The Best Places in the United States

A golden goose on an exterior black door is the only sign you're in the right place. Goose Bar is a speakeasy tucked behind Goodwins on Lower Greenville, warm-lit and quietly pleased with itself, the overhead mural instructing you to "hang in there" with no further explanation. The cocktails lean creative without being exhausting, and the crowd has mostly figured out how to drink without making it a whole thing.

The glowing green facade on Dyer Street means your ride-share driver already knows the address. Inside, it's a bass-heavy bar where SMU students fill most of the floor and the dancing starts before anyone asks. Bar food runs better than the usual, and Tuesday open mic nights pull in live music, slam poetry, and stand-up, in case you came with something to prove or just enough drinks to think you do.

Five feet of fried mozzarella sticks is the opening argument here. Happiest Hour is a sprawling bar and grill near the American Airlines Center, with a rooftop full of lounge seating, a big downstairs bar, and a lawn spilling out between them. It is loud and unapologetically crowd-pleasing, the kind of place that doesn't wait for you to have fun. Ample TVs cover every game, and the pregame energy rarely fully leaves.

Exposed brick, visible ductwork, and a full ice creamery counter signal that this casual American comfort-food restaurant is playing a longer game than the average burger spot. The menu runs from pretzel knots and cheese curds through short rib ravioli and grilled filet, with brunch holding its own on weekends. The Tucson Urban Burger, stacked with bacon, chipotle barbecue, and tobacco onions, tends to settle the question of what to order.

A neighborhood bar that's been around forever, Inwood Tavern is the kind of place where a Highland Park day trader and a regular Joe end up on the same barstool. The taps lean local, the back bar runs to 33 whiskeys and Scotches, and the porch is genuinely good. Scotty Scheffler reportedly drinks here, still in his Masters jacket, which says something about the room's lack of pretension.

The open grill station at the front tells you exactly how things work here: you order at the counter, watch the kebabs cook, and find a wooden booth. This counter-service Middle Eastern spot in Oro Valley keeps a refrigerated case stocked with fresh kebabs and a dessert case loaded with sweets. The kanafeh, a cheese pastry soaked in syrup and finished with crushed pistachios, is the move after.

The servers at this Jackson Heights kebab counter have perfected the art of not noticing you exist, which a young rapper named Mr. Cardamom once called "horrendous and beautiful" while shooting a music video here. That rapper is now the mayor of New York City. The kebabs are tender, the biryani draws a crowd, and the room has been proudly scruffy for as long as anyone can remember.

The floor doesn't fill until after midnight, which tells you everything about the kind of night Karamba is built for. It's a Latino gay nightclub where dancers in little more than underwear work elevated platforms while the DJs do the heavy lifting, threading reggaeton into club classics into top 40 without a seam. The pours are generous enough that an Uber home counts as planning ahead, not an afterthought. Phoenix New Times named it the best after-hours dance spot in town.

Spicy tuna on crispy rice is the opening argument at this Japanese restaurant tucked into a strip mall in Potomac, the hot, crackly squares doing more work than most entire menus. The kitchen runs through rolls and nigiri alongside small plates, with an Old Bay roll that leans fully into its Maryland zip code. The room skews industrial-chic, which is a fun choice for a shopping center, but the fish keeps the conversation going.

The sour program leans into nostalgic flavors both real and invented, with a pastel blue Star Wars-inspired sipper sitting comfortably beside a margarita sour. This neighborhood craft brewery in northeast Phoenix rotates its taps aggressively, and the owner's laugh tends to reach you before he does. Food trucks cover the kitchen gap while a ramen bar next door remains perpetually forthcoming. A good room for people who treat tap lists the way others treat wine menus.

A tasting counter in Georgetown where the chef, a former flight attendant, runs eight to ten courses of Japanese home cooking that quietly refuses to stay in its lane. The room is spare and black-and-white, but the warmth comes from the chef herself, moving through dishes like fried Wagyu-pork meatballs and finishing the meal in a clay pot of salmon, ikura, and pickles. Dress neatly; the patio pours sake and rolls on a more casual register.

A coffee shop that turns into a bar without ever closing in between, La Reunion in Bishop Arts runs from 8 a.m. straight through to 2 a.m. Laptops and headphones fill the room by day, espresso martinis and carajillos take over by night, and on weekends the whole thing can spill into a block party with Dallas DJs. It's the kind of place that makes "work from a bar" feel like a perfectly reasonable lifestyle choice.

The jalapeño beer-battered corn dog only appears after 11 p.m., which tells you everything about Lakewood Landing's priorities. This old-school dive bar packs a pool table, a jukebox loaded with local favorites, and a sprawling front patio into a small space that somehow feels lived-in rather than cramped. The burger has a loyal following, and the solo seat at the far end of the bar by the door is the best spot in Dallas for quiet, amateur people-watching.

Wine on tap is the organizing principle at this Greenville Avenue wine bar, where the keg system keeps every pour sealed from light and air the way the winemaker intended. The global list runs from super Tuscans and Garnacha to West Coast standbys, with enough deeper cuts to reward the curious. The cracker-thin pizzas are good enough to order twice. The original location has a looser, more free-spirited feel than the Uptown sibling, which suits the neighborhood just fine.

Lentil samosas so popular they now ship frozen from this Columbia Heights Ethiopian cafe tell you something about how this place operates. The injera-lined platters arrive loaded with lamb wat that falls apart on contact, fiery red lentils, and earthy beets doing the cooling work. The vegetarian spread holds its own against anything on the menu with meat in it, which is saying something.

A dark, sleek wine bar in Old Town Scottsdale pouring from Arizona's Willcox region, which Wine Enthusiast has been calling the next Napa with a straight face for years. Co-owner Pavle Milic also runs the beverage program at Charleen Badman's FnB, so the pedigree is real. Bar staff are genuinely gregarious about helping you navigate a glass or flight, while regulars who never need to ask fill the other stools.

On Monday nights, the owner sits down at the piano and plays, which tells you everything about what kind of bar this is. Louie Louie's is a dueling piano bar in Deep Ellum run by musicians, so the stage gets actual attention. The signature move is ordering a cocktail by the bowl, a communal pour meant for a small group, which pairs well with the kind of night that ends later than planned.

A sliver of a room on Mt. Pleasant Street where the bar fills up fast and wood-oven pizzas share the menu with Greek-leaning small plates. The team came up through Tail Up Goat, and the cooking has that same instinct for herbs, brightness, and a little crunch. Pizzas run from a classic red-sauce cheese to halloumi-and-squash combinations that have no business being as compelling as they are. Bring an appetite for the whole menu.

The name nods to an 1800s Dallas "pleasure resort" that served beer seven days a week and kept live animals on the premises. The bar on Henderson Avenue skips the animals but leans into the rest, with cocktails, a solid run of Texas beers on tap, and an indoor-outdoor layout that stays lively without feeling like a scene. Food bites keep things going, and the bar staff moves fast on that first drink, which is the only speed that matters.

Moroccan tile and cozy alcoves set the mood at this upscale-casual Mediterranean and Persian restaurant in Adams Morgan. The kitchen draws from Greek, North African, Turkish, and Persian traditions without treating any of them as fixed texts, so gigante beans might arrive tossed in tahini and sumac instead of the expected tomato. Braised lamb shoulder and walnut-marinated kebabs anchor the menu, and the baked rice pudding with saffron syrup lands as a genuine closer.

A 30-foot mesquite bar that stretches indoors and out sets the tone at this Oro Valley gastropub. The patio comes rigged with misters, a gas fire pit, and heaters, so the Santa Catalina views are on offer year-round. Rotating taps keep the beer side moving, and the kitchen leans into crowd-pleasing pub food. Comfortable in the way a place is when it's thought through rather than just decorated.

A craft beer bar and vinyl shop sharing the same floor in Deep Ellum, Off the Record started as a browsing-and-drinking concept and became something louder. The exposed brick and crates of records are still here, but the DJs took over, and now the dance floor fills fast and stays full. A back patio exists for anyone who'd like to finish a sentence.

Leon Bridges played the open mic here before he played anywhere else, which tells you something about Opening Bell's ear for talent. It's a coffee shop that moonlights as a live music venue, with one of the longest-running open mic nights in DFW and occasional national touring acts rounding out the calendar. Beer and wine are on hand if coffee isn't your thing, and there's food beyond pastries: sandwiches, soups, salads.

The décor lands somewhere in the early 1900s, all dark wood and barroom nostalgia, which makes the drink program feel like a deliberate prank. This Uptown cocktail bar carries over a hundred craft cocktails, the Ramos Gin Fizz among them, built around what the team calls a "progressive" approach to mixing. The State Thomas neighborhood keeps it grounded; the menu keeps it weird in the best possible direction.