The Best Places in the United States

A pre-war cellar beneath the Flatiron that once hosted a gambling den is now a cocktail bar with avant-garde techniques and presentations critics have called sippable art. The room has the bones of a genuine speakeasy, and the drinks menu leans into that drama hard, with smoke, science, and ceremony that would feel overwrought somewhere less atmospheric. A good spot for a first date, assuming you want them slightly impressed.

Zaranda is a sit-down Baja restaurant from Hugo Ortega, with big windows looking out over Discovery Green, so even the people watching are scenic. The namesake fish is butterflied and cooked over flames in a wire basket, then brought out with giant tortillas and a trio of salsas. Ortega's name has been a semifinalist for Outstanding Restaurateur from the James Beard Awards, and brunch and dessert both get their own following.

You can't build your own pizza here, and that's the point. The menu lists eighteen pies, each already balanced by a chef who spent years making bread first, and you can feel it in the dough, a long-fermented thing with real acidity and char underneath. Fresh-sliced cheese, no customization, and they sell out, so booking ahead saves heartbreak. A small, no-frills pizza parlor on Hawthorne that tastes entirely like itself.

Neapolitan-style pizza in an Eastside strip that pulls off the modern trattoria mood without the affectation: soft lighting, considered furniture, a patio worth using. The dough gets a long ferment, which shows in the char and the chew, and the toppings lean on classic Italian regional ideas rather than anything trying to surprise you. The wine list is genuinely interesting for a pizza place. It's the kind of room where you linger longer than you planned.

Detroit-style square pan pizza is the whole point here, with a thick, airy crumb, a crispy cheese-lacquered edge, and toppings pushed all the way to the crust. The combinations run bold, burrata next to spicy honey, jalapeño whipped ricotta finding its way onto more than one pie. The room is young and casual, the staff talks about the dough the way other people talk about sports, and 50 Top Pizza has taken notice.

The counter has one view worth having: the ovens, going all day. Scottie's is a New York-style slice shop on SE Division, small enough that one booth and a high table constitute the seating plan, with a couple of benches outside when Portland cooperates. The menu runs classics alongside a vodka slice and a reimagined Hawaiian, with a grandma square that earns its square footage. Counter staff will talk you through it without making it a whole thing.

The dough does double duty here: the same flour-and-water base becomes both pizza and pasta, which is either a philosophy or a very good way to halve your mise en place. This North Beach pizzeria turns out thin-crust pies that lean Italian in spirit but drift Californian in practice, in a wood-warmed room that moves with easy efficiency. Save room for the spoon desserts, which the regulars treat as non-negotiable.

A whole-pie-only pizza shop in Little Italy where forty-minute waits after ordering are a known feature, not a glitch. The room is dark wood and minimal, with long counter seating facing the oven, and it moves with the focused calm of a place that has decided exactly what it is. Thin, crispy NY-style pies, no topping customization, no half-measures. The New York Times named it among the city's best pizza right now.

The move here is the caramelized crust, where cheese climbs the edge of the pan and turns amber in the oven, somewhere between crispy and deeply fragrant. Pequod's has been doing deep-dish this way since the 1970s, and the result is a pizza that's almost architectural: soft dough, abundant fillings, a bold, substantial bite. It's a no-frills Chicago pizzeria where getting a table takes patience and the slices arrive hot enough to require some too.

The name nods to the culinary slang for "out of stock," and supposedly the slang nods back to this building. That circular logic fits a steakhouse so committed to provenance it sources mature Spanish Vaca Vieja cattle from a New Jersey farm and reads its beef list less like a menu than a position paper. A Himalayan salt ageing room sits below the original Prohibition-era bar. The cut gets cooked on a Spanish plancha, a broiler, or Japanese binchōtan, whichever suits that particular animal.

The coffee here traveled from a family farm in Colombia to a mural on the wall mapping the whole journey, and eventually into your cup. This Tempe coffee shop serves arepas and pandebono alongside the usual avocado toast, and regulars at the counter tend to get greeted by name. The seasonal menu turns over often enough to reward repeat visits, and the vibe leans comfortably toward long mornings with homework or nowhere particular to be.

A coffee shop tucked among antique stores and auto garages in Old Town Peoria, which tells you something about the neighborhood and something about the owners' confidence. Driftwood keeps things bright and unhurried, pulls from both local and national roasters, and runs a menu that ranges from straightforward espresso drinks to things called Cereal Killer Lattes. A small shelf of local ceramics and art lines one wall, in case the matcha wasn't enough.

Baby pink tiles and floor-to-ceiling windows set the mood at this Mexican coffee shop inside Tempe's car-free Culdesac community. Daytime runs on carajillos, mazapan lattes, horchata, and breakfast bites; Thursday through Saturday it pivots to wine, amari, and ceviche. The team behind Tacos Chiwas brought the same ease here, and the cozy booths fill with people who seem in no particular hurry to leave.

A roll-up garage door on a repurposed corner house sets the tone for this tiny Old Town Scottsdale coffee shop, which doubles as a weekend car show venue. The counter fits maybe two people standing, but a shaded patio and a quiet garden out back absorb the overflow. Weekend mornings bring themed gatherings of Porsches or vintage off-roaders, which pairs better with a lavender honey latte than you might expect.

A three-level, sunlight-flooded cafe in uptown Phoenix that also runs a full cocktail program, which makes the brunch crowd's priorities refreshingly transparent. Provision is a modern coffee shop doing the classics alongside seasonal lattes and mocha with Oreo crumbles, with quiche, pastries, and sandwiches filling out a menu that gives people a reason to stay well past the first cup.

Two-thirds of this coffee shop's floor space belongs to the roasting operation, not the tables, which tells you everything about where the priorities are. Bags of beans, multiple roasters, all the gear, and baristas who actually want to talk through the difference between a washed process and an unwashed one. The website specifies that specialty coffee newcomers are in a safe place here, and they mean it.

The sourdough starter for the bagels here is fed with imported Brooklyn water, a detail that tells you exactly where this deli-bar's loyalties lie. Grossman's is a relaxed Jewish-style deli and cocktail bar in Santa Rosa, turning out knishes, latkes, and chopped liver in a corner of California that doesn't see nearly enough of them. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the best restaurants in Sonoma County and called its bagels the best in the Bay Area.

The original Dear Irving on Irving Place is a cocktail bar that commits hard to the speakeasy aesthetic, complete with dim lighting, velvet, and the sense that someone might ask for a password. The menu roams across classics, seasonal builds, and aperitivo riffs, so there's always a reason to linger past the first round. A Spirited Awards Regional Honoree, it draws a dressed-up crowd that takes its evening seriously without taking itself too seriously.

Secondhand china covers the walls and lands on the table at this mostly French restaurant in Over-the-Rhine, which leans firmly away from the stiff Euro-bistro formula. The room is bright and a little grandmotherly, the service moves fast, and the pastry program is treated with the seriousness it deserves. Pain maison and mille-feuille are the arguments for arriving hungry and leaving slower than you planned.

The Scuffin, a scone-muffin hybrid, is what most people order right after their coffee at this specialty coffee shop in Kaka'ako's SALT complex. 9Bar HNL runs a multi-roaster pourover bar with rotating guest coffees alongside seasonal drinks that lean creative without tipping into gimmick. The banana bread latte and cold brew chai have both made appearances, and the coffee flight is a nice way to kill an afternoon.

The door on Vine Street is easy to walk past, which is a shame because the tapas inside are hard to forget. This Mediterranean small-plates spot in Over-the-Rhine keeps things playful, from wood-fired octopus to a hummus plate that changes daily and pulls regulars in on its own. The pistachio baklava arrives as a thick slab of filling with pastry almost as an afterthought, and the servers watch you react like they've seen it before and still enjoy it.

A coffee shop in San Jose's SoFa district where single-origin espressos share the menu with drinks drawing on Asian flavors, the kind of detail that makes regulars possessive about their order. The space has been a Downtown gathering spot for years, and the staff friendliness that built its reputation hasn't faded. Sprudge flagged it in their San Jose coffee guide, which tracks.

A painted grain silo towers over the plaza outside, which tells you something about the ambition of this coffee shop's setting. The Santa Clara outpost of a San Jose small-batch cafe shares an outdoor space with an urban farm, a bocce court, and a community garden that perfumes the whole terrace. Inside, a line snakes out the door, the staff stays warm about it, and drinks lean toward Asian-inflected flavors and single-origin espresso.

Bar Diane is a wine bar in Northwest Portland where the hand-painted walls look like the rings left behind by a thousand glasses of rosé on a tablecloth. You can perch at the marble bar and get into the weeds on Oregon pinot, or grab a bistro table for a cocktail and a lobster roll. Pours run from affordable table wine to splurgy champagne, so nobody has to pretend to be a sommelier or a billionaire.

The ube latte quietly became a neighborhood obsession here, which is a little funny given that this is a coffee shop where the roaster's heart is in filter work. Blue Mind roasts its single-origin beans onsite in the Meridian-Kessler neighborhood, and the whole operation has a family-run warmth that isn't performed for the room. Pour-overs and sweet signature drinks share the menu without any obvious hierarchy.

The line outside this Berkeley bagel shop has been there since day one and shows no sign of leaving. Boichik turns out chubby, chewy, malty New York-style bagels, kosher and done traditionally: salt bagels heavy with big sea-salt flakes, pumpernickel baked nearly chocolate-dark. The San Francisco Chronicle named them the Bay Area's best. Cream cheese runs from plain whipped to Hatch chile, and the house-made whitefish salad sandwich makes a strong case for staying.

A takeout coffee counter tucked inside a corner grocery in Burlington's Old North End, Carrier Roasting posts its sourcing contracts and coffee scores on the menu board alongside its drink list, so you know exactly what you're buying and what was paid for it. The Northfielder, a shaken quad iced maple latte, handles the obligatory Vermont maple moment with more conviction than most. Drip coffee gets serious attention here too.

A Poursteady automated pour-over system and a zero-emissions roaster running during service set the tone at this coffee shop inside Mitsuwa Marketplace. The house obsession is alkaline water, the kind of detail that sounds fussy until you taste the espresso. The gear is serious, the vibe is not, and the space fills up the way the owners intended, somewhere between a Swiss cafe and an Asian coffee house.

Collins is the lobby bar at Fontainebleau, where deep blue furniture and gold trim set the tone and a live piano does the rest. The cocktail list pairs house originals with throwback drinks from the 1930s, so the bartenders can make a proper old-fashioned or a Viva Villa without a lecture. Come in before a show or after a long flight, when you want one decent drink and no sprint through a casino floor.

Dots Cafe is a neighborhood dive on Clinton Street where the vinyl booths, flocked wallpaper, and velvet portraits seem to have been told it's still around 2010, and nobody's corrected them. You order at the bar, which leaves time to study a menu of cheesy fries and vegan burgers. Cocktails are on offer, but a shot and a local beer fits the room. The patio has slushies and cheap rosé, and Portland Monthly lists it among the city's best bars.