The Best Places to Eat and Do in the United States

A colorful mural marks this East End taqueria, where the breakfast taco is taken seriously and the line on weekends is not a rumor. Chorizo, potato, and egg; bacon and egg; barbacoa on Saturdays when the patience holds out. It's a cash-and-plastic, paper-plate kind of spot, which is exactly the point. Show up early or budget time to stand around looking forward to it.

Fire pits ringed by outdoor couches give this Springfield steakhouse the feel of a backyard party that got very good at cooking beef. The patio draws a celebratory crowd, and the menu obliges them with filet mignon and fresh oysters alongside a dessert called Sex in a Bowl, which is crème brûlée inside a chocolate shell with cheesecake mousse. No one is here to be understated, and the kitchen seems to respect that.

Grab a tray at the door, that's your cue that this is a self-serve Mexican panadería where you pile on what looks good and sort it out later. Conchas come in vanilla, chocolate, and shades that suggest a piñata had input on the color palette. Bolillos, marranitos, and empanadas round out the case. An old-school Houston institution with several locations, this Airline Drive outpost is the one to know for a tres leches cake when the occasion calls for one.

El Bolillo is a Mexican panadería where you grab a tray and tongs and build your own haul, which tends to end with far more bread than you planned for. The conchas come in shades that look like a unicorn sneezed, and the tres leches cake is the one locals order when a birthday is on the line. It's an old Houston favorite with five locations, and the whole thing runs on a few dollars and a loaded tray.

El Bolillo is a Mexican panadería where you grab a tray and tongs and build your own haul, which is how a quick bread stop turns into a bag of conchas, marranitos, and empanadas you swore you didn't need. The conchas come in unicorn-adjacent colors, and the tres leches cakes are what people bring to birthdays. It's cheap, it's loud with families, and there are several locations around town.

El Bolillo is a Mexican panadería where you grab a tray and tongs and build your own haul from the shelves, a system that works until you realize you've been cheerfully collecting for twenty minutes. Conchas come in pastel shades that look like they belong to a unicorn, alongside marranitos, empanadas, and the bolillos the place is named for. It's cheap, casual, and busiest right when the bread comes out.

El Bolillo is a Mexican panadería where you grab a tray and tongs and shop the shelves yourself, which is how a quick errand turns into a dozen pastries. The conchas show up in unicorn colors, the bolillos are the namesake, and the tres leches cakes keep the birthday-party crowd loyal. It's cheap, it's fast, and the line moves with the confidence of people who've done this since long before you arrived.

The queso flameado arrives still bubbling, and that's the right way to start at this Tex-Mex cantina with deep roots in Houston's Ninfa's family tree. The menu runs the full Tex-Mex spread: big crispy tacos, cheese enchiladas, fajitas, fresh guacamole. Order the combo plate if you want a little of everything, which most tables seem to. The margaritas have their own following, and for good reason.

Fioretta is a Fulton Market Italian steakhouse styled after a 1950s supper club, which means a lounge with a stage, a roving cart that makes your Caesar at the table, and cannoli stuffed with wagyu tartare. Expect dressed-up people, shared pastas, and a shellfish tower that arrives like an event. Book ahead, and know that dinner here involves a live band and a fair number of Sunday prime rib orders.

Frank's is a downtown slice shop near Market Square Park, built for the hours when everything else has closed and your judgment has too. The slices are New York-style and wide enough to require a fold, with dough and sauce made fresh each day. The specialty pies lean Texan, like boudin and bacon or a fajita-and-jalapeño number, though plain cheese and pepperoni still do most of the work. Order at the counter, eat standing.

A flame-toasted banh mi stuffed with pork belly braised in coconut water and chopped mustard greens is as good a reason as any to track down a food cart. Parked at a San Jose spot, Hết Sẩy focuses on Mekong Delta cooking, where the menu shifts weekly and might land on hu tieu with chicken skin and creamy liver or a Vietnamese-style spaghetti seasoned with fish sauce and red vinegar. Every visit teaches you something the previous one didn't.

La Espiga de Oro is a Mission District mash-up of butcher counter, bakery, and Mexican restaurant, open early enough that the neighborhood is still deciding about coffee. The breakfast burrito is mostly chorizo, with the eggs and cheese showing up like guests who weren't sure they were invited. It's a few dollars, it's counter service, and it works as a full week's worth of protein, so plan the rest of your day around it.

Marmo is an Italian chophouse in Montrose Collective, the sort of place where a baby grand sits in the bar and a local musician plays it while you decide between a cowboy ribeye and a 42-ounce Porterhouse, both dry-aged. The sauce list includes porcini bone marrow jus, so the beef is not working alone. Wear something nice, order pasta for the table, and give the 22-page wine list the attention it clearly expects.

The menu at this old-school Tex-Mex cantina names dishes after the regulars who inspired them, which tells you something about how long people have been coming back. The Berlys Burrito, the C.W. Special, the Williams Special: each one a standing order that became permanent. It's the kind of place where the margaritas are a serious matter and the chili con carne shows up on everything for good reason.

Molina's Cantina is a longtime Tex-Mex family restaurant, out in Fulshear's strip-mall sprawl, where half the menu is named after actual customers. Somewhere a regular is eating a burrito with his own name on it, smothered in chili con carne, and trying to look casual. It's sit-down enchilada-and-fajita territory with Houstonia nods for both its margaritas and its Mexican food, so jeans and an appetite will do.

This Pilsen pizza-and-coffee spot wears its owners' Filipino and Mexican roots on the crust, most memorably with longganisa and giardiniera together on a tavern-style pie. The menu includes pan pies and slices, plus coffee drinks from the people behind Side Practice, so you can have breakfast and dinner in one visit. It tends to sell out, which is the polite way of saying go early and bring a plan B.

A poke bowl shop in Edmonds where the fish rotates based on what's actually fresh, because the team sources some of it directly from the Honolulu Fish Auction. Seasonings are kept deliberately light so the fish does the talking, which is either obvious or radical depending on where you've been eating poke lately. Hawaiian sides like mac salad round things out, but this is unapologetically a fish place.

A rotisserie truck that parks at the Ferry Building farmers market a few days a week, where chickens spin overhead and the potatoes below get basted in whatever drips down. The line is long and orderly, mostly people who've already decided what they're getting. The porchetta sandwich arrives on a soft Acme bun with crackling skin, and the rosemary sea salt is there for the asking.

Uncle Jerry's is a casual deep-dish pizzeria in Cary, tucked inside a butcher shop, so the sausage on your pie was probably made a few feet away and the steak case sits right there as a quiet reminder of your priorities. The crust runs neither thick nor thin, the sauce leans a little sweet, and the pepperoni comes cupped. The beer list is solid, and the drive from Chicago is about an hour.

Village Pub is the casual cafe tucked inside Ellis Island, just off the Strip, where the specials board does the heavy lifting. A half-pound cheeseburger with steak fries runs about seven dollars, and a 10-ounce sirloin dinner shows up after midnight if you ask for it by name. There's a brewery on-site, so the root beer arrives thick enough to count as dessert. Come as you are, and you'll fit right in.

A pastry case the size of a small gallery wall holds cakes dressed in rose petals and passion fruit, and the room around it is big enough to make a slice of cheesecake feel like an event. It's a dessert shop with a full savory menu, so you can run a grilled cheese and a salad past your conscience first. Expect pastry-case loiterers, birthday planners, and people who definitely came for the soup.

Flo & Santos is a South Loop pub that can't pick a lane, so it picked three: tavern-style thin-crust pizza, Polish comfort food, and a beer garden with daily specials. Order the pie with kielbasa and sauerkraut and a pierogi sampler on the side, and your cardiologist will lose track of the subplots. Casual, reasonably priced, and equally happy to see you in a work shirt or a ballgame jersey.

This is a steakhouse that stayed old-school while the rest of River North went glam, and it has the two-story building to show for it. The menu runs to chops, veal, and chicken Parm alongside the steaks, and regulars start with the Garbage Salad, which comes with salami and jumbo shrimp, so it's not a salad in any meaningful sense. The room is full of Chicago deal-makers who haven't changed their order since the Eisenhower years.

Handies Douzo is a counter-service hand roll spot where the whole idea is that the nori is crisp for roughly ninety seconds, so you eat the temaki the moment it lands in your hand. Spicy tuna, hamachi, and scallop are the classics, with a few bright crudos and a short sake and cocktail list alongside. It's casual and fast, with the ordering pace of a place that would like you to stop talking and chew.

The Beef & Liberty Bar is the second-floor cocktail room of a London steakhouse that took over a restored River North building, all barrel-vaulted ceilings and jewel-toned booths. It's known for sub-zero martinis served cold enough to count as a personality trait, plus a happy hour with Reuben nuggets. Expect dressed-up regulars and a bar program that landed a Top 10 Nominee spot for U.S. Bartender of the Year.

Kevin's Noodle House is a casual Vietnamese spot on Irving in the Sunset, built around bowls of phở that arrive fast and cost about what a sandwich does. Kid-size portions of the steak, meatball, and chicken versions make it a reliable midweek escape for parents who'd rather not cook. A bowl of hot noodle soup buys roughly five quiet minutes at the table, and that's long enough to finally finish a level of Candy Crush.

La Neta is a sit-down Mexican restaurant in Downtown Summerlin that went heavy on the decor: velvet booths, stained glass murals, chandeliers, and enough foliage cascading from the ceiling to suggest the plants are also on the guest list. Expect margaritas and a menu that moves from oysters and ceviche to flautas. Weekend brunch comes with bottomless drinks, which pairs conveniently with the Saturday farmers market nearby.

Montesacro is a casual Roman pizzeria that bakes its pies in ovals, which is less a gimmick than a reminder that circles are not the only legal shape. The crust runs crisp, bubbly, and light, and the menu is long enough that nobody at the table gets stuck with a compromise. Service moves fast and the room swallows groups easily, which suits the pre-show crowd heading to the Orpheum.

This is a concession stand parked outside the Absinthe circus tent, which sets the bar for fare somewhere around nachos in a plastic boat. Instead it sells a smash burger on a soft pretzel bun, with two beef patties, charred onions, and thick pickles, plus star-shaped tots. Order the caviar tots if you're feeling flush, or eat standing up among the hedges like a person who just wandered out of a show.

Square Pie Guys is a casual Detroit-style pizzeria in SoMa where the pies come rectangular, with a crust that's thick but somehow light and a cheddar edge baked to a crunch. The pepperoni curls into little cups, and the hot honey gets placed with the care of someone hanging a museum show. It's counter-service, with wings, beer, and canned cocktails, and the takeout side runs like a pit crew.

This is a River Oaks District steakhouse where the lighting is flattering and the check is not. A master butcher breaks down the wet-aged cuts, and you can top an American wagyu filet with black truffle lobster, in case a steak alone felt underdressed. Expect a dressed-up room built for being seen, and a popcorn sundae at the end for anyone who still has a little room left.

The Alston is a French-leaning steakhouse on the third floor in River North, where the bread gets sliced at your table and you pick your own candle holder, which is the kind of decision-making that makes a steakhouse feel like a party. Steaks are wood grilled with French sauces on the side, but the duck gets pressed tableside, with a metal contraption wringing out the jus. Eater lists it among Chicago's best steakhouses and River North's best restaurants.

This is an upscale steakhouse operating out of a former Chicago Fire Department firehouse, which in a city with no shortage of steakhouses counts as a differentiator. Red leather stools ring a central bar, the main room is all wood paneling, and the back patio has white marble tables. Happy hour brings oyster deals, wagyu sliders, and lobster bisque under a puff pastry lid. Upstairs rooms host office holiday parties, naturally.

Trill Burgers is a counter-service smash burger joint run by Houston rapper Bun B, and it debuted to lines that suggested the city had never been told burgers exist. The patties come under American cheese, pickles, caramelized onions, and the house Trill sauce, with an Impossible version for vegans who'd rather not be left holding the fries. Plan on $15 to $20 for a combo, and come in whatever you wore to the gym.

Zarella is a River North tavern-style pizzeria run by the Boka group, which means the thin, cornmeal-dusted pies come with a cocktail menu and a downstairs speakeasy lounge. Two well-known Chicago chefs developed the crusts, and the toppings include mortadella and all-beef pepperoni, so expect River North prices for what is, technically, bar pizza. Eater has named it among the city's best tavern-style pizza spots.

The cemita poblana here comes stuffed with thinly pounded, breaded beef cutlet, which tells you immediately what kind of restaurant this is. El Rincon Poblano is a family-run Mexican spot in a strip mall off Thomas Road, with Pueblan art on pastel walls and a menu that goes well past mole. The taco arabe, pork carved off a trompo and folded into a near-translucent flour tortilla, is a lesson in where al pastor came from.

Two Italian men, both named Gabriele, run this Italian deli on Yesler Way, and the staff communicate in rapid, gesticulate Italian that could be an argument or a recipe debate or just Tuesday. The focaccia sandwiches are stacked with imported prosciutto and mortadella, and the 'nduja is made next door. Shop shelves hold Sardinian cheese, Calabrian honey, and bottarga for browsing. Vegetarians exist here, but they have to ask nicely.

Bún bò Huế arrives as tacos here, which tells you everything about the approach. This Vietnamese cafe in South Seattle pairs deep-cut dishes like stir-fried snails in coconut sauce with banana cookie crumble matcha lattes, and somehow neither feels out of place. The bánh xèo comes gasp-inducingly large on a woven basket ringed with herbs. Seattle Met named it one of Seattle's best new restaurants in 2025.

A fully plant-based burger shop where the patties, cheese, and buns are all vegan, yet every meat-eating friend you drag here tends to go quiet mid-bite. Counter service, casual prices, shopping plaza setting. The menu runs from a straightforward classic to pineapple or jalapeño-topped builds, with loaded fries worth the mess. Phoenix New Times has named it among the top burger joints in the metro two years running, vegan or otherwise.

Life-sized Spider-Man watches you eat your burger, which feels about right for a counter-service spot where the menu hangs on the wall and you can hear the flat-top sizzling from the register. The patties come on sweet King's Hawaiian rolls, loaded with things like mac and cheese or pastrami, while Marvel films loop on the TVs and kids work free arcade games. Gyros and other diner bites round out the menu for anyone not in a superhero mood.

The panda doughnut, a vanilla-glazed ring with split Oreos standing in as ears, is about as adventurous as this donut shop gets, and that's a compliment. Blooming Donuts keeps things traditional, turning out yeast and cake doughnuts that are sugared, glazed, or sprinkled. The cake variety has a crisp shell and a tender crumb that does most of the talking. Phoenix New Times named it Best Doughnuts in 2025. Pair one with the iced matcha boba latte and call it breakfast.

A small-batch ice cream shop inside a converted Quonset hut in Gilbert's Barnone complex, with a rotating handful of flavors that leans toward combinations like date and orange blossom or strawberry and rose water. The menu is short by design, and classics like mint chip share the case with vegan sorbets. You won't find thirty tubs here, which turns out to be beside the point when each one is this carefully made.

Nearly two-thirds of the world can't digest lactose, and this funky scoop shop in Uptown Phoenix has quietly built its menu around that fact. Almost everything is lactose- or dairy-free, served in a room full of neon paintings, mannequin heads, and board games that make it feel less like an ice cream shop and more like a very chill art installation. The mango sticky rice sorbet and the Gansito cake-inspired flavor are the ones regulars debate. Pints available for the road.

Mole negro shows up on nearly everything here, the rich, dark kind that takes days to make and coats burritos and chilaquiles alike. Alebrijes is a casual Oaxacan cafe in Litchfield Park with indoor tables, bar seats, and a shaded patio, the sort of place where the specials board does the real work. Concha French toast and coffee cocktails share menu space with pozole. Expect a wait, which the regulars seem entirely unbothered by.

The glazed donuts here come out warm if you time the drive to east Mesa right, and that detail explains most of what you need to know about this family-owned donut shop. The menu stays classic on purpose: pillowy raised donuts, apple fritters, old-fashioned buttermilk bars. No novelty toppings, no Instagram bait. Phoenix New Times named it Best Doughnuts in 2024, and the regulars in line at opening would find that completely unsurprising.

The ice cream sandwich here comes on a fresh-sliced doughnut, which is either genius or a personal liability depending on your self-control. This small-batch ice cream shop keeps a core menu of eight flavors, rotates in new ones weekly, and does fruit sorbets for the dairy-free crowd. The original location sits in a tiny historic building on Grand Avenue, which gives it more character than a strip mall scoop shop ever could.

The staff does the grilling here, scissor-slicing premium cuts tableside with the focus of someone who takes beef very seriously. An upscale Korean barbecue restaurant where the room leans steakhouse but the energy leans party, with A5 wagyu and pork jowl sharing the menu alongside an unusually good banchan spread. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the South Bay's top restaurants. Your shirt will smell like smoke for the rest of the night, which is just the price of admission.

A craft brewery where a pizza food truck parks just outside and freshly popped popcorn sits on the counter inside, which tells you everything about the vibe before you've even ordered. The patio spills into a grassy area with picnic tables where kids have room to run while the adults work through a rotating tap list. Come as you are and stay longer than you planned.