The Best Places in the United States

The ghost that allegedly climbed into a guest's bed sets the tone for this storied Sunset Strip hotel, where the dress code has always been "eccentric wealthy" and the history involves Howard Hughes training binoculars on the pool from his penthouse. Clark Gable apparently conducted himself here with considerable scandal. William Holden was advised to bring his bad behavior specifically to the Marmont. The Michelin Guide awarded it 2 Keys.

Ski-in/ski-out inside the gated Deer Crest community, this St. Regis resort sits on 12 slopeside acres above Park City with stone fireplaces and Juliette balconoes in every room. The split-level infinity pool appears to float over the snow-covered Wasatch Range, and the Yurt Village's heated stargazing domes handle private dining with a certain theatrical flair. Nightly champagne sabrage by the Fire Garden keeps things from getting too wholesome. A Forbes Four Star property.

The neon sign and wrought-iron balconies have been drawing poets, musicians, and general troublemakers to this West Chelsea hotel for generations. A recent restoration brought it back without sanding off the mythology, which is a harder trick than it sounds. Rooms feel like somewhere a person could actually live, which many people famously did. The Michelin Guide awarded it one Key. Dylan Thomas drank here; Taylor Swift wrote a song about it.

The facade of a 1929 Chicago landmark wraps this boutique luxury hotel on Rush Street, where Art Deco details share space with 21st-century comforts. It's named for sculptor Gwen Lux, whose work still ornaments the exterior, and the fifth-floor lobby leans into that Jazz Age identity hard. A rooftop bar with firepits, a weekend Tipsy Tea, and a see-and-be-seen cocktail lounge round out a property that holds a Michelin Key.

A 30-foot teal wall inscribed with Marcel Proust greets you in the lobby, which sets the tone for this Gold Coast boutique hotel with more personality than most. The 180 rooms lean midcentury, with a warm gold-and-teal palette and guest room doors in mismatched colors. A rooftop bar handles cocktails and skyline views, and Oak Street Beach is a short walk. The Michelin Guide awarded it one Key.

The eponymous julep anchors the menu, but this Washington Ave cocktail bar stretches well past that single calling card into a sprawling collection of bourbon and a drink list built around herbs and Southern ingredients most bars don't bother sourcing. The vibe is old-school Southern hospitality without the kitsch, and the James Beard Award for Outstanding Bar Program in 2022 suggests the approach landed.

Ian Schrager's Lower East Side hotel skips the front desk entirely: check-in happens when a "PUBLIC Advisor" finds you in the lobby. The idea behind the place is that luxury and accessibility don't have to be mutually exclusive, which sounds like a tagline until you see it in practice. It's on the World's 50 Best Hotels list, and the Michelin Guide has it selected. Stylish without the velvet-rope attitude, which in New York counts for something.

A stone fireplace anchors the multi-story lobby here, with leather armchairs and oriental rugs doing their best to convince you that roughing it and a Forbes Four Star rating can coexist. This lodge-style ski resort sits slope-side in the Wasatch Mountains, gondola-connected to the runs in winter and surrounded by hiking and mountain biking trails come summer. Every guest room has its own working fireplace, so the apres-ski atmosphere follows you upstairs.

The floating pagoda table on a koi pond is exactly as over-the-top as it sounds, which is probably why it's the hardest reservation in the building. Mizumi is a fine-dining Japanese restaurant inside Wynn, recently stripped of its red lacquer drama in favor of teak beams, indigo, and lantern light. The kitchen leans innovative, with sushi and sashimi that feel almost too precise to eat.

The brick facade on Main Street has been hosting Aspen's overflow of ambition since the silver boom, and the lobby still feels like a place where someone famous might be waiting in a chair. Hotel Jerome is a Michelin Key hotel in the Auberge Collection, equal parts mountain lodge and grand European inheritance, with rooms that lean into the altitude and outdoor Jacuzzis that make the cold feel like a feature rather than a problem.

The Diplomac, a chef-ified riff on a Big Mac, says more about this East Side restaurant than any press clipping could. Dane Baldwin, who holds a James Beard Award for Best Chef Midwest, runs a room that somehow keeps duck breast and deviled eggs on equal footing, classy enough for a date night but relaxed enough that nobody feels like they wandered in by mistake. Brady Street is lucky to have it back.

Perched on a bluff above the Pacific, this Forbes Five Star resort does the full coastal California thing without apology: ocean-view rooms, two golf courses threading along the cliffs, and service warm enough to make the fog feel like a design choice. The chandeliers are set with rock crystals, the carpet was inspired by a walk on wet sand, and the ballroom is large enough to host a small nation's worth of wedding guests.

A Romanesque Revival building that spent its postwar years full of artists' lofts is now a boutique hotel that essentially defined what a SoHo loft hotel looks like. Christian Liaigre's renovation gave the rooms their spare, low-slung calm, and that aesthetic has aged better than most of its imitators. The Michelin Guide awarded it one Key. Style-world regulars still treat it as a default, which is either a recommendation or a warning, depending on your feelings about that crowd.

Nickel City is an East Austin neighborhood bar that has been pouring drinks on this corner since the 1930s and sees no reason to get fancy about it. The focus is cold beer, boilermakers, and draft Pimm's, with the occasional Aperol Spritz for anyone feeling continental. A food truck out back sells Detroit-style Coney dogs and wings, which is how a quick drink turns into a full afternoon.

This is a Wolfgang Puck steakhouse inside the Shoppes at Palazzo, the sort of place where the wagyu comes from Hokkaido and Australia and the check comes from a much higher power. Expect jackets, expense accounts, and a dining room built for closing deals or pretending to. The Japanese beef burger gets you the same pedigree without the second mortgage, and the man himself occasionally works the room.

Allday is a minimalist neighborhood pizzeria on Speedway, turning out New York-style pies with a lightly charred, still-chewy crust and a tangy sauce. The Pep & Pepp stacks tiny pepperonis under diced pepperoncini, which is about as much suspense as a pizza needs. A six-slice sampler arrives on one tray for the undecided. It has turned up on The Infatuation's best pizza in America list.

Uni custard with brown butter, red curry hollandaise, and a torch of cinnamon tells you immediately where you stand: somewhere north of Boston that plays by its own rules. Nightshade Noodle Bar in Lynn is a tasting-format noodle restaurant with a kitchen that treats cuisine borders as suggestions. The room is a black box, the playlist is loud, and the team is warm. Rachel Miller was a James Beard semifinalist in 2025, and the Times put it on their Boston list.

A chandelier made of real antlers hangs in the living room beside one shaped like icicles, which tells you everything about the tone here. This 12-suite boutique hotel occupies a limestone schoolhouse in Old Town Park City, with reclaimed barn-wood floors, European antiques, and a fireplace that earns its keep. The chef cooks a complimentary breakfast and après-ski snacks, and a ski valet handles the gear. Park City Mountain is a short walk away.

A nose-to-tail British bistro in the Village where the duck-stuffed cabbage arrives large enough to feed a small party. The team behind Dame brought the same easy warmth here: cozy banquettes, unhurried service, and bar stools held for walk-ins even on a packed night. The menu leans into hearty English classics with just enough creative wobble to stay interesting. Food & Wine named the chef a Best New Chef in 2023, and a James Beard semifinalist nod followed.

The take-home price on any bottle you fall for is half off, which tells you the kind of wine bar this is. Tucked into the Arts District, Garagiste is a low-key room built around boutique pours from the less-traveled wine regions, with a list that shifts constantly. Tasting flights let you range around without committing. No garlic butter nearby threatening the palate. A James Beard Outstanding Bar nominee in 2023.

A 43-room hotel tucked into Pacific Heights so quietly it reads as a mansion on the block. Wood-paneled lobby, inlaid floors, and actual metal keys behind the front desk telegraph the vibe: old San Francisco, the residential kind, not the tourist kind. Cream-and-white rooms, heated bathroom floors, complimentary breakfast, and a wine reception round it out. The Michelin Guide awarded it one Key.

The servers at this Italian-American red-sauce institution work the room in tuxedos, and they know it. Plush banquettes, glittering chandeliers, and mid-century classics on the menu make Carbone feel like a fever dream of 1960s New York that never cooled down. The rigatoni alla vodka is famous for a reason, the prices are serious, and getting a reservation requires planning well in advance.

A.K. is a counter-service pizza shop on Martin Luther King Jr Way, where a sign above the register promises a dough show and the crust follows through, with a charred, dry crunch outside and a pillowy rip within. The plain pie tastes like a Manhattan street corner, minus the humidity and the trash bags. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best pizza places in America, so expect a line of people with strong opinions about crust.

Midnight-blue walls, gold accents, and a Persian rug that has no business being this plush set the mood at Apéro, a French restaurant on P Street where champagne and caviar are essentially the whole thesis. The back garden is the kind of spot people pretend to stumble upon. The menu fills out with French classics for anyone who needs an excuse beyond caviar, which, to be fair, is most of us.

Part restaurant, part charcuterie counter, Augustine's Salumeria is a relaxed modern Italian spot in Mamaroneck where the menu leans hard on Westchester farms and local fishermen. The kitchen turns out Italian-leaning dishes alongside nightly specials that change the calculation every time. The room feels like a neighborhood place that happens to cook with serious intention, which is a comfortable combination.

The beignets come out warm, filled with ricotta, and draped with Benton's ham, and the question of how many is too many has no clean answer. This is Aaron Bludorn's easygoing neighborhood bar and dining room, wrapped in dark wood with a gleaming open kitchen visible from most seats. The menu runs from pasta to half chicken to devil's food cake, all built for sharing. A Michelin Guide selection, and the kind of place that makes a Tuesday feel like a reasonable excuse.

Bardot is a Michael Mina brasserie tucked inside Aria, a windowless black-and-white room where it's always a flattering 8 p.m. and fresh flowers cover every surface. A shellfish cart rolls past, a martini program has its own national press, and at brunch someone sings Shania Twain over the croissants. It's a dressy-casual, mid-to-upper price French spot, and it holds three AAA diamonds.

A Michelin-starred bistro in the Arts District where the steak au poivre and golden frites hold their ground alongside some genuinely inventive plating. The kitchen leans French but isn't reverent about it, which is part of the appeal. The Provence Martini made Esquire's list of the finest in the country, so the bar pulls its weight too. It fills up fast and the open kitchen keeps the room loud and kinetic.

Red brick walls, local art, and wood worn down by decades of good evenings set the tone at John Currence's Southern restaurant and bar on Oxford's courthouse square. The menu turns with the seasons but stays close to the region, running from fried green tomatoes with shrimp remoulade to the shrimp and grits that regulars treat as non-negotiable. Portions are built for sharing, and the bar earns its own reputation, landing on Wildsam's list of essential American bars.

This is the Wooster Street pizzeria that made New Haven argue about whether "apizza" is a word, and the pies still come out of a coal-fired oven with a charred, smoky bottom and a crust that stays rigid when you lift a slice. The white clam pie is the famous one, briny and heavy on garlic. Plan on a line down the block, eaten at plain tables, with no one in sight fussing over a wine list.

Brick floors, creeping vines, and a crowd that seems to have been cast by a Venice Beach location scout. This Abbot Kinney institution is a Mediterranean restaurant built around wood-fired pizzas and shared plates, with vegetables doing serious heavy lifting on the menu. It's spawned a bakery, a to-go counter, and a cookbook, which is a lot of offspring for one room. A Michelin Selected spot that's also on the all-time Eater 38.

Kinchley's is a New Jersey tavern that treats the bar pie as a birthright, with a thin, crackery crust, sauce that runs right to the edge, and cheese that blisters into little craters. Friday night belongs to families who've been showing up for generations and greet the servers like cousins. It's casual and cash-register cheap, and the toppings get weird in a way purists will mutter about, like creamed spinach.

This is a Basque restaurant in an old three-story hotel building, where dinner arrives as a parade: soup, salad, beans, fries, bread, and a glass of house wine, with a main course somewhere in the middle. Strangers share long tables, so you'll make friends whether or not you were planning to. Most people order the Picon Punch, a brandy-and-grenadine thing in a bell-shaped glass, and nobody tries to talk them out of it.

Fine dining in downtown Wilmington that skips the hush and the tweezers, with a menu that changes often and leans on North Carolina farms for its crab, duck, and Carolina Gold rice. The wine program is serious enough to justify the city's only underground cellar, which is a fun thing to say about Wilmington. Service is warm and unstiff, so you can dress up without rehearsing. It's in the Michelin Guide as a Selected Restaurant.

Floral barstools, a patio that catches every bit of the La Jolla sun, and tiki drinks that mean it, this is a destination restaurant where the tropical theme actually does the work rather than just hanging on the walls. The kitchen leans into it too, with local ingredients pulled in Asian and tropical directions. The robata-grilled coconut shrimp is a good signal of the mood: familiar enough to order without thinking, specific enough to make you glad you did.