The Best Places to Eat and Do in the United States

Kinjiro is a small, quiet izakaya in Little Tokyo that seats two sittings a night, and you get in by emailing for a reservation like it's 2004. The dining room is hushed enough that you'll hear the uni risotto being scooped. Plenty of the regulars greet the chef by name and order from every section of the menu, so a mix of sushi, sake, and small plates like grilled onigiri is the move.

Kita Steak & Ribs is a steakhouse run like a family business, which it is, with grill-dad barbecue given a Vietnamese accent. It began in a Hillsboro strip mall with a short menu and a loyal following packed into very little room, and it has since moved into nicer digs in Beaverton. The menu has grown a bit, but the beef is still the point. Eater lists it among Portland's best restaurants and food carts.

A giant pink monkey painted on the outside wall tells you what you're getting into, and the stained-glass windows and colorful ceiling fixtures inside keep the theme going. This is a lively, casual Mexican spot in East Fremont serving tacos, flautas, and seafood, plus loaded fries that count as a starter if you're generous. Weekend brunch goes full pink, with rosy cocktails and a mimosa flight.

This is a family-run New York-style pizzeria on India Street, selling slices and whole pies at the kind of prices that won't require a conversation with your accountant. Little Italy mostly closes up early, and this is one of the few spots still serving on weekend nights, which makes it popular with people who skipped dinner or want a second one. Wings, salads, and Italian-meat paninis sit alongside a pie named after the Sopranos, because of course.

Lansdowne is a fine-dining room behind an exposed brick facade, where the service is the attentive, old-fashioned kind that notices your glass before you do. The seasonal menu runs to beef tartare and scallops perched on maitakes, plated with care but without the tweezers or the portions that make you stop for a burger afterward. The wine list stays strictly Oregon and Washington, which turns out to be a wider world than it sounds. It's on Eater's list of Portland's best restaurants and food carts.

Las Cazuelas is a family-run Salvadoran restaurant on Figueroa where the recipes come down through the owner's mother, and nobody seems inclined to edit them. Pupusas are the draw, the revuelta with crisped chicharron and a three-cheese stretch in particular. The leather booths are roomy, the prices are easy, and the back lot has parking, a rarity in Highland Park that feels almost like a dare.

Leo's sits next to the River Oaks Theatre and plays a New York supper club, which in Houston means a 28-ounce porterhouse, lobster thermidor, and a side of potatoes dauphinoise nobody ordered for the table but everyone eats. Dinner here is a dressed-up, wallet-forward affair. There are four Old Fashioneds, one of them an Elvis-inspired peanut butter and banana situation, so the bar is clearly not here to be polite.

Little Rey is the casual, all-day Mexican spot from restaurateur Ford Fry, the one where you can order breakfast chalupas at eight and a margarita at noon without anyone blinking. Tacos come in every direction, and the half chicken roasted over coals arrives with tortillas and ranch beans for assembling at the table. Soft-serve in tres leches or salty cajeta is the correct way to close out a meal. Come in whatever you're already wearing.

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.

Clam-shaped pendant lights from Fritz Hansen set the tone at Marée, a French-California bistro and wine bar that sits just above the chef's Michelin-starred Lielle, a little more relaxed and a little less reverent. The menu leans on French technique and California produce, moving through truffled onion soup and escargot beignets toward pastas and a bouillabaisse, with pillar candles and a green onyx bar keeping things properly moody throughout.

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.

Masu is an omakase sushi counter that sits at the quiet end of the sushi spectrum, where nobody has ever draped a roll in roe or a squiggle of spicy mayo. The dozen or so courses are mostly about the fish itself, cut with the care of someone sizing a diamond, with the occasional hit of yuzu or grapefruit kosho. It's a sit-down, plan-your-evening, reservation-minded sort of dinner, and Eater has it on its best Portland list.

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.

Mistral has been a French institution on Ventura Boulevard for what feels like forever, and a new team has stepped in after the founding owner retired, refreshing the room and the menu without abandoning the bistro bones. French onion soup arrives crowned with a Comté grilled cheese, and four versions of steak frites suggests a kitchen that takes the assignment seriously. A sommelier handles the wine list, and a full cocktail menu is there if you need it.

Modu is a Highland Park bakery that started as a pandemic baking hobby and now has a bright, spare room that looks like Copenhagen was asked to keep it down. The Korean-leaning pastries sit in a glass case like museum pieces, which makes ordering feel faintly like an acquisition. Bring a few people and split several, since a cinnamon roll, a mochi bar, and a tart each look too good to commit to alone.

A build-your-own instant ramen bar does a lot of the talking at this Korean cafe and market tucked behind a Highland Park pocha. The team behind Be Bright Coffee runs the drinks side, with the 2024 U.S. Barista Champion pulling banana matcha lattes alongside grab-and-go banchan, Spam musubi, and a braised oxtail hand pie. It's the kind of neighborhood spot that makes a convincing case for ramen at any hour.

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.

Mona Lisa is an old-school Italian deli and red-sauce restaurant on India Street, run by the family's third generation and still stocked like somebody's nonna is checking the shelves. The market side carries packaged goods and wine, and the counter builds the kind of sub that needs two hands and a napkin strategy. Next door, lasagna and pasta come in half portions, which feels like the restaurant admitting you also have a day to finish.

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.

Mootz is a downtown Detroit pizzeria that sells New York-style slices by the wedge, plus a menu that keeps going once you've dealt with the pizza. There's a meatball situation involving beef, pork, and a grandmother, and the pastas and oversized salads are there for anyone who came for a sit-down dinner instead of a fold-and-walk. It all runs casual and cheap enough to wear whatever you already have on.

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.

Oba Boba is a boba trailer, a chrome Airstream permanently parked in Downtown Summerlin with a boba-sipping panda on the side and a colorful window that does all the business. Milk teas, lemonades, and seasonal drinks come with adjustable sweetness, and a bag of chips or a Cup O' Noodles covers the savory side. It's a quick, cheap stop, and parking nearby is a small act of faith. It's on Eater's list of the best restaurants in Downtown Summerlin.

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.