The Best Places in the United States

An unmarked door at the back of Cole's opens into a dimly lit cocktail bar where jazz plays low and Victorian oil lamps glow against wood-panelled walls. The late Sasha Petraske was a part owner, and the room feels exactly like something he'd have built: serious about its classic cocktails, quiet enough to hear the ice hit the glass, and a little too good at making you lose track of the hour.

The name comes from a bourbon cocktail on an old Range menu, which is the kind of origin story that tells you exactly what kind of bar this is. Gun-metal grey walls, bare wood floors, and 70s utilitarian furniture give Dogpatch's Third Rail a chill it takes a drink or two to shake. A neighborhood cocktail bar that doesn't perform warmth, and regulars seem to prefer it that way.

The vintage jukebox leans Glenn Miller and Rat Pack standards, which tells you everything about what kind of night Tosca Café is selling. This old-school North Beach cocktail bar has been around forever, all dark wood and faded glamour that a sympathetic restoration polished back to a shine. Come late, order something simple, and let the room do its thing. If the playlist sounds like your grandparents' wedding, you'll fit right in.

The elongated leaf-shaped island bar, ringed in mustard yellow and sage green stools, sets the tone here: grown-up, art deco, easy jazz in the background. This is a proper cocktail bar where sitting at the counter is the point, not a fallback while you wait for a table. The bartenders are worth watching, and the cocktail menu gives you plenty of reasons to stay put.

Edison bulbs over factory-tiled walls and a ceiling that looks like it never quite finished being renovated: Whitehall calls itself a "gastro bar" rather than a gastropub, and the distinction holds. It's a neighborhood cocktail bar on Greenwich Avenue with a modern British menu running alongside, but people mostly come for the warm room and the staff who seem to mean it. Think London train station, interpreted loosely and affectionately.

The Elizabeth Taylor portrait in the lobby sets the tone: this is a hotel that takes its vintage glamour seriously without quite winking at you. A mid-century beachfront resort on Collins Avenue, Eden Roc draws on Morris Lapidus's sweeping architecture for rooms with oceanfront views, a sprawling spa, and poolside daybeds where frozen cocktails arrive at a civilized pace. The vibe skews polished rather than party-forward, which on South Beach counts as a genuine position.

A natural wine bar tucked into a downtown alley, Goodtime Bar is about the size of a large walk-in closet, which somehow only adds to the energy. The formula is simple: zippy, low-intervention pours and creative small plates that pull from all over, including a bucatini seasoned with Thai tom yum. The San Francisco Chronicle put it on their Top 100 Bay Area restaurants list, and the overflow crowd spilling out front on any given night suggests people got the memo.

The only Somali restaurant in the Bay Area sits in a circular building near a train station and has the easy, welcoming energy of a diner. The suqaar, chicken or beef stir-fried with peppers and the earthy Somali spice blend xawaash, arrives wrapped in flatbread or plated over rice, injera, or spaghetti. The San Francisco Chronicle puts it in the Bay Area Top 100.

The hand-built Neapolitan wood-fired oven is the centerpiece, and the pizzas coming out of it show why. Falora is a candlelit neighborhood pizza spot where the menu leans vegetable-forward, with toppings like butternut squash purée, roasted cauliflower, and white truffle oil over feta. House-made pasta and big salads round things out. The room is cozy in the way that actually means cozy, communal tables and all, and it draws a crowd that's clearly been here before.

Hand-stretched noodles tossed in chili oil are the move at this casual Chinese restaurant on North First, where the menu leans into Xian flavors: lamb with cumin, spicy lamb noodle soup, cold cucumber with garlic. The room is low-key and bright, with calligraphy on the walls and a vending machine of decorative figurines near the counter that nobody asked for but somehow fits perfectly.

A mural of Anthony Bourdain watches over the salsa bar at this colorful westside Mexican spot, which also happens to make a mole latte. The blackboard menu shifts constantly, running from mahi mahi tacos to vegan Cuban tacos, so there's rarely a reason to expect the same meal twice. Hikers coming down from Tumamoc Hill fill the room, still sandy from the trail, which tells you roughly what to wear.

Outdoor-only seating under a covered brick patio means you're eating in the Tucson sun no matter what, which somehow feels exactly right for a no-frills Mexican spot that's been feeding the neighborhood forever. Carne asada tacos, chile rellenos in tomato sauce, tamales, breakfast burritos, horchata from a big jar on the counter. The menu hasn't drifted toward trend, and the regulars at the picnic tables seem glad about that.

Racing memorabilia lines the exposed brick walls of this craft brewery, where the beer garden stretches out to fire pits, communal tables, and a corner that welcomes dogs. A rotating food truck or two parks out front, so you're not stuck choosing between a pint and dinner. The house IPAs lean citrusy and dry, and the blonde ale is the kind of thing you order when the Tucson heat starts winning.

A banh mi Benedict gives you a pretty clear read on where Nook's head is at. This downtown Tucson breakfast and brunch spot does New American riffs on morning classics, with local art on the walls and the kind of wooden-and-light interior that makes a 10am meal feel like a considered decision. The hanger steak and eggs with smoked chimichurri quietly upstages everything around it. Weekends fill up fast.

Hand-painted signage and coolers stocked with aguas frescas and Mexican sodas set the tone at this old-school Tucson taquería. The menu runs from breakfast burritos to chilaquiles to pozole available by the cup or, if things are going well, by the gallon. Vegetarians eat as well as anyone here, which is not always a given at a place this unapologetically no-frills. Bring cash and an appetite calibrated for generous portions.

The cocktail list pulls from the shelves around you, which tells you exactly what kind of place this is: part upscale liquor store, part proper bar, and committed to being both at once. Depending on which Phoenix-area location you land in, the extras might include a golf simulator, pinball, a pizzeria, or a cigar lounge. The drinks run from spritzes to stirred classics, and the bottles for sale are genuinely worth browsing.

The dining room walls look like marble, the ceiling traces a ring of light around wood paneling, and the menu runs about a dozen items. This Santa Clara Korean restaurant keeps its focus narrow: the main pull is seolleongtang, a milky, slow-cooked beef bone broth with oxtail and slippery rice noodles. Weekends pack the strip mall with families willing to wait thirty minutes for a bowl, which tells you most of what you need to know.

A J-shaped yellow bar and a handful of stools are the entire dining room at this takeout-only shack in San Rafael, and most people just grab their box and go. The menu changes constantly, sometimes the morning of, and things sell out. The chef pulls from various Asian cuisines and California seasonality, so one week it's pork in black vinegar caramel over rice, the next it's ceviche salad. Call ahead or arrive early, and arrive with no fixed idea of what you want.

Dollar bills papering the walls floor to ceiling, Christmas lights above, and a stage that gets a rock band most nights of the week: Chopper John's is a dive bar that knows exactly what it is. The black-and-red room off Indian School Road draws regulars who look like they were designed to match the decor. Pool tables, a patio for smokers, and baseball on the TV fill in the gaps between sets.

A checkerboard dancefloor, light-up floors downstairs, and a patio that sulks attractively outside, all packed into a small downtown nightclub that drew a line around the block on opening night. DJ sets and pop-up food nights keep the calendar full, but the periodic Dance Dance Revolution parties and lube wrestling events are what really set the tone. The crowd is genuinely mixed in the best way, and nobody seems to be here ironically.

Vintage arcade cabinets run on Cobra-stamped tokens, which tells you everything about the vibe before you've touched a joystick. This cocktail bar and arcade in downtown Phoenix covers its walls in local murals, pours signature drinks with names like Garbage Pail Kids and Punch Out, and hosts Valley DJs on weekends. When the crowd hits comic-con density, an anime-themed overflow lounge a few doors down offers Japanese import games and cocktails served in fugu-shaped mugs.

Red-lit and tucked into a corner of Bishop Arts that requires a little intention to find, LadyLove is a lounge and dance bar that somehow calibrated the music at exactly the volume where you can still finish a sentence. The crowd skews queer and curious, the patio turns strangers into regulars, and the house cocktails lean tart and a little spicy. DJ nights run on Saturdays.

A craft brewery taproom in north Scottsdale that solved the age-old standoff between beer nerds and sports fans by simply installing TVs everywhere. The brewmaster leans toward classic European styles, rotating Czech lagers, English milds, and an Oktoberfest marzen through the taps. The covered patio connects to a permanent BBQ food trailer, so there's no reason to leave at halftime. Phoenix New Times named it Best New Brewery of 2025.

The gougères come with a side of Comté fondue, because why not gild the lily twice. Barbouzard is a glitzy Southern French dining room from Cédric Maupillier, and it reads more Riviera than Washington, which is the whole point. The deconstructed bouillabaisse and plancha scallops in curry sauce show a chef having fun with the format. At lunch, the K Street crowd fills in around a brisk prix fixe that moves fast enough to make a noon reservation feel civilized.

The onion soup follows Julia Child's recipe and nobody has touched it, which tells you something about the kitchen's instincts. This casually elegant French bistro in Sterling plays with the classics just enough, turning tuna tartare into something that reads like steak, serving Brie crispy, while leaving the soul of the thing intact. The Washingtonian named that tartare one of their favorite DC-area dishes of the year.

The benne dosa here folds like a quesadilla rather than rolling into a cylinder, which tells you this is Bangalorean, not generic Indian. It's a casual dosa counter in a Herndon strip mall that somehow has the quiet confidence of a place that doesn't need to explain itself. The butter-lacquered exterior crisps up hard while the inside stays soft with masala potatoes and podi, a coarse spice mix that the Washingtonian named among its favorite dishes of the year.

Sangria in towers and a drink menu that lists "mimosas" as the soup of the day sets the tone fast at this sports bar on Greenville Ave. Every seat inside, on the patio, or up on the rooftop faces a TV, which makes the place essentially one large, well-lubricated viewing party. Best for a sunny afternoon when the patio fills up and someone's local team is on.

Guinness signs and hand-drawn maps of Ireland cover the walls of this Irish pub and restaurant in the far western suburbs of Phoenix. Fish and chips, corned beef and cabbage, and a full Irish breakfast on weekends anchor the menu. Bartenders know regulars by name, and the event calendar stays busy with live music, karaoke, and trivia nights, which is a lot to offer a neighborhood that doesn't always get this kind of attention.

A chalkboard of rotating cocktail specials and a basement bathed so completely in red light that no other color survives the trip down. This speakeasy-style cocktail bar is tucked beneath the Renaissance Phoenix Downtown Hotel, behind a mural and open only two nights a week, which is exactly the energy. Vintage velvet chairs and low tables give it the feel of a sitting room someone forgot to leave, and the drinks arrive in coupes and crystal-cut rocks glasses.

A Japantown hotel where the lobby's 19-foot Douglas fir ceilings and open pipe shelving make the place feel more like a very well-curated living room than a hotel. The design splits the difference between Japanese and Scandinavian, which sounds like a thesis project but works. Rooms get dark gray walls hung with calligraphy and modern Japanese art, a clear step up from the obligatory Alcatraz watercolor. Cozy without being precious about it.

One of the few surviving pre-earthquake Queen Anne mansions in the city, this 12-room boutique hotel is more cabinet of curiosities than traditional lodging. Stained glass, intricate woodwork, Italian marble, and original Louis Icart paintings fill the common areas, and no two guest rooms are alike, some charmingly, some quirkily so. Condé Nast Traveler named it among San Francisco's best hotels.

Brass lighting and graphic fabric break up the white walls at this design-forward Mid-Market hotel, which is doing its best impression of a nearby SFMOMA annex. The 236 rooms lean minimalist, softened by wood surfaces and deep soaking tubs, with double-paned windows keeping the neighborhood's noise at bay. Higher floors pull in proper skyline views, and the minibar runs on local snacks rather than the usual sad peanuts.

Pinball machines and candlelight set the tone at this casual gay cocktail bar on 16th Street, where the vibe leans more neighborhood hangout than high-drama nightclub. Lounge seating, a patio, and daily drink specials keep regulars coming back through the week. The menu covers craft cocktails, bar snacks, and specialty shots, which is all you really need when the room is this relaxed.

Gold palm fronds hang over the bar like a permanent vacation has been declared, and the drinks menu at this Cuban cocktail bar treats rum the way a serious wine list treats Burgundy. The daiquiri and mojito get thoughtful treatment alongside wilder tropical builds. The same team runs Pigtails and Rough Rider, so the pedigree tracks. Pink tiles, cozy booths, and food to keep things grounded.

Cash only, dark inside, and on any given night you might have to squeeze past a metal band unloading gear in the parking lot just to get through the door. Palo Verde is a Tempe dive bar where construction workers in hi-vis vests share the rail with ASU newcomers and neighborhood lifers. Drinks are cheap and poured strong, and the bartender has your order memorized before you've taken your jacket off.

The 12 tap handles are mounted in a repurposed fire truck behind the bar, which tells you everything you need to know about the vibe. Roosters is a country bar that's been an East Valley institution forever, with a red-and-black checkered dance floor, pool tables, live music most nights, open mics, and karaoke. A second stage and beer tubs sit out on the smoking patio. Strangers introduce you to their friends before the first round is done.

A small Bob Ross shrine materialized organically behind the bar here, one piece at a time, and nobody stopped it. That sets the tone for this cocktail bar just west of Bishop Arts, where the drinks are serious but the attitude is neighborly. The classics menu leans on genuine pillars of the canon, and happy hour runs deep into the week. Weeknights feel like catching up; weekends feel like something else entirely.

Eighteen floors above Mill Avenue, this open-air rooftop bar and pool lounge sits atop The Westin Tempe, claiming the highest perch of any outdoor bar in the Valley. The bar itself is the only covered spot up there, so order first, then wander the full 360 degrees: A Mountain one way, the Mill Avenue Bridge glowing at night the other. Seasonal cocktails and local Arizona beers do the heavy lifting, with flatbreads and tacos for ballast.

Pint glasses hang from the ceiling and dollar bills plaster the columns at this Irish pub tucked into the back of a downtown Phoenix hotel. The menu runs shepherd's pie, fish and chips, and beef stew, with Guinness on draft doing most of the heavy lifting. A jug of apple pie shots on the bar suggests the night can go a few different directions. Phoenix New Times named it one of the top 100 bars in the city in 2025.

A nomadic chalupa stand that bounces around northern Queens, posting intersections on Facebook like a food truck that's read too much Kerouac. Track it down and you're rewarded with tortillas fried in hot lard, then loaded with shredded pork, white onion, and whichever salsa you choose, or both. The New York Times named it among New York's top dishes of 2024 and ranked it on their 100 Best Restaurants list. Eight chalupas run about ten dollars.