffs shaped like little black swans are the opening move at this upscale dim sum house inside Ghirardelli Square, where the room earns its own attention with colored lanterns, tiled murals, and candle tea warmers. Classics come with upgrades: lobster where shrimp usually goes, squid ink in the fried rice. The bay-facing patio fills up fast on Sunday mornings with people who planned ahead, and a few who got lucky.

At high tide, waves actually slap the glass at this La Jolla fine dining room, which makes the front tables less a perk and more a contact sport. It has been an old-school institution on the Pacific since forever, serving a menu that runs from raw bar and caviar to wagyu and truffle risotto alongside the seafood. Elegant without being stiff, and the lounge pours the full menu if the dining room is booked solid.

Hemenway's is a seafood grill on South Main Street that recently shook off its stuffy streak and went back to the flash of its 1985 roots. The menu runs from raw bar towers and local crudo to caviar-topped waffles and stuffed lobster. It's a dress-nicely, bring-a-card sort of dinner, though the bar works fine for oysters and a glass of albariño. AAA gives it three diamonds, if you need to tell the parents.

A Modelo in a champagne chiller tells you everything about the vibe here. From the team behind Taco Boys, this seafood restaurant on North 7th is the dressed-up counterpoint to a casual taqueria, built for date night rather than a paper-plate lunch. The menu runs from a cold bar and ceviches to tacos and things grilled over mesquite charcoal, and the molcajete arrives with shrimp and octopus in hot or cold form.

The kitchen started at farmers markets and still runs a stall at Kaka'ako and Kailua, but the mothership is a former gas station in 'Aiea where ceviche tostadas arrive stacked with blue crab tobiko, avocado, and raw shrimp in a lime-green sauce. The whole fried fish and beer-battered tacos hold their own too. A casual seafood spot where it's genuinely hard to find something to skip, which in Honolulu is saying something.

The strip mall on Turkey Lake Road does nothing to prepare you for the room inside, which runs to chandeliers and private dining spaces with the full sweep of a Cantonese seafood clubhouse. Dim sum arrives made to order rather than off a cart, so everything lands hot. The selection runs deep, from siu mai and egg tarts to sticky pork dumplings with a crispy, mochi-soft interior. The Michelin Guide has taken notice, and the move is to come with a crowd and keep ordering.

East and Gulf Coast oysters anchor the raw bar at this Knox Street seafood restaurant and oyster bar, where the menu runs from smoked whitefish dip and beef tartare through whole grilled branzino and chilled lobster rolls. The drinks are notably un-afterthought. A double cheeseburger quietly holds down the menu for anyone dragged in by a shellfish-obsessed friend, which is a gracious thing to offer.

White linen on dark polished wood, a mounted swordfish on the wall, and a bar that fills up fast, Hugo's is a big, old-school Chicago seafood house that has never felt the need to be subtle about any of it. Stone crab claws, oysters, crab cakes, frog's legs, and a few steaks for the holdouts keep things honest. The family-style sides arrive in quantities that assume you came hungry, and the Muddy Bottom Pie requires friends.

A pie-only dessert menu handled by a dedicated pastry chef is either a bold statement or a confession, and at The Pearl it reads as both. This Channelside seafood spot fills out a mixed-use building with a big, shareable American menu, raw and fried oysters, seafood towers, and fish and chips for when you're feeling sensible. The room mixes contemporary with maritime nostalgia, and the outdoor patio gets well-used in Tampa's approximately eleven months of decent weather.