The Best Places in the United States

The kidney-shaped pool alone explains why someone brought a camera crew. The Springs Motel is a restored mid-century motor inn on Route 7 in the Berkshires, the kind of place that got a boutique makeover and then had that makeover filmed for TV. Cabins handle the larger groups, while the outdoor bar trailer and generous lawn keep everyone else occupied. It photographs well, and it holds up in person too.

Nina Freudenberger's Danish-modernist touch sits just across from Moonstone Beach, where the Central Coast fog rolls in and nobody particularly minds. White Water is a boutique hotel designed for people who drove up the 1 to disappear for a few days, not to post about it. The rooms are calm and considered, the kind of place that makes you remember why you packed a paperback.

A converted boarding house on Tilghman Island, the Wylder is a boutique hotel that does the Chesapeake Bay aesthetic without the usual kitsch, leaning on wood, brass, and rattan rather than lighthouse prints. Rooms come with Egyptian cotton and tablet concierge service, outside there's a saltwater pool and a private marina, and the hotel pairs guests with local charter captains. Maryland blue crab arrives via two on-site restaurants, one helmed by a longtime José Andrés collaborator.

The shihan ful arrives with two crusty sourdough rolls and no apology for the carbs. This Eritrean cafe in Oakland has been a neighborhood anchor for ages, the kind of spot where newcomers immediately feel like regulars. Fava beans, berbere, crumbled cheese, and a hit of lemon make that breakfast stew hard to skip, though the lunch tibsy, a spiced meat stew over injera, holds its own. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Top 100 Bay Area restaurants.

The salt-and-pepper chicken wings at this old-school Cantonese restaurant in Chinatown have a following that borders on devotional. Wok-tossed with garlic and jalapeño, the crunch when you bite in is audible across the room, which is either a party trick or a warning, depending on your table neighbors. The rest of the menu holds its own too, but the wings are why regulars come, and why they stay a little longer than planned.

A pint-sized deli on Telegraph where a fine-dining pedigree gets quietly redirected into sandwiches. The fried chicken, dusted in Sichuan peppercorns and Korean chile flakes, is the one that put this place on the map, but the sisig bolillo, fatty pork head in a crisp bubbly roll, makes a strong case for staying longer. The menu shifts with the season, so cold days bring hotter sandwiches. The San Francisco Chronicle put it at number 30 in the Bay Area.

A turquoise mariscos truck parked in a strip-mall lot, doing Mazatlán-style seafood with chiltepin chiles as the house religion. The chiltepin is tiny, round, and hits with a fast, focused heat that bypasses polite warning entirely. Everything is raw and marinated to order, so the aguachiles arrive electric with lime and pepper. Outdoor communal tables come stocked with tostadas and a crate of bottled hot sauces for anyone negotiating their limits.

The owner's pun says it all: Laredough, because the dough is the whole point. This Laredo pizzeria turns out thin, airy pies sized to your appetite, with toppings scaled up or down however you like. Pepperoni is the clear crowd favorite and comes in several versions. Calzones, salads, and pasta round out the menu for the table that can never agree. The chef also uses the platform for social causes, which at least gives the pizza some moral fiber alongside the cauliflower.

A pizzeria in Thiene that builds its menu around five distinct dough philosophies, from classic sourdough with local Vicentino wheat to a rice-flour base made for heavier toppings. The range runs from straightforward to quietly ambitious, with spelt, kamut, and soy options sitting alongside vegan variations and salads served on bread disks. Craft beers, local and imported, fill the drinks list. The kind of place that takes the dough more seriously than the decor.

The dough at this contemporary Messina pizzeria goes through a long fermentation that gives each base a noticeably different aroma from the standard Neapolitan crowd. The "Specials" menu is where the kitchen makes its argument, and the fried appetizers lean artisanal rather than afterthought. The wine list tilts local. Three r's in the name, which either signals confidence or a typo that stuck, and the room seems to lean toward the former.

The wood-fired oven is the centerpiece here, visible and working hard, the kind that gives a Neapolitan pizzeria its whole reason for existing. The dough is slow-leavened and properly soft, and the menu runs from certified traditional pies to more creative builds you put together yourself. Craft beers and Italian wines round things out, and the staff actually knows the menu. Roomy enough for families, quiet enough for a date night.

The wood-fired oven is the whole point here, turning out Neapolitan-leaning pies with a light, fragrant crust that somehow holds its own under toppings that range from a straight Margherita to bacon-and-shrimp combinations that nobody in Naples signed off on. It's a neighborhood pizzeria on West Alabama, cozy enough that regulars fill the room fast on weeknights. Salads, pasta, and desserts round things out. It's on the 50 Top Pizza USA list of Excellent Pizzerias.

A 40-seat lodge restaurant on the Yakima River where the chef, a serious fisherman, is back cooking every service after closing a small fleet of Seattle spots during the pandemic. The patio looks straight up at dusty cliffs dropping to the water, and seafood is the move despite the catch-and-release river out back. Fly-fishing art on the china, hush puppies on the menu, and a neighbor who runs guided casts next door.

The tortillas here are made from house-blended yellow and white masa, which tells you the chef is treating this fast-casual taqueria with a seriousness most full-service kitchens skip. The fillings run about ten deep and lean into duck confit and steelhead al pastor, the kind of combinations that suggest a Portland fine-dining background. It all lands on metal trays, which you can offset with a margarita. Seattle Met named it among Washington's top restaurants.

A pizzeria on one of Catania's old historic streets, Corte dei Medici now runs a fuller restaurant operation alongside the pies that still anchor everything. Three dough options, including a five-cereal version, support a menu of twenty-plus pizzas that ranges from a straightforward margherita to a salted-ricotta-and-fried-zucchini number with mint. The wine list covers local and non-local bottles, and the staff is the kind that knows the room without hovering over it.

Detroit-style pizza in Napa Valley is a mild act of defiance, and Croccante leans into it. The thick, airy dough goes soft in the middle and properly crunchy at the caramelized edges, with toppings piled on hot and generous. The menu rounds out with sandwiches, meat dishes, and salads, and weekends bring brunch. The bar corner is well stocked with wine, cocktails, and non-alcoholic options, which fits the neighborhood. Named among 50 Top Pizza USA's Excellent Pizzerias.

Khachapuri, grilled kebabs, and khinkali dumplings in a low-lit room in downtown Vancouver, WA, which is not a sentence you'd expect to type. Dediko is a small Georgian restaurant, the kind that makes you wish this cuisine showed up more often in the Northwest. The menu runs through dips and grilled meat plates beyond the obvious staples, and the wine list pulls from Georgia too. Save room for the honey cake.

Housemade mafaldine with duck confit in a town that sometimes feels like a preserved-in-amber dollhouse: Finistère has a restrained Scandinavian dining room with rotating local art that quietly refuses to play along with Port Townsend's Victorian theatrics. The kitchen leans into Pacific Northwest sourcing, local oysters and albacore alongside proper pasta, and the whole thing moves with a calm confidence that comes from cooking at Per Se and Canlis before decamping to the peninsula.

The wood-fired brick oven is the whole point, and the name does not let you forget it. This is a Neapolitan pizza spot in Palm Coast carrying AVPN certification, which means the dough, the technique, and the imported ingredients answer to Naples, not to local convention. The room is casual and cozy, the kind of place that pulls you in even if you only meant to stop for a slice. Red and white pies, no pretension, and an aroma that does most of the selling.

A pizzeria in Acireale near Piazza Duomo where the dough itself is the argument: there's the classic Neapolitan, and then a Sicilian version made with ancient organic grains they've named after the place. Fried starters, including an arancino made with local cavolo trunzu, ease you in before the pizzas arrive loaded with carefully sourced ingredients. The wine list runs deeper than you'd expect, and the menu shifts with the seasons.

The wood-fired oven here was built by the founder himself, which tells you something about the level of commitment before you've even ordered. This Los Alamos flatbread spot runs on organic flour, slow fermentation, and ingredients pulled from nearby farms and ranches, all landing as thin, crispy, characterful pies. The contemporary farmhouse room is family-friendly and unhurried, and the wine list leans hard into small Central Coast producers.

A pizza spot in two stacks: a casual counter downstairs and an adults-only dining room up top, both turning out wildly creative pies built on heirloom Red Russian wheat milled by nearby sixth-generation farmers. The meat pizza somehow reads as a vegetable dish, with kale, squash, and Moroccan-spiced toum doing the heavy lifting and bacon playing backup. Upstairs pastas are quietly serious. The soundtrack on any given night might go from '90s hip-hop to something resembling the Inspector Gadget theme.

Detroit-style pizza done with a designer's eye: the room was put together by serious industry names, and the color palette announces that before you've ordered. This is a pizza shop with round pies, pan pies, and slices piled high with the kind of stretchy, abundant cheese that makes a mess of your shirt. The menu runs to salads and cocktails and ice cream too, and the whole mood lands somewhere between a proper night out and a very good Tuesday.

A Neapolitan-style pizza spot on Pacific Coast Highway where the door is literally open to the ocean breeze and the dough ferments long enough to earn it. The crust comes out thin and charred in the right spots, topped with classics or more creative combinations, and the Italian-flour base sits light enough that you won't regret the second slice. Italian wines and local craft beers round things out. Very Laguna Beach: chic but sandy.