The Best Places in the United States

The twice-cooked pork here is the thing to order first: thin, crispy cutlets in a glaze that toggles between sweet wine and sharp vinegar, a signature dish of China's Dongbei region. This casual Chinese cafe in University City has become a go-to for regional cooking that doesn't smooth its edges for anyone, with bold Chengdu chicken and hot crisp fish rounding out a menu that makes the drive from anywhere in St. Louis feel like a reasonable life choice.

Northern Thai cooking in a city that already loves Thailand but tends to stop at the central-region classics. Chiang Mai focuses on the distinct traditions of the north, and three aunties running the open kitchen with unhurried precision are the main event. The bronzed pork sausages and green papaya salad are there for the familiar, but the menu goes further than most St. Louis Thai spots dare.

The charcoal smell hits before you've found your seat, which is a fine way to set expectations at this intimate dinner spot on Delmar. The open kitchen keeps things honest, the lighting keeps things romantic, and a dessert cart actually wheels around the room like it's 1974. Dishes are stripped back on purpose, a few components, no fuss. The clay pot Negroni is a good place to start deciding you'll come back.

The 900-degree wood-burning oven came all the way from central Maine, which tells you something about priorities. This woman- and LGBTQ-owned pizza operation splits its time between a West Allis takeaway spot and a roving life of pop-ups, beer gardens, and farm nights. Hot honey from their own bees goes on the cup-and-char pepperoni; Detroit-style pies come out with scorched edges and racing stripes of sauce.

A server in a druidic robe strikes the floor with a staff, lifts a smoking lantern, and produces your cocktail from inside it. The theatrics are a genuine feature, not a phase. Frazer's is a comfortable neighborhood restaurant in Benton Park, the kind that holds steak frites and pork schnitzel alongside a rotating specials board and a serious seafood selection, while the bar is clearly having the most fun in the room.

An old-school deli in St. Louis's historic Italian-American neighborhood, Gioia's has been feeding the same families for so long that when a James Beard America's Classics award arrived, locals mostly just smiled politely. The hot salami sandwich, made from a house recipe of beef, pig's head, and spices and sliced to order, is what everyone comes for. Pick your bread, pick your cheese, and try not to overthink it.

A chorizo-washed mezcal margarita is a strong opening argument for the bar program at this Spanish pintxos spot on Locust. The menu runs the classics, pan con tomate, patatas bravas, a Caesar buried under microplaned manchego with a paprika-spiked dressing, and the kitchen handles them with enough care that they feel like discoveries. The crowd tends to stay later than planned, which is more or less the point.

Roasted corn lands on the table before you've even opened the menu, which is a good sign at this Peruvian restaurant tucked into Old St. Charles. Chef Andrew Cisneros runs a menu built around ceviche, fried seafood, and slow-cooked pork, with shortbread alfajores from a local bakeshop closing things out. The room draws a crowd that looks genuinely happy to be there, which in St. Charles on a weeknight is its own kind of achievement.

Wood-burning oven margherita pizza and tortellini en brodo share a menu at this family-friendly pizza and pasta osteria, the kind of place that makes you wonder why anyone ever chose between a slice shop and an Italian trattoria. The chef collective behind it, a genuine collaboration rather than a celebrity vanity project, has serious fine-dining pedigree, and the result is crowd-pleasing food that doesn't talk down to anyone. Easy parking, which in St. Louis is half the battle.

Yunnan province cooking, where the flavor map runs spicy and sour rather than rich and savory, is the whole point at this fast-casual spot. The chef grew up near the borders of Thailand and Vietnam, and her handmade dumplings, chile eggplant, and lime-ginger peanut salad taste like it. A veggie sampler lets you graze across most of the menu in one go, which is lucky, because narrowing it down is hard.

The mini cheese empanadas arrive flaky outside and molten within, and the sampler plate is basically the menu's argument for ordering one of everything. Mayo Ketchup is a casual Puerto Rican and Dominican spot on Olive Street where the tostones come topped with avocado and pickled onion, the taquenos are cheese pulled through pastry dough, and the sauces range from guava to herbaceous cilantro. A good place to lose track of time deciding what to eat next.

The xiao long bao arrive as tightly pleated, hand-folded pouches that release a rush of pork broth the moment you bite in. This is a casual noodle and dumpling shop where Sichuan heat is the organizing principle, landing not just on the tongue but behind the eyes. The chile oil wontons and dry-rubbed wings deliver real numbness, the satisfying kind you talk about afterward. Ramen and other noodles round things out, though the spice-forward dishes are what most people can't stop thinking about.

The broth in the tonkotsu is described as the color of the inside of a cloud, which is the kind of detail that earns its place. This ramen and pho shop was built with serious intent: the team behind Vietnamese institution Mai Lee brought in a renowned ramen consultant and worked with Sun Noodle on the recipe. Seven ramen styles anchor the menu, with pho, banh mi, and crab rangoon filling out the rest. A thorough lunch.

Pappy's is a midtown barbecue spot built around pork ribs, dry-rubbed, smoked low and slow over fruitwood, and finished with just a whisper of glaze, no sauce pooling anywhere near them. The classic sides, baked beans, fried corn, applesauce, hold their own beside all that smoke. Lines form early and move steadily, which tells you something about how St. Louis feels about this place.

The main dining room of this old-school red-sauce Italian spot is encrusted in crystals, which tells you everything about the vibe before you've ordered a drink. Leo at the bar will talk you into a sambuca shot, Isabella will remember your order from last time, and the owner himself is probably seating you. The menu hasn't changed in years, and nobody's complaining.

The breakfast sandwich here is finished with sea salt that catches in the griddled sourdough's crags, keeping the salty and sweet separate rather than letting them blur together. That level of attention is what drew crowds at Tower Grove Farmers Market before this bakery-cafe had walls. Bialys and sprouted-grain English muffins, milled from local grain, come out of the kitchen the same way: unhurried and precise.

A Forno Bravo dome oven running around 700 degrees is the whole argument here. Wy'east is a pizza shop in Washington Heights where the chef came up under Portland's Apizza Scholls and brought long-fermented, natural-ingredient pies to Milwaukee. The char comes in four shades of brown, the sag is minimal, and the cheese-to-topping ratio gets the kind of attention most people reserve for something important.

The piña colada here is not the one you've been avoiding. Yellowbelly is a tropical cocktail bar and restaurant on Lindell where mezcal, rum, passionfruit, and coconut show up balanced and thought-through rather than sticky-sweet. A jungle mural and serious plant situation set the mood, and the food, fish tacos and salmon tostadas and the like, holds its own alongside the drinks. It's the kind of place that makes a Tuesday feel like a decent idea.

A hotel where the casino floor hums around the clock and the day spa exists, heroically, just down the hall. Live! is a AAA Four Diamond property near BWI and Arundel Mills, and the draw is the sheer volume of things happening under one roof: thousands of slots, live table games, a sportsbook, and headline concerts. Rooms run to pillow-top mattresses and plush robes, for when you need to remember you're at a hotel.

A cool marble bar greets you before you've even found your table, and the room behind it, skylighted and hung with art, reads as elegant without being airless. This is a polished American dining room in Kalorama where the menu follows the seasons and the service stays warm instead of formal. The martinis are serious, and the pastry program gives you an actual reason to stay for dessert.

Four custom-built smokers anchor this sprawling East End barbecue joint, which runs a Tex-Mex menu alongside the classic Texas lineup so you can follow brisket enchiladas with a meat plate and call it research. There's a beer garden and live music too, which means an afternoon here has a way of becoming an evening. The Michelin Guide has it selected, and the Houston Chronicle put it on its top 100 list. Come with a plan, then abandon it at the counter.

The salsa bar alone could justify a visit: nearly a dozen house-made salsas, each in its own small cup, running from tangy pineapple to smoky morita to a bracingly fresh serrano. Casa Corazon is a gourmet Southern Mexican restaurant tucked into a small red building on Phoenix's 16th Street corridor, where the menu leans into regional dishes and pairs naturally with Mexican wine or a fresh-fruit margarita. Eater counts it among Phoenix's best.

A 9,000-square-foot contemporary art gallery that also happens to have hotel rooms attached, 21c sits in Louisville's reinvented post-industrial downtown and takes the boutique hotel concept somewhere genuinely stranger than most cities would tolerate. Penguins, provocations, and the occasional unsettling sculpture greet you in the lobby. The kind of place that makes you feel underdressed for the elevator, in the best possible way, regardless of what you're wearing.

A 48-room boutique hotel in West Adams, a neighborhood better known for its restaurants than its overnight options. Alsace LA leans into an unlikely pairing of Southern California ease and Western European sensibility, with a courtyard, a small pool, and a fitness center that takes itself seriously. A modern Japanese restaurant by Danny Elmaleh is on site, and the surrounding streets give guests plenty of reasons to wander.

The white Victorian pile in the Berkeley Hills has been visible from across the bay for as long as anyone can remember, a Fairmont resort that manages to feel more country estate than corporate flag. Rooms are handsome across the board, and the grounds run to multiple outdoor pools, a full tennis club, and a spa. On a clear day San Francisco is right there on the horizon, close enough to admire and far enough to ignore.

A century-old building in Oklahoma City's West Village District, with exposed brick and warehouse ceilings tall enough to feel genuinely grand, now runs as a boutique hotel with a pool bar, cabanas, and DJ sets that suggest the guests have places to be. Mary Eddy's Italian Grill and a grab-and-go coffee counter keep you fed without leaving the building. Paycom Center is walkable, which either matters to you or it doesn't.

A boutique hotel next to Virginia Commonwealth University, Graduate Richmond leans into the city rather than the campus, with décor paying tribute to Richmond tennis legend Arthur Ashe instead of the usual school-colors approach. The Graduate chain is built on the idea that a college-town hotel should feel nostalgic without feeling cheap, so expect something warmer and more considered than a standard chain property.

Exposed brick salvaged from whatever stood here before sits in the suites alongside walkout balconies over 7th Avenue, and that tension between old and new is the whole point of this boutique hotel. It sits in Ybor City, Tampa's old tobacco-and-immigrant district, and leans into that history hard, with local artisans handling the décor. Flor Fina handles bistro dining; Café Quiquiriqui handles guava pastelitos at a more forgiving hour.

A reborn version of an old-school Kansas City landmark, this boutique hotel in the Financial District is part of the 21c Museum Hotel group, which has quietly turned the idea of a hotel art program into something you'd actually stop walking for. Contemporary art is woven through the building rather than hung as afterthought, and the rooms sit inside bones that go back forever. It's the kind of place that makes a weekend in KC feel like a considered choice rather than a layover.

That sharply angled canopy over the entrance looks lifted straight from a roadside motel, which is more or less the point. The Royal Sun is a boutique hotel on the edge of downtown Palm Springs where mid-century modern is taken seriously rather than gestured at: boxy stone facade, tangerine trim, outdoor corridors, and inside, a bar and restaurant with checkered floors and curved booths that feel genuinely period, not costume.

Folk art, hand-painted tiles, and block-printed quilts fill a six-story early 20th-century apartment building that the Fan District has quietly needed for years. Shenandoah Mansions is a boutique hotel with a slightly gothic streak, each suite shaped around a piece of Virginia history. Two cocktail bars, an all-day dining room, and a small garden mean there's rarely a reason to leave the block, which the neighborhood seems perfectly fine with.

A reimagined 1940s motor inn a short walk from the beach in Oceanside, the last low-key stretch of coast before San Diego proper takes over. Moroccan rugs, mid-century furniture, and curated art keep the rooms from feeling like a motel, even if the bones are modest. Studios have mini-fridges and coffee makers; suites add a small kitchen. A cedar hot tub and communal fire pit round things out, and the neighborhood handles the rest.

The Ninfarita has been mixed the same way since the early 1970s, and Houston would riot if that changed. This Navigation Boulevard Tex-Mex institution is credited with bringing fajitas into the national conversation, a fact locals mention with the quiet pride of a sports championship. Order the tacos a la Ninfa, the original play, and the frozen margarita that started the whole legend.

Villa Arcos is a small red shack on Navigation in the East End that serves breakfast tacos wrapped in foil, the way nature and the neighborhood intended. The flour tortillas are soft and stuffed past reason, and you order a couple at the window for a few bucks. Politicians, construction crews, and recent Montrose arrivals all stand in the same line, which is about as bipartisan as Houston gets before 9 a.m.

Six hundred rooms built low into a hillside on Kauai's south shore, open to the air in a style that nods to old Hawaii without doing a costume about it. The resort sits on Keoneloa Bay, with cascading waterfalls threading through lush gardens and a white sand beach that earns its keep at sunset. Pools, a full-service spa, and a calm sense of remove from the busier resort strip down the road round it out.

Perched at the top of one lift and the bottom of another, this 32-room boutique ski lodge in Telluride's Mountain Village is about as well-positioned as a hotel can get without actually being on the mountain (it is, essentially, on the mountain). The free gondola to town glides past the front, slopeside rooms catch the snowcats at night, and the bar deck doubles as prime viewing for summer concerts. Selected by both Michelin and Forbes.

A gold chandelier anchors the two-story lobby, and racehorses rendered in silhouette cover the wall behind the front desk, setting the tone for this casino resort built around a working thoroughbred track. The rooms nod to the stables outside, bed frames and all, while marble corridors are lined with portraits of past guests like Al Capone. The spa runs vintage, the steakhouse runs serious, and the lounges have sightlines to the track.

A chocolate bar at check-in, milk or dark, sets the tone at this grand hilltop resort overlooking Hersheypark. The Hotel Hershey sits on 300 acres of formal gardens, fountains, and reflecting pools, with hiking trails, a putting course, tennis, and an outdoor pool complex keeping guests occupied between meals. The spa does a Whipped Cocoa Bath, which is either the most on-brand thing imaginable or a reason to book specifically.

The front desk at this Auburn hotel is staffed, at least in part, by hospitality students learning the trade in real time, which sounds like a recipe for chaos but runs suspiciously smoothly. The Laurel sits inside Auburn University's culinary science center, with a fine dining room, a rooftop terrace, a microbrewery, and a coffee roastery on the premises. The spa adds a Himalayan Salt Room, which feels like a wellness trend bingo square, but guests seem to find it restorative.

Cottages, harbor-facing rooms, and a couple of downtown lofts make up this waterfront resort sitting right on Nantucket Harbor. The views do most of the talking, but the rooms hold their own with gas fireplaces, private decks, and a small elephant pillow on the bed that is somehow less kitschy than it sounds. Boats, beaches, and the island's shops are all within easy reach, which means you'll spend very little time actually sitting still.

Carts trundle through this spacious Cantonese dim sum hall on weekends, and by midday the entrance is already a bottleneck of people clutching numbered tickets. Point at what rolls past: lacquered duck, chewy lo mein, dumplings, fried wontons. The servers are moving fast and the tables are crowded and dimly lit, and the whole operation hums along in cheerful, productive disorder. Phoenix New Times handed it Best Dim Sum in 2025.

Jackfruit quesabirria tacos with plant-based mozzarella are the headline at this vegan Mexican taco shop in the Arcadia neighborhood, a casual counter-order spot where the menu reads like any solid taqueria, right down to the bucket of Modelos. Burritos come stuffed with rice, beans, fries, and your pick of plant-based protein, which is either very 2010s or exactly what you wanted. The kind of place carnivores get dragged to and then quietly admit was fine.

The consommé-soaked, cheese-crisped birria taco is the reason this place exists, and most tables seem to know it. Kiké's is a taco shop that grew out of a food truck into a full brick-and-mortar with a bar, which means you can now chase the drip with a proper drink. Carnitas and al pastor round out the menu for anyone who needs convincing, but the birria is still running the room.

The hogfat cornbread alone tells you something about how seriously this Spring Branch barbecue spot takes its sides. Smoked meats are the main event, but the menu stretches into smoked wings, a cheeseburger that gets its own devoted following, and unconventional sides like sweet-and-spicy Brussels sprouts and pimento mac and cheese. There's a full bar and a small outdoor play area, which makes Wednesday's kids-eat-free, half-off-wine deal feel almost too well-considered.

The grandma slice is the reason to linger: airy crumb, crackery bottom, and a sauce that tastes like someone had strong feelings about it. Mama's Boy is a two-floor NY-style slice shop in Uptown Oakland, counter orders downstairs and a little more breathing room above. The 20-inch pies go whole or by the slice, with garlic knots and local draft to round things out. It landed at #9 on 50 Top Pizza's national slice list, which is a specific thing to brag about.

Red umbrellas cover the ceiling, a dumpling-making station runs in full view, and various family members compete to greet you at the door before George can get there. This Chinese American restaurant in north Dallas has been around forever, and co-owner April Kao still travels to China each year to pull regional ideas back into the menu. Handmade noodles and egg foo young anchor the regulars, but the dumplings are why Dallas Observer handed them a Best Dumplings nod.

Tucked into a South Miami-Dade golf course in a way that makes zero sense until you smell the smoke, Apocalypse BBQ is a bare-bones barbecue shop with a no-phone, no-takeout policy and a cult following to match. The menu leans Miami: cafecito ribs, brisket bacon, wild boar burgers. The wait is long, the free beer while you stand in line is a nice consolation, and the skull-shaped cornbread drizzled with hot honey is not subtle about what kind of place this is.

Giorgio Rapicavoli, the Chopped champion behind several Miami spots, set up this cozy osteria on Giralda Avenue's pedestrian strip in Coral Gables. The menu leans into Italian classics with playful detours: pasta al limone with pistachios, a tuna caprese built on local stracciatella, and a dish named after Stanley Tucci that the man himself would presumably approve of. The aperitifs get the same inventive treatment as the food.