The Best Places in the United States

Casa Bake is a warehouse bakery tucked into a strip of units off SW 47th, where the croissants cost $3.50 and nobody has to put "artisanal" in a headline to justify it. The plain one is the move, flaky enough to shed on your shirt, and it pairs well with a cappuccino. There are almond and pistachio-cream versions too, plus classes if you'd like to find out how much butter is involved. The Infatuation put it on a national croissant list.

Cowy Burger is a Miami smashburger counter in a scene where half the internet seems to be filming the same fist-on-beef routine. The patties here are pressed so thin they're nearly a rumor, and the move is the one with bacon jam, sweet and chunky in a way that sounds like a band you'd tell your nephew to quit. Come in whatever you're wearing, expect to eat with your hands, and plan on a line.

The checkered tile floors and art-lined stone walls make it look like a Parisian bistro that wandered into the West Loop and decided to stay. Creepies is a neighborhood French restaurant from the team behind Elske next door, with a concise menu that leans classic and slides Midwestern where it can. The vesper martini landed on Esquire's list of the best in the country, which is not nothing for a place called Creepies.

Culebra is a narrow, dark Puerto Rican cocktail bar in Logan Square where the entrance is the first puzzle, so expect to ask a stranger where it is. Inside, a loud bomba soundtrack keeps everyone bouncing, drinks run to a Malta-sweetened highball, a spicy rum swizzle, and a plantain shot. The Infatuation put it on its list of the 'it' bars across America, which is how the line out front got started.

Cuzzy's is a kitschy ice cream parlor in South Philly where the flavors read like a dare from someone who's never been told no, such as banana with black sesame and peanut butter, or Rice Krispie with cinnamon goo. Vanilla and chocolate-chocolate cake are always on hand for the traditionalists. Add sprinkles and Oreo whipped cream, and take a few pints home. The Infatuation named it the best ice cream in America.

DCity Smokehouse is a counter-service barbecue spot on Good Hope Road, and its smoked wings are the ones that end the dry-rub versus saucy argument. The skin comes crisp, seasoned with a house blend that lands somewhere between salty and sweet, and every sauce arrives on the side, including a cilantro ranch and a Carolina-meets-mumbo mix that is very much a DC compromise. Bring the friend who has opinions.

Deep City is a Lake Street breakfast spot built around plate-sized pancakes, one per order, griddled just past golden by the chef who made them famous in town. The menu runs to buttermilk, buckwheat, and a gingerbread-spiced version, and each plate arrives with a whole jug of Vermont maple syrup. A former vice president once ate here and then found change on the sidewalk, which is the kind of luck a pancake place can't promise.

Doris is a tiny cocktail bar that keeps weeknight hours only, which tells you who it's built for. The drinks come in small, rippled coupes, some barely a mouthful, and the snack mix has nutritional yeast on it, which sounds like a dare but isn't. Prices run after-work-drinks rather than special occasion. Expect the 4pm-on-a-Tuesday set and a few people who definitely own a ring light.

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.

Frankie's Summer Club is a seasonal outdoor bar tucked into the courtyard of a former art school, which is exactly the kind of sentence that makes you check your shoes. It's a leafy garden with a jazz trio, playful cocktails, and bar food that includes fried swordfish skewers. It's technically members-only, though visitors can sign up online, and it shuts down in September. The Infatuation put it on its list of 'It' bars right now.

Golden Pride is a counter-service New Mexican spot on Central Avenue where locals recite their order by number, and the number is usually 9. That's egg, cheddar, hashbrown and bacon in a flour tortilla, with real Hatch green chile doing the heavy lifting. It's about as cheap as breakfast gets in Albuquerque, and The Infatuation ranks that burrito ninth on its national list. Plan on eating it fast, since the tortilla peaks in minutes.

Gosh is a cocktail bar in Chinatown that behaves like a funhouse with a guest list, which means showing up and asking nicely is a legitimate strategy. Servers wear Adidas track jackets, the stools look like gnomes, and the basement glows a menacing red. Upstairs there's a confessional for your sins, and the carajillo arrives candy-sweet. The Infatuation put it on its list of the 'It' bars across America.

Grass Cattle Company is a farm's burger tent at the Burlington Farmers Market, where Saturday brings a line of shoeless people and their dogs trying to queue single file. The patties come straight from the farm's own herd, and the farmer is usually on hand to explain what the cows ate. The breakfast burger adds a fried egg and an English muffin from a vendor a few tents over. It's cash-in-your-pocket, eat-it-standing-up food.

Hellenika is a small gelato counter tucked into the Pike Place Market area, where the cultured gelato gets churned right in front of you. It leans toward Greek yogurt, so expect a sour tang and restrained sweetness rather than a sugar rush, in flavors like lemon curd and coconut ube. Downtown Seattle once offered only mystery soft serve, so the bar was low. The Infatuation named it The Best Ice Cream In America.

This is a scoop shop on Cape Cod with dozens of flavors, avocado and brownie batter sharing a case with vegan, non-dairy, sugar-free, and gluten-free options. The line often spills out the door and onto the deck in the late afternoon, but it moves fast. Black raspberry, peppermint stick, and maple walnut are all in play, and you can add salt-water taffy for a dessert after your dessert. The Infatuation put it on its Best Ice Cream In America list.

Isaac's Cafe is a no-frills Mexican breakfast counter in Wilmington, across the street from the longshoreman dispatch hall, which explains why its signature burrito is named after the place and sized for people who move freight for a living. It's stuffed with rice, beans, eggs, bacon, and enough avocado to raise questions at customs. The Infatuation put it on its list of America's best breakfast burritos.

Izola is a downtown bakery and cafe where the croissants run oversized and the bibimbap version arrives on a wooden slab, stuffed with bulgogi and gingery sauce, closer to lunch than pastry. The plain croissants hold up fine too. The owner also reverse-engineered the well water from his Kansas hometown so it could come out of a tap here, which is a lot of effort for something most people would just filter. It made The Infatuation's list of croissants across America.

A snug downtown Fargo burger-and-beer joint where the quarter-pound patties get grilled in plain view, in a state that has opinions about beef. It made The Infatuation's list of the best burgers in America, which the menu handles with a shrug. The fried-egg-and-american-cheese situation is the move, and the peanut butter schmear is there for anyone who hears "fancy" and wants to pull the other way. Cheap, loud, and unbothered.

Kanomwaan is a Thai gelato shop on Hollywood Boulevard where the flavors do the traveling, like pandan and a smoked salted egg that somehow tastes like a blown-out birthday candle. The gelato is dense and custardy, there's a two-scoop minimum, and the giant shaved ice sundaes are built for splitting among friends. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best ice cream in America, and a cup runs about what you'd expect.

Kenny's Upstairs is a queer-owned cocktail bar you reach by climbing a red neon-lit staircase, which sets expectations for the '80s movie set waiting at the top, complete with a phone booth and old mall food court posters. The drinks get serious attention, down to shots chased with house khao soi broth, though a Hamm's and a corndog are also on the table. St. Louis bartenders send you here if they like your face.

Kono's is a beachside breakfast counter on Garnet Avenue where the line forms by 7am and the kitchen doesn't close until 3. It's mostly surfers who've been up for hours and tourists who've read the same lists you have. The burritos come in five sizes, and The Infatuation ranked the #1 the top breakfast burrito in America, which is also the smallest, so ordering up is a choice, not a necessity.

This is a frozen custard stand where the staff wear white paper hats and the burgers hold their own against the dessert. The custard gets its golden richness from egg yolks, and the flavors rotate daily, so you can get a swirl of Bailey's Irish Cream Coffee or apple streusel and call it dinner. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best ice cream in America, and the line proves nobody here is eating salad.

La Victoria is a casual Dallas Mexican spot on Haskell Avenue where the main event is a griddled 10-inch breakfast burrito, wrapped in a chewy tortilla and sturdy enough to survive the walk back to your car. People order the Don's Delight with eggs, bacon, and avocado, and add peanuts, a move that sounds like a typo until the first bite. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best breakfast burritos in America.

Las Rosas is a dive bar on NW 7th Ave that closed for a few years, then reopened looking like nobody had touched it, which is the correct amount of renovation. It's all cheap shots, a back alley where cigarettes change hands between strangers, and a Saturday-night guitar solo at a volume your ears will file a complaint about. It's the opposite of South Beach, with no velvet rope and no one's cousin running the list. Closing time is roughly 5am.

Concrete floors and dark leather in a South Austin building that could pass for a tech lobby, except the menu is French and the martinis have made a small national name for themselves. Le Calamar is a neighborhood bistro where the food leans sharing plates, the wine list sneaks in some Texas pours, and the baked Alaska arrives with honey pecan dacquoise and torched meringue like it has something to prove.

A Flatiron bar tricked out like a 1970s Bangkok shophouse, with vintage televisions and family photos on the walls and Thai cocktails on the menu. The jasmine martini landed on Esquire's list of the best martinis in America, which gives you a sense of how seriously the drinks program is taken. The kitchen keeps pace with late-night Thai food that pairs naturally with the cocktails. Open late, which the neighborhood needed.

Liberty House is a casual daytime cafe wedged between a juice shop and a yoga studio, which is Asheville's version of a perfectly balanced breakfast. The sourdough blueberry pancake is the draw, proofed overnight, seared in cast iron, and finished in the oven until the outside crackles like a croissant. It comes as a single cake with butter and flaky salt, and The Infatuation named it the best pancakes in America.

Ludi's is a Filipino diner a few steps from Pike Place Market, which means a line of people who skipped the fish-throwing and went straight for breakfast. The headliner is the ube pancakes, rice flour flapjacks under a coconut glaze the color of a highlighter, with a sweetness that stays on the right side of dessert. It's a casual, counter-and-booth morning spot, so wear whatever you had on.

Maestro is a downtown Tulsa cocktail bar that skips the crowds and pours a smooth, stiff drink for the end of a long day. Settle in with a caipirinha and pretend the room is a sexy villa while young film-industry types wade through a conversation about tequila terroir. The Infatuation put it on its list of the "It" bars across America, which is a lot of pressure for a place with no patience for pressure.

This is a soft-serve stand just outside Lake George, parked across the street from a Six Flags, which means the line is part sunburned families and part people who've had enough of roller coasters for one day. The menu runs long, from birthday cake to an orange creme twist that tastes like a creamsicle. The cremewich is the move if you're racing the drip. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best ice cream in America.

The green salad here became a Philadelphia talking point, which tells you everything about what kind of tavern this is. Meetinghouse is an American bar and kitchen in Fishtown where the menu looks almost suspiciously plain, right up until the food arrives. The hot roast beef sandwich and pork-and-beans both suggest a kitchen treating simple things as the whole point, not the backup plan. Named to The New York Times Restaurant List for 2025.

Nhu Lan is a Vietnamese bakery on Lawrence Avenue where the baguettes are made in-house and the sandwiches get built straight into them. The house special stacks ham and head cheese with pâté, pickled vegetables, cucumber, and jalapeño. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best bánh mì in America. Ordering both sandwiches is the usual move, since choosing one apparently can't be done.

The pool table shares the room with people in stilettos, which tells you most of what you need to know about Parley. It's a neighborhood bar on East Cesar Chavez run by two Irishmen who seem unbothered by the idea that a bar can be dim and comfortable and also genuinely cool. Screens handle both the big game and arthouse film. The drinks run strong, the food leans comfort with a global detour, and the dress code is apparently optional.

A wall of windows faces the Atlantic, which does a lot of the heavy lifting at this fine-dining room inside the Ritz-Carlton on Amelia Island. The contemporary tasting menu threads European and Asian influences, and the service team remembers returning guests by name, a small touch that lands bigger than it sounds. Book an early table if you want the sunset doing its thing behind your wine glass. AAA Five Diamonds.

A 22-seat Korean fine dining room where the staff never once mentions that the kitchen runs as a nonprofit focused on zero waste, letting the tasting menu speak for itself instead. Edward Lee's cooking gives traditional Korean ingredients a modern setting, moving through courses that land somewhere between precise and quietly surprising. The Korean spirits list leans into the esoteric, including a crimson makgeolli made with red yeast rice.

Smash Jibarito is a counter-service burger spot on Division Street where the bun is a flattened, fried plantain, which turns lunch into a mild argument about whether this counts as a sandwich. It's the Puerto Rican jibarito run through a smashburger press, with thin, crisp-edged patties and a tangy house sauce that nods toward In-N-Out. It's a casual, order-and-grab operation, so wear whatever you were already wearing.

The French onion soup has been on the menu since day one, which tells you something about how Oxford feels about this place. Snackbar is a warm, wood-paneled Southern restaurant with an oyster bar, cocktail bar, and booths deep enough to disappear into. The kitchen weaves Indian flavors through the menu without making it a theme, so masala pot pie sits comfortably next to whatever's seasonal. Esquire named its martini among the finest in the country.

Coffee arrives at Specs spiked with Cynar, corrected with maple cream liqueur, or topped with Angostura whipped cream, all from 8am. It's a coffee shop and daytime cocktail bar in Winooski, the former mill town next door to Burlington, where the crafty set debates linocut workshops in the sunny windows while big dreamers at the bar puzzle over how to dome the town rotary. When talks stall, the attached bev mart stocks 24-ounce Busch Ice and cigarettes.

St. Coffee is a neighborhood coffee shop on St. Claude Avenue, a mile or so downriver from the Quarter, where the breakfast burrito comes stuffed with boudin, because this is New Orleans and the tortilla has to pay local taxes. It's counter service, pastries and espresso, the sort of place where you order in a hoodie and nobody asks questions. The Infatuation put the burrito on its national breakfast burrito list.

A hotel lobby bar in a Gothic downtown landmark, where a smash-style burger with a cream cheese and white cheddar blend and house-pickled onions is the draw. It's a dim, vaulted room with bar-food prices, and the crowd runs from packed to tumbleweed depending on the night. Service can wander. The Infatuation put the burger on its list of the best in America, which is a lot of pressure for something that tastes a little like a drive-thru.

The Oaks Pub is a neighborhood pub in Sellwood, the kind of place where you order at a bar and nobody dresses up for it. It's credited with inventing totchos, which is nachos built on tater tots, a swap so obvious that you wonder who was in charge of nachos before. The Infatuation put the dish on its list of the best potato dishes in America, which is a list that exists and is taken seriously by someone.

This is a breakfast diner in a chalet-style building with a candy cane-striped awning, which gives off strong "ski lodge that only serves syrup" energy. It's the parent of 150-plus locations, so the name is a claim, not a joke. The Dutch baby is the order, a puffed golden thing with crisp edges and a custardy middle. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best pancakes in America.

The Pickled Pig is a casual deli in a city that once called itself Porkopolis and still has the fiberglass pigs to prove it. The kitchen breaks down whole local hogs, then grinds the trimmings into a loose-packed pork burger on a potato bun, topped with nearby gouda and house kimchi. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best burgers in America. Order at the counter, and don't ask where the beef is.