The Best Places in the United States

This is a sit-down Indian restaurant that happens to share a block with the Atomic Testing Museum, so you can study nuclear history and then eat something that will test your own tolerance. The menu covers north and south, with chaat, dosas, and lamb lollipops, plus a lunch buffet with a salad and chaat bar. The inferno menu ends in a curry challenge, and finishing it earns a $50 gift card. Reservations are required.

Mister Tiger is a family-run Korean restaurant on West Grand, the sort of place where the free banchan arrives before you've decided anything, including whether you like fermented fish cakes. Eater has listed it among Chicago's Korean restaurants. The galbi jjim, braised short rib with carefully carved vegetables in a broth that's sweet with a bitter edge, is the dish to order. The fried chicken and bulgogi hold their own around it.

The bubble-ring shape of a mochi doughnut, six or eight chewy spheres connected in a loop, is practically engineered for the "just one more piece" problem. MochiDot is a local dessert shop making them with rice flour for that signature springy chew, with flavors that rotate by season, running from Oreo to vivid purple ube to Lotus Biscoff. Bring someone to share with, or don't and pretend you did.

Murals that eat up the walls set the tone at this Cuban restaurant, a food truck that eventually needed more room. The Cuban sandwich comes deluxe with slow-cooked pork, sweet ham, extra Swiss, pickles, and two ham croquettes tucked inside, which sounds excessive until you're halfway through it. Seasonal mojito cocktails and a Delta 9 mocktail they've dubbed the "mo-wee-to" keep things lively. Save room for flan or tres leches.

This is a casual Korean spot on Decatur, a few miles west of the Strip, built around soondae, the blood sausage soup, which arrives hot and murky and mostly serious. Families split bottles of sake while toddlers work through noodles with a tablet propped against the napkins. The bulgogi comes out sizzling, and the whole place is cheap enough that you can call it a night out without calling your accountant.

The Italian sub here is stacked with salami, hot coppa, mortadella, and provolone on a flour-dusted ciabatta, and the bread does at least half the work. Morucci's is an old-school deli that's been a Walnut Creek fixture long enough that regulars actually comment when the line isn't out the door. A few seats inside, more outside, and the counter crew keeps things moving faster than the crowd suggests.

A wide backyard lawn gives Mother's Brewing Company the feel of a cookout that never quite ends. It's a Springfield craft brewery and taproom with a rotating roster of beers, from hazy IPAs to sour wheat ales to hard seltzers, and the lineup changes often enough that regulars still find something new to argue about. The kind of place you bring out-of-towners when you want them to think well of your city, which they generally do.

Everything at this rustic Vail gastropub passes through live fire, a nod to cooking that predates the menu trend by a few millennia. Bone marrow, wood-grilled pork, rotisserie chicken, and Santa Maria tri-tip anchor the menu, while a raw bar keeps things from getting too carnivorous. The cocktail list has names like Cougar Country, which tells you the room doesn't take itself too seriously, even if the fire does.

Hickory smoke has been drifting off this Lexington-style barbecue shop long enough that the drive-thru feels like a recent innovation, which it more or less is. Chopped barbecue and fried chicken are the main event, but the crispy pork skins sell out early and reward the punctual. Greek-style green beans turn up on a menu that could easily ignore them, and don't. Cash in, order heavy, and don't count on the pork skins if you're rolling in at noon.

A Third Ward Southern bakery built on heirloom recipes passed down through the Jackson family, with two daughters and a granddaughter keeping them going. Decorative cakes, pies, cobblers, and seasonal desserts are the focus, and the kind of place where the story behind the food is as much the point as the food itself. If you need a celebration cake that carries some actual weight, this is where people in the neighborhood come.

The chocolate Prozac cupcake is real, and yes, you can buy one. This neighborhood bakery on Broad Avenue Arts District has been a Midtown mainstay long enough that it feels like someone's very talented aunt runs it, which is a compliment. Cupcakes, cookies, and pies fill the cases daily, and the vibe skews cheerful bake sale rather than sleek patisserie. Go with a sweet tooth and low ambitions for efficiency.

The coastal redwoods here top 250 feet, and standing under them has a way of making whatever you were anxious about feel appropriately small. This 558-acre national monument northwest of San Francisco holds one of the last ancient redwood groves in the Bay Area, with about six miles of trails winding past Cathedral Grove and along Redwood Creek. Serious hikers can push into adjacent Mount Tamalpais State Park when the trees aren't enough.

Nacho Daddy is a casual Strip-adjacent Mexican spot built around one idea, which is that a chip should never be left alone to face the world dry. The plates arrive piled high with seasoned beef, yellow queso, and beans, and there are fancier versions with filet mignon or butter-poached lobster for people who like their nachos with a mortgage. A scorpion shot is available, and it is exactly what it sounds like.

NADC Burger is a fast-casual smash burger counter, and the name stands for Not a Damn Chance, which is also how you'll respond when someone suggests splitting one. The double wagyu patty comes with American cheese, onions, and jalapeños, there's a kids' version with only meat, cheese, and bun, and the beef tallow fries can go "beast mode." Order at the counter, eat with your hands, and wear something that forgives sauce.

Named for Vienna's famous open-air market, this elegant restaurant quietly makes the case that Austrian and Californian cuisines have more in common than anyone expected. Wiener schnitzel with lingonberry sauce sits a few lines above grilled game hen ringed with corn, peaches, and shishito peppers. The spaetzle is bouncy and fresh, lifted with tarragon. Service is crisp whether you're on the parklet or inside the modern dining room.

Breakfast runs until late afternoon here, which tells you most of what you need to know about the pace of things. Nectar Farm Kitchen is a casual Southern all-day restaurant with a farmhouse feel, leaning on whatever's coming in fresh from local farms. The menu moves from eggs Benedict riffs in the morning through sandwiches at lunch to plates and bowls by supper, so the kitchen never really has a slow hour.

The former Biscuitville location gives nothing away from the outside, but inside this Sichuan restaurant the menu runs deep into the province, with thirty-plus dishes built around the tongue-numbing peppercorns the region is known for. Dan dan noodles, dry pot chicken, and wontons in red oil sit alongside the General Tso's and crab rangoon for anyone easing in. The heat here is the slow, creeping kind that sneaks up on you.

Nobu's Coronado outpost is the upscale Japanese lounge you'd expect from a name that has its own fan club, set inside the Hotel del Coronado's renovated grounds. The room runs about 150 seats, indoors and out, and the menu leans on Peruvian-tinged sushi, skewers, tempura, and the famous miso black cod. Prices can make you do some quiet math, so dress for a dinner where the tab is a plot point. Eater lists it among San Diego's best sushi spots.

The retro rotating oven here has no cold spots, which is the explanation for the char-marked, toothsome crusts coming out of this Great Kills slice shop. The New York Times put Nonna's on its list of the 22 best pizza places in the city, and the schlep to Staten Island is part of the deal. Don't skip the upside-down triangle, built cheese-first the way brick oven places do it, and the clam slice is worth the detour on its own.

Noodle Topia is a casual Madison Heights noodle shop where someone hand pulls the noodles within view of your table, and a robot may roll up to clear your bowls. The bowls run from numbingly spicy Sichuan to a rich lamb broth, with green onion pancakes and toasted pork buns on the side. There's plenty of seating and parking out back, if you spot the easy-to-miss driveway. Eater lists it among Metro Detroit's best Chinese restaurants.

Norigami is a hand roll and crudo bar in West U that began as a pop-up and now has a theme to maintain. That theme is origami, so the menu doubles as a craft project, with neon wall graphics that coach you through the folding. Chefs assemble everything in front of you, and the signature roll goes full Vegas with foie gras, toro, wagyu, uni, caviar, and gold flakes. A speakeasy called Hidden Bar waits behind a wall.

Columbus Avenue moves at the pace of a neighborhood that has been arguing, pleasantly, about whether to have another espresso since the Beat poets were still alive. North Beach is San Francisco's Italian quarter by heritage, literary enclave by reputation, and genuinely pleasant afternoon by default. Sidewalk cafés, old-school red-sauce spots, and City Lights bookstore orbit Washington Square Park, with Chinatown a short walk when you need a change of scene.

This Mesa outpost of Novel is a small scoop shop at the end of an alley, which is the kind of location you find only if someone sent you, or if you're very committed to a hunch. Flavors run unconventional, think peppermint mocha or peanut butter and jelly, and the local collaborations rotate through. Ask for a Dough Melt, a warm doughnut stuffed with ice cream, and order the waffle version by name if you're a Parks and Rec person.

The fish on the sashimi platter came off the owner's own boat, which is the kind of detail that makes a menu honest. Nuka is a modern izakaya and sushi bar tucked into a converted auto supply shop in Haiku, where the room is low-key and the food is sharper than the address suggests. Small plates, sushi, rice bowls, and cold drinks keep things relaxed and affordable.

A Japanese restaurant sharing a block with the Peace Center, which explains the pre-curtain energy in the dining room most evenings. The courtyard bar draws a happy-hour crowd when the weather cooperates, and the menu leans toward composed, coastal Japanese with a Southern undertow. The kitchen keeps a lobster salad roll topped with seared steak off the printed menu, so asking your server is a reasonable first move.

Tucked into a strip mall at the edge of Wailea, this stylish sushi bar punches well above its shopping-center address. The nigiri is the draw, but the menu drifts into baked rolls, rock shrimp tempura, and lamb chops rubbed with aji panca that have no obvious business being this good. Happy hour runs daily in the late afternoon, when small plates come at a noticeable discount. Bring a reservation and someone who can't decide what they want.

Oheya is a 12-seat omakase counter tucked behind Uchi, which makes it the sushi equivalent of a speakeasy with better knife work. The name means "the room" in Japanese, and the room is small enough that you'll know your neighbors by the third course. A rotating chef rewrites the menu every couple of months, so the nontraditional ideas change often. The happy hour tasting is the cheaper way in.

Dim sum without the trolleys or the tea, served out of a red tent at the Maui Sunday Market and the Maika'i Market on weekdays. Only Ono is a to-go dim sum and BBQ counter from a chef whose roast pork has no business being this good outside of Hong Kong. Pre-ordering is less a suggestion than a survival strategy; the line fills fast. Save a pineapple bun for breakfast the next morning and you'll feel very clever about it.

Onyx is a soft-serve shop on North Seventh that looks closed from the street until you spot the neon "open" sign, which is the first of several lighting decisions. Inside it's all black-and-white walls, dancing LED bars, and a plant wall built for photos. The swirls come out electric purple, orange, pink, and green in jet-black cones, and the flavors rotate weekly. A toasted marshmallow rim is available for anyone who wants more going on.

The dugout smells exactly how you'd imagine, and standing in it during a behind-the-scenes tour of Oracle Park is a small, strange thrill even for people who don't follow baseball. The San Francisco Giants' waterfront stadium runs guided tours year-round, covering the field, press box, and the World Series trophies. The pregame add-on gets you in before the gates open, which is when the place actually feels like yours.

Fried corn arepitas topped with pork cracklings set the tone at this Venezuelan bistro tucked into Bywater. The chef spent years cooking other people's food across town before opening a place rooted in family recipes from home, and the menu reads like the argument he was building the whole time. Cachapa, tiradito, good cocktails, warm room. The kind of neighborhood spot that makes you feel like you found something before everyone else did.

A neighborhood sushi restaurant on Westheimer where the menu covers enough ground that nobody at the table argues, from rolls and sashimi to noodles and donburi bowls. The kitchen leans into consistency, which is its own kind of promise. Portions are generous, the room stays calm, and the regulars clearly know it. A second location sits on Bellaire Boulevard if this one's busy.