The Best Places in the United States

A biergarten tucked into one of downtown Wilmington's favorite old spaces, Prost lands somewhere between the Rhine and the Cape Fear River, serving schnitzel and spaetzle alongside fried flounder sandwiches without any apparent crisis of identity. The pretzel board with cheese sauce and beer mustard is the move if you're just in for a pint. The tap list runs both European and American, so nobody has to compromise.

A Salvadoran pupuseria in a Rockville strip mall, run by a family whose roots in the craft go back a generation in El Salvador. The menu runs nearly 30 styles, from the classic cheese-and-chicharrón to shrimp with mint and kale, all served hot off the griddle and freshly blistered. The New York Times put it on their D.C. restaurant list. Come at breakfast and order the signature pupusa with eggs in a red sauce that has no business being that good.

The empanada is the whole point here, and the team makes them by hand every morning in flavors that cover more ground than you'd expect: mushroom-seitan for vegans, halal lamb, a breakfast version, and several more. This bright, compact downtown spot runs the full Ecuadorian-inflected menu, from arroz con pollo with sweet plantains to a pork sandwich with chipotle-lime mayo. A grab-and-go case handles the lunch rush when it comes.

A red neon sign flicks on outside when the burgers start flipping, which tells you most of what you need to know about this greasy spoon parked in the literal shadow of Bryant-Denny Stadium. The walls are buried in Alabama memorabilia, including an actual stadium seat and a confiscated orange construction flag, because no orange survives near this building. The menu runs on the same devotion: burgers and breakfasts named after championship counts.

A rambling hacienda-style New Mexican restaurant set in a maze of adobe rooms and tiled patios along the High Road to Taos, Rancho De Chimayó has been around forever and moves at a pace that matches the landscape. The house cocktail mixes cider and tequila, a local invention from the area's apple-farming days. Order the green chile stew alongside it and you'll understand why people drive out from Santa Fe just for lunch.

A Middle Eastern breakfast cafe in the Gilbert suburbs, Rayoog has other locations in Jordan and Iraq, which gives you a sense of what this place is actually for. The move is to come with people willing to share: platters arrive loaded with eggs, hummus, falafel, yogurt, fava beans, and baba ghanoush, and the signature trays stack two metal teapots on top of a ring of small sweet and savory dishes, which is a genuinely dramatic way to start a morning.

The she-crab soup has been on the menu forever, and regulars treat it as non-negotiable. Red Sky is a casual all-day cafe in Duck running lunch, dinner, and Sunday brunch, the kind of place that does fish tacos and short ribs under the same roof without making it feel like an identity crisis. The OBX spin on a Calabash platter draws a crowd, and Sunday brunch brings out a shrimp-and-risotto dish billed, cheerfully, as "Redneck."

The entrance is a walk-in freezer door at the back of an ice cream shop, which sets the tone perfectly. Behind it is a sci-fi cocktail lounge with a glowing backbar and B movies running on the wall, where the drinks are named after cult films and built with ingredients that require a moment to process. The kind of bar that rewards people who ask questions.

You enter through the alley behind Easy Street Records, following a painted 'R' on the wall, which is either thrillingly covert or a lot of effort for a cocktail bar, depending on your mood. Inside, a 70s-futurist room with chic lighting anchors a menu built entirely around Black-owned breweries, distilleries, and wineries. The DJ booth fills most nights, running from Afrobeat to soul, and the cocktails are serious enough to deserve your full attention before the music gets loud.

The larb comes one way: hot or Thai hot, and the co-owner will tell you which to order. This neighborhood Thai bistro in North Miami runs on Isan flavors, the kind that are fragrant and punchy in equal measure, and the whole fried snapper with house chile sauce has regulars coming back for it specifically. The New York Times named it among Miami's 25 best restaurants. Small room, big cooking, and Ricky himself helps out over the summer.

The handmade corn tortillas here taste like an actual ear of corn decided to become a taco, and they're sturdy enough to hold the juiciest fillings without folding on you. This taqueria sits near Lake Merritt, which makes eating outside feel less like a picnic and more like a civic event. Classic fillings, snappy carrot pickles, and carnitas that manage to be both chewy and crisp, from a team that grew up in East Oakland taco royalty.

House-made pita arrives before anything else at this Mediterranean restaurant in north Oklahoma City's Chisholm Creek development, and the table tends to fill fast with hummus, baba ghanoush, and muhammara before the shareable mains show up. The chef pulls from Greece, Morocco, the Levant, and occasionally the Basque Country, which is either inspired range or a very long grocery list. Braised lamb shank and tajine-braised short ribs anchor the menu.

The patio fireplace faces the Black Warrior River, which is either a nice coincidence or the whole point. River is a sit-down Southern restaurant with a menu that moves from fried green tomatoes and wild game meatballs to shrimp and grits and steaks. The room skews cozy, the crowd runs loyal, and the homemade oatmeal creme pie is apparently a nod to a certain famous former football coach's breakfast habits.

A honky-tonk on lower Broadway where the band plays for tips, the cowboy boots for sale hang on the wall, and a High Life costs about what it did when your dad was young. The kitchen turns out fried bologna sandwiches and cheeseburgers off a griddle, which suits the steel guitar fine. It smells like leather and fryer grease, and the tourists who wandered in for one beer tend to stay through the second set.

Rosa is a neighborhood coffee shop in Rosedale, named for the owner's great-grandmother, who was among the first Black residents to move to the area. The pastel pink and green room serves Fast Haus beans, a short run of pastries and sandwiches, and doubles as a spot for community meetings. Evenings bring DJ sets, open mic, and karaoke, so check the socials before assuming it's a quiet latte situation.

Rosé and Rye is a cocktail bar parked next to Crisp, where the kids run the show, so consider this the 21-plus annex where the adults retreat. The menu leans on riffs like a cherry-vanilla-foam Negroni, and the patio is built for lingering with friends over charcuterie, marinated nuts, and olives. Industry Night settles your tab with a coin flip, so you pay five dollars or full price, depending on your luck.

Hat Yai-style fried chicken is the reason to know this casual Berkeley Thai spot, where a rice flour batter does double duty as marinade and delivers a thin, shattering crust topped with fried shallots. You order from a touch screen, the staff will walk you through the menu, and the sweet chile sauce that comes alongside is fine, but the prik nam pla is the move.

Rosette is a grocery store with a cafe attached, or the reverse, and it lives on the ground floor of a Corktown apartment building, which means some of the people ordering a latte are technically just coming downstairs. You can grab milk and pantry staples, then sit at one of the many tables with a Colombe espresso and a cinnamon rolls-and-croissants situation from Zingerman's. Cheap, casual, no dress code beyond pants.

A photo of Keanu Reeves in the window is this Tenderloin Thai spot's unofficial marquee, and the barbecued pork shoulder is the reason he keeps coming back. The fish sauce marinade gets charred on a grill and turns up three ways: over fried rice, in a salad with toasted rice powder, or straight with a dipping sauce. A cash-and-plastic neighborhood joint where the regulars look comfortable enough to be furniture.

Saigon Seafood Harbor runs a hybrid system: you fill out a paper order slip, then carts bring the food anyway. It's a dim sum parlor in a Sunnyvale strip, and the barbecue pork buns arrive with that glassy, lacquered top that signals someone is paying attention. The siu mai gets a drizzle of chile oil, and the scallop dumplings are translucent little parcels with enough celery to keep things bright. Weekend tables fill fast, so come early or come hungry enough to wait.

Saint Germain is a French bakery and cafe at the Interlock, with Parisian-style tables roomy enough that you can set up a laptop and stay until closing without a single glare. The display cases hold frilly cakes so decorated you hesitate before the first forkful, briefly. The macaron selection runs past twenty flavors, lavender to pistachio, which is a lot of decisions for someone who only came in for coffee.

French technique meets Japanese flavors at this Cleveland Park bakery, where cruffins come filled with lychee and grapefruit and the matcha shows up in mochi rolls alongside lavender. The pastry case leans into seasonal and Japanese ingredients in a way that feels less like a gimmick and more like a genuine point of view. Weekend mornings draw a line worth joining, even if you tell yourself you're just stopping in for coffee.

A halal market in West Oakland where the grocery aisles give way to a dining room out back serving pita sandwiches, mixed grill plates, and a rotating spread of Yemeni specialties. The saltah, a lamb and fenugreek soup served in a stone bowl, arrives bubbling and practically orders the flatbread for you. Stock your pantry, grab lunch, or do both, which most people here seem to be doing.

Goth velvet paintings and band prints share wall space with a rotating bean roster at this laid-back coffee shop tucked inside the Freight Gallery in the Lone Star District. The specialty drink menu is long, and tea gets the same serious treatment as coffee, which is rarer than it should be. Community events spill in from the adjoining gallery, giving the place the feel of a neighborhood hangout that happens to take your cup seriously.

The name itself tells the story: "San" for San Francisco, "Jalisco" for the Mexican state where the family's roots are. This homey, generations-run breakfast and lunch spot on South Van Ness has been feeding the Mission's hangovers with chilaquiles and huevos rancheros for decades. The weekend birria special draws its own crowd, served either as a rich stew or dry with the broth alongside, which is the move.

Twenty-seven taps pour at the Beer Hall HQ, which is the anchor of a local brewing outfit with locations across Santa Fe and Albuquerque. Food comes from whatever truck is parked in the courtyard that day, ranging from barbecue to Cubanos, so check the website before you go. The sprawling outdoor lounge makes it easy to lose an afternoon, which is probably the point.

Sartiano's is a high-end Italian steakhouse on the Strip, with a patio that looks out over Wynn's private fairways and the Sphere glowing behind them. It sits next door to the celebrity-heavy members' club Zero Bond, and the room carries some of that hush. Expect an expense-account crowd, caviar cannoli to start, and meatballs that quietly steal the show from the steaks. It's polished without being stiff.

Saturn is a New Center coffee shop that opened recently and already has people camped at its tables with laptops and paperbacks. The room is sunny and quiet enough to hear yourself think, which in a coffee shop is practically a luxury amenity. The flat whites and iced matcha lattes are the draw, breakfast sandwiches on biscuits are cheap, and in summer your dog gets a 50-cent pup cup. Eater counts it among Detroit's best coffee shops.

A downtown Latin restaurant where the salsa section gets its own dedicated menu real estate, which tells you something about priorities. The chef, a Wilmington native, does BLT arepas and blackened tuna over cilantro-lime quinoa alongside tacos and tostadas at lunch. Sunday brunch draws a crowd large enough that you'd be wise to plan ahead. The vibe is casual and local, the flavors are bright, and the room moves.

Scotty Simpson's is a nautical-themed corner fish fry in Brightmoor that has apparently never been told the decor trend moved on, and that's fine by everyone in the booths. You order the cod in its light house batter with fries, slaw, tartar sauce, and soft dinner rolls, and the fish flakes apart in big, tidy pieces. The fried frog legs are thick enough to need a second opinion, and the pie goes fast, so ask early.

A cafe and pub in Troy Hill where no one has a job title because everyone is cross-trained to do everything, which somehow produces a vibe closer to a house party than a service industry shift. The brunch menu leans into local partnerships, and the beer and cider list stays tight and neighborhood-focused. Bring a weekend morning and no particular plans.

The Rufina Taproom sits a short walk from Meow Wolf, which tells you something about the crowd rolling in. This is a brewpub, casual and spacious, with house beers, burgers, and a Cuban sandwich that regulars treat as non-negotiable. The Cajun-leaning sides, spiced tater tots included, are a small surprise on an otherwise straightforward menu. Live music fills the room on weekends, and nobody seems to be in a hurry to leave.

A cozy Ethiopian lunch spot tucked into a San Jose shopping center, where regulars sip tea and read newspapers like they've been coming for years. The vegetarian combo is the move, with lentils done two ways and a shiro with a deep, bouquet-cube savoriness that's hard to place but easy to finish. The injera has a smooth, almost elastic pull to it. Pair everything with hot tea, because that's what the room does.

Follow the signs through an industrial neighborhood off Dravus, past the fluorescent hallway, past the distillery, and you'll land in a small cocktail bar that smells like a very good apothecary. SennzaFinne makes its own amaro here, and the open bins of calendula and angelica aren't decorative. The chalkboard rotates, the hours are short, and the crowd that finds it tends to feel quietly smug about that.

Sepia is a coffee shop and the first storefront for a Black-owned roaster that sources directly from Black and brown farmers across the Americas, Africa, and the Indian Pacific. The bags are named for the Detroit neighborhoods that once anchored Black life, so you can order a Paradise or Blk Bottom and learn some local history before the caffeine kicks in. The menu is hand-painted on the wall, and there's a pastry case, which saves you from a tragic breakfast.

The in-house stone mill sets Seylou apart from every other bakery in D.C., whole grains going from kernel to loaf under one roof. The team ferments the dough and bakes in a wood-fired oven imported from abroad, which explains the crust on those pain au levain loaves. Mornings bring whole grain croissants and an espresso bar, and on Wednesday nights the sourdough becomes the base for pizza, which is either a great idea or a threat to your routine.

Shady Acres Saloon is a Heights dive built to look like a small-town square, complete with an outdoor stage that resembles a country general store. The cornhole and horseshoe setups are generous, which feels like a zoning requirement in this part of town. Lone Star tall boys and banana pudding shots come cheap, the single pool table starts arguments, and whoever's on stage keeps the two-steppers busy.