The Best Places in the United States

Charleston's Lowcountry pantry filtered through a Mediterranean lens, The Grocery is a neighborhood restaurant where seasonal produce and local seafood share the menu in ways that feel natural rather than calculated. Fried oysters with deviled egg sauce have been here since day one, which tells you something about the kitchen's instincts. The room runs warm and unhurried, the kind of place locals treat like a standing reservation they never made.

A short, ever-changing menu of Spanish and Portuguese cooking in a cozy downtown dining room, where piri piri chicken gets finished with Wisconsin cheese without anyone apologizing for it. The chef is a James Beard Outstanding Chef semifinalist, and the kitchen takes dessert as seriously as the savory courses, which not every serious restaurant bothers to do. The kind of place where you eat things you won't find anywhere else in the city.

The curving Morris Lapidus facade alone tells you this is the kind of hotel that wants you to notice it. A big, loud Collins Avenue resort with over 1,500 rooms, multiple pools, and a nightclub, LIV, that keeps the lobby moving well past midnight. Bachelorette sashes and convention lanyards coexist peacefully by the pool bar. The Lapis spa offers a quieter counterpoint, with extensive wet areas that feel genuinely removed from the spectacle outside.

Ivy creeps up the facade of this all-suite boutique hotel one block from the Santa Monica Pier, where every room faces the Pacific and comes stocked with Frette linens, local art, and a minibar that takes itself seriously. The courtyard pool, ringed with lemon trees and James Perse loungers, is the kind of spot that makes you cancel afternoon plans. Sandpiper, the open-air restaurant, leans into California seasonal cooking.

Five minutes from Reagan National and steps from the Pentagon City mall, this Ritz-Carlton pulls off the usual trick of making a business-travel corridor feel like somewhere you'd actually want to be. Rooms come with feather beds and Egyptian cotton linens, the club level adds its own quiet remove, and the on-site restaurant, Santé, runs a Mediterranean menu with a fireside lounge good for a post-flight drink.

Ecuadorian and Peruvian cooking meet in a North Miami restaurant where the room feels genuinely celebratory without trying too hard. Chef Alejandra Espinoza runs a menu that moves from coastal ceviches through braised stews and into cassava fritters, all of it vivid and warm in a way that matches the decor. A Michelin Selected restaurant that doesn't feel like it's holding its breath about it.

The bottle gourd for their signature lau chingri comes from the parking lot out back, which tells you most of what you need to know about this small Bangladeshi-Indian neighborhood eatery in Jersey City. The chef and her daughter run the room, the cooking is homestyle but precise, and the dish landed on a New York Times list of the year's best across the country. A James Beard semifinalist, and NJ.com's top-ranked restaurant in the state.

Floor-to-ceiling windows look out onto Lockerbie Square's old brick row houses while tasting menu courses arrive one by one to steal your attention back. Vida is fine dining, the kind where you're choosing between four and seven courses and the chef is assembling each plate like an argument. The team behind it has drawn two James Beard semifinalist nominations, and the room makes it easy to believe them.

Old wooden beams from the original building were milled into the chef's counter, which is where you want to sit at this New England French restaurant if you can get it. The menu runs refined and a little lusty at once, French technique laid over serious local sourcing. The New York Times and Esquire both noticed when it opened, and the room has been full ever since.

Caesar salad made tableside, prime rib carved from a rolling trolley: Daniel Boulud's French steakhouse in the Flatiron plays its classic moves with full confidence. Leather-paneled bar, walnut floors, soaring ceilings, and servers who materialize exactly when needed. The dry-aged beef comes off an oak wood grill, sauces are French, the Bordeaux list is long, and the expense accounts are ready. Ranked 34th on the World's Best Steak Restaurants list.

The red velvet booths are arranged in a circle so that everyone in this fine dining room can watch everyone else, which feels about right for Vegas. Carbone is the New York Italian-American institution transplanted to Aria, where tuxedoed captains serve dishes tableside with a theatricality that matches the decor. The menu leans into the classics hard, and putting yourself in the captain's hands is an option if the bill isn't a concern.

The Elysian Bar is a cocktail bar in the Marigny, tucked inside a converted church-turned-hotel, where the atrium bar is so relentlessly yellow it feels like a secret study belonging to a pipe-smoking baron. Cajun and Creole small plates, like focaccia with honey butter, keep company with a Hibiscus 75. It's elegant without being stiff, and it made Food & Wine's list of top hotel bars in the country.

The lobby reads less like a hotel and more like a country house that got very ambitious, with deep sitting areas, Regency columns, and ironwork that quietly signals this is not the Hampton Inn down the road. The Williamsburg Inn sits just across from Colonial Williamsburg's historic district, holds a Forbes Four Star, and connects via the back terrace to a full spa with indoor and outdoor pools. Comfortable, formal-ish, and unapologetically old-money in atmosphere.

Heirloom grains milled in-house show up across the menu at this new American restaurant on Rainey Street, which is exactly the kind of detail that sounds pretentious until you taste the cacio e pepe. The kitchen runs its own fermentation program and leans hard on Texas farms, so the menu stays tight and shifts with what's around. The patio fills fast and the dining room isn't far behind. It holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand.

Persimmon is an intimate American restaurant on Hope Street where the menu changes daily, so the website's answer to "what's for dinner?" is a shrug. The room is bright but cozy, and it fills with a cross-section of Providence, parents included, none of them there for the photos. It holds AAA Four Diamonds and was a James Beard semifinalist for Outstanding Hospitality. Dress like you're trying to impress someone.

The rib-eye comes with a lemongrass chimichurri, which tells you most of what you need to know about this Asian-inflected steakhouse in Wallingford. Rachel Yang, a James Beard nominee, and her partner built a menu where Pacific Northwest ingredients meet continental technique and a full sweep of Asian flavors. The room is big and buzzy without feeling generic. Scallion pancakes, black rice, grass-fed beef: the menu swings wide and lands consistently.

The restaurant is a Nobu partnership and the pool is lined with lava rock, but Sensei Lanai exists firmly in the wellness-resort category, not the beach-vacation one. Set upcountry on a quiet island, it trades ocean views for gardens, guided fitness, nutrition consultations, and the kind of sleep you forgot you could have. The rooms run spare in their design and lavish in everything else, which is more or less the whole philosophy.

A mushroom breakfast taco that Melissa Clark put on the New York Times list of best dishes eaten across the country in 2024 will tell you what kind of neighborhood restaurant this is. Ocotillo does scratch Tex-Mex in a city not especially known for it, and the housemade salsa macha alone justifies the detour. Brunch draws the loyal crowd, but the cooking has the kind of quiet confidence that makes you wonder what else you've been missing.

Cowhide armchairs in the lobby set the tone: this is a luxury hotel that committed to being Texan rather than just landing in Texas. Part of the Auberge Collection, Bowie House brings the brand's polished design sensibility to Fort Worth's Camp Bowie corridor, pairing it with local artwork and upscale Texan cooking. Rooms, suites, and the pool terrace all lean spectacular. The Michelin Guide awarded it 2 Keys.

Sharply dressed guests line up outside a Beaux-Arts building in Southside before the doors even open, which tells you something about how this place operates. Bottega is an upscale Italian-Mediterranean restaurant where dark wood walls and high ceilings set a polished tone, and the servers are warm enough to soften the formality. A Michelin Selected pick and a James Beard Nominee for Outstanding Hospitality, it's been the city's grown-up dining room for longer than anyone's counting.

The Indonesian rosewood dining room looks out at Central Park South like it was born to, which sets the tone for an upscale Italian seafood restaurant where the power-lunch crowd arrives knowing exactly what it costs to sit here. Crudo and handmade pasta anchor the menu, the kind of cooking that earns its address without making a fuss about it. Dress up; this is not a jeans situation.

A steakhouse a short walk from the State House, which tells you a lot about who's having lunch here. Mooo.... keeps a classic chophouse feel but updates it with a menu that ranges from standard prime cuts to Japanese A5 Wagyu, depending on how the negotiations went. The room is warm and polished, the service professional without being stiff, and the beef does most of the talking it needs to.

L'Ostrica is a Montford dinner spot with an open kitchen, polished concrete floors, and the sort of wood furniture that suggests someone had a plan. The menu is Mediterranean at heart, with Asian accents sneaking in, and Fridays and Saturdays bring a tasting menu. The wine list leans on grower Champagnes, so expect a room of people who have opinions about bubbles and a check to match.

Tangerine doors set into a 23-foot breeze block wall are your first clue that this Palm Springs resort operates on its own frequency. Jonathan Adler designed the interiors, so a suit of armor guards the lobby, groovy carpeting climbs the stairs, and eccentric glamour is the unifying theory. Lanai rooms, a pétanque court, and a hammock by the pool suggest a schedule built around doing very little with great commitment.

This is a Jean-Georges steakhouse at the Bellagio, and it looks more like a jeweler's showroom than a place to eat a cow, with velvet, crystal chandeliers, and a jewel-tone palette. Tables face the fountains, so the water show has a better seat than most people you know. The menu pairs Japanese and American beef with steakhouse classics, and the room fills with expense accounts and decanters of big red.

A bungalow tucked behind banana trees and bougainvillea on a residential street, Baby Bistro runs a menu so short that ordering the whole thing is the obvious move. Miles Thompson's modern American cooking shifts constantly, so whatever's on the night you go may be gone the next. The wine list stays under $100 a bottle, the room is small and lively, and the whole thing feels more like a dinner party than a restaurant.

Chicken and dumplings unveiled tableside is the move at this East Nashville restaurant built around Appalachian and Southern cooking. The share-plate menu leans seasonal but keeps a few old-school anchors no matter what, leaning into ingredients like benne seeds and paw paws in ways your grandmother probably didn't but might wish she had. The vibe is rustic and cozy, the kind of room that makes you want to become a regular on your first visit.

The original Art Deco bones of a 1920s Coca-Cola bottling plant are still very much the point here, with exposed industrial detail running through the rooms in the old wing alongside genuinely comfortable modern furniture. The newer addition trades some of the patina for polish, which is a fair swap. The surrounding development packs in coffee, a food hall, and enough going on that you could stay a long weekend without really needing to leave. Michelin awarded it one Key.

Nine rooms, suites, and cottages tucked into a Mediterranean Revival estate in Silver Lake that has, over the years, been a silent-film star's mansion, a girls' school, and a Franciscan convent. The interior designer who eventually bought it had a conventional boutique hotel in mind; the building had other plans. It holds a Michelin Key, and the rooms feel less like accommodations than borrowed sets from a film that never got made.

Floor-to-ceiling windows look out over a pond, which sets the mood before the tasting menu even begins. This is polished fine dining in Falls Church, the kind where the monthly French-inflected menu chases both the season and chef Bertrand Chemel's restless imagination. Five courses, and you choose at each one, with vegetarian and meat paths running in parallel. A James Beard Outstanding Restaurant semifinalist in 2024.

You will walk past it. That's by design. Apothecary is a dark, hushed cocktail lounge on Greenville where the seasonal menu gets a full thematic overhaul each year and bartenders can narrate the origin story of every pour from memory. The team spends months developing each recipe, and it shows. A James Beard Outstanding Bar Semifinalist, it draws the kind of crowd that actually reads the menu before ordering.

Jason Vincent's Logan Square neighborhood restaurant holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand and earned a James Beard nomination, which is a lot of hardware for a place that puts onion rings on the menu without irony. The room is modern-rustic and small, with a chef's counter in the back for anyone who wants to watch the kitchen work. The food is familiar American but tilted just enough to keep you guessing what you ordered.

Ten suites on a tree-lined street in downtown McMinnville, steps from boutiques and bakeries, with an organic farm supplying the kitchen. The Tributary is a Forbes Four Star boutique hotel that leans closer to an upscale inn than a grand resort, and deliberately so. The amenities list is short: a good book, a roaring fire, a deep bath. Wine-country excursions and hot air balloon rides can be arranged when the fireplace loses its pull.

Nine pools connected by a lazy river, a grotto bar you swim up to and order a mai tai while watching sports on TV, and a separate adults-only pool for those who did not come to Maui to dodge pool noodles. This sprawling Waldorf Astoria resort on the Wailea beachfront also runs seven restaurants and bars, a 40-treatment-room spa, outrigger canoe tours, and access to nearby golf and tennis.

A marble Thomas Jefferson presides over the Palm Court, which sets the tone for this grand Beaux Arts hotel a block from Virginia's state capitol. The rotunda's original Tiffany glass ceiling stops people mid-stride. Rooms lean residential and plush, and the whole place has a pleasantly odd streak, namely alligator motifs tucked into unexpected corners, a nod to the live ones that once shared the lobby.

The room where the Four Seasons once held court still has that same pull, now under Major Food Group, with tableside presentations arriving like small theatrical productions. The Grill is a fine dining steakhouse running an all-American menu of classics, the kind of place where the suits at the next table never glance at the prices. Grandiose is the right word, and the kitchen leans into it without apology.

The owner has competed in the U.S. Coffee Championships, which tells you something about how seriously this small local coffee shop chain takes a cappuccino. Three locations across Omaha roast their own beans in-house, and the pours are consistent enough that remote workers and afternoon meeting people have adopted them as a second office. The Home blend travels well if you want to keep the habit going at home.

Perched at the base of Camelback Mountain, this Scottsdale resort is less a renovation of the old Rat Pack haunt that once stood here than a complete reinvention, the original having been nearly leveled before the reboot. The result is a sleek, contemporary desert property where the mid-century glamour gets reimagined rather than preserved. It holds a Michelin Key, which in resort terms means the vibe and the views both earn their square footage.

A wood-fired hearth anchors this Gold Coast steakhouse, casting the kind of light that makes everyone look like they have somewhere more important to be later. Maple & Ash leans hard into the party-steakhouse genre, with deep leather couches, clubby music, and a photo booth tucked somewhere in the multilevel room. Dry-aged cuts come in generous portions, and the seafood menu holds its own. The bar is a Top 10 U.S. Nominee at the Spirited Awards.

The famed red door on Sixth Street opens into one of Cincinnati's most serious fine dining rooms, the kind where comfort food quietly arrives in formalwear. The kitchen has been around forever, occupying the old Maisonette address, and the pommes soufflées remain a knowing nod to that lineage. The menu moves between reliable classics and sharper seasonal swings, and dessert gets the same attention as everything before it.

The only all-local butcher case on O'ahu anchors this Kaimuki bakery and butcher shop, where the counter swings between venison chops and char siu croissants without missing a beat. House-made Spam shares space with liliko'i baklava danish, and the sandwich of the day rotates with whatever the butcher is working with. A James Beard Outstanding Bakery semifinalist, it's the rare spot where the lard in your almond cookie is a selling point, not a secret.

The parking lot reads like a car show, which tells you something about who comes to dinner in Del Mar. This is a sleek, dimly lit restaurant where the menu ranges from sushi to blue cheese soufflé with no apparent anxiety about that range. The chef leans into the contradiction, pulling from Europe and Asia with enough confidence that the international sprawl feels like a point of view rather than indecision.

A glass-and-marble box that practically dares the sky to blink first, Imperfecto is a modernist Latin American fine dining room where the counter seats directly under the chef's station feel like a restaurant folded inside another one. The menu works through Latin flavors with precise, elaborate technique, and a Michelin star backs the ambition. Bring patience, an appetite, and someone worth sitting across from for a long evening.

Beef short ribs draped in velvety curry and pakora-fried kale arranged like a bird's nest signal that this SoMa restaurant is doing something more deliberate with Indian cooking than most. The room is high-ceilinged, colorful, and clubby, with a roomy courtyard for when the weather cooperates and branded blankets for when it doesn't. Cocktails lean inventive, the menu is built for sharing, and the pricing reflects the ingredient quality.

A boutique hotel in a downtown Phoenix high-rise, which tells you something about how much the city center has changed lately. Rooms feel pulled together rather than chain-generic, and the location drops you into a neighborhood that has sprouted college campuses and light rail where there used to be very little reason to linger. A good base if you want Phoenix proper rather than a resort bubble somewhere out in the sprawl.

A mid-century chain hotel on Lady Bird Lake got the full renovation treatment, and the result is a boutique hotel that makes the retro bones look intentional. Architect Michael Hsu and designer Sean Knibb folded in industrial textures and quiet nods to Hill Country geology, so it reads as Austin rather than anywhere-with-a-lobby. The Michelin Guide selects it among its hotels, which is the kind of quiet endorsement that doesn't need a billboard.

A 32-story tower designed by Chicago firm bKL, Thompson Austin cuts a noticeable line into the downtown skyline just off the East Sixth Street strip. The hotel occupies the lower floors, so you get the address without the altitude, which is fine given what's walkable. Sleek without being cold, it's the kind of place that suits Austin's current chapter better than its old "keep it weird" bumper sticker ever did.

Adobe walls, lushly planted courtyards, and the Santa Catalina Mountains framing everything you look at: Hacienda del Sol is a historic guest ranch resort tucked into Tucson's foothills. The 34-acre property has been around forever, and the old-school architecture still holds the place together in a way no renovation could fake. Rooms are spread across the grounds, service runs unhurried, and the mountain views make the phone feel optional.

Scotch 80 Prime is the steakhouse at Palms, where the wagyu comes from specific farms across Japan and the chef knows which. It's pricier than a pizza night but gentler than the Strip's steakhouses, and happy hour knocks 30 percent off select steaks and garlicky ibérico lumpia. You can perch at the bar for beef sold by the ounce, or go all in on A5 striploin and see how much marbling a human can reasonably absorb.

Tyler Florence's steakhouse sits waterfront in the shadow of Chase Center, which sounds like a pre-game stop but is decidedly not. The marble-and-leather room leans into quiet glamour, the kind of place you'd actually dress for. Dry-aged steaks are seared to a deep mahogany, oysters come from a saltwater estuary in the kitchen, and tableside Caesar service arrives without irony. The World's 101 Best Steak Restaurants lists it at number twenty-five.

The dining room juts out from the Mt. Washington cliff face, so the three rivers appear to be directly below your table, which is a lot to process when you're deciding between apps. Altius is upscale American fine dining with portions that are, refreshingly, sized for actual humans. They seat you with warm popcorn before anything else, a small signal that the room won't make you feel guilty for enjoying yourself. AAA Four Diamonds.

Cowboy Star is a downtown steakhouse that goes all in on the Western set dressing, with cowhide chairs, a steer skull on the wall, and a door handle shaped like a giant spur. It holds an AAA Four Diamond rating, so the evening runs more tablecloth than saloon. Order a ribeye, but save room for the bronzed Parker House rolls, then talk yourself out of the mechanical bull nearby.

A stained glass window of, let's say, assertive subject matter sets the tone before you've ordered a thing. L'Opossum is a fine dining room where French technique meets full-on theatrical excess, the kind of place that serves lobster mac and cheese under a name like "swank bank" and wraps a cocktail in plastic like a certain *Twin Peaks* corpse. The bathroom is clowns. All of it is intentional, and somehow it holds together.

A converted ice skaters' warming hut on the edge of a Lincoln Park pond, with the Chicago skyline framing the water outside the windows. North Pond runs a tasting menu that moves with the seasons, the chef pulling in Latin and Asian influences alongside herbs from a rooftop garden overhead. The room is warm brick and candlelight, the kind of place that earns its romantic reputation without visibly trying.