The Best Places to Eat and Drink in the United States

Vertical spits of peppery, marinated meat looming behind the counter set the tone at this dark, industrial counter-service spot in Oakland. The shawarma comes wrapped in flour tortillas with a fierce, garlicky toum that means business. Named one of Esquire's Best New Restaurants in America, Shawarmaji has quietly shifted what Bay Area diners expect from a wrap. Order the chicken and ask for extra toum; you will not regret it.

The chalkboard specials change often enough that regulars check it before sitting down, which tells you most of what you need to know about Alewife. It's a modern seafood restaurant in Church Hill with a sustainable-catch ethos and cocktails that earn their own moment. Groups of four tend to anchor the table around the Siren Song, a lazy Susan of fresh catches built for sharing. Reservations are the move; this place stays busy.

Grab a tray, check the chalk board for today's proteins, and pick three sides: that's the whole system at this old-school Nashville meat-and-three. The turnip greens, studded with smoky pork, are the kind of thing that makes you wonder why you ever cook at home. The room fills fast with people who already know their order, and the line moves whether you're ready or not.

A short drive outside Santa Fe, Arroyo Vino is a contemporary American restaurant that keeps an onsite wine shop to back up its notably interesting wine list, which is one way to make sure the pours are never an afterthought. Half portions and shareable plates are the format, so grazing is encouraged rather than merely tolerated. The Mediterranean thread running through the menu is subtle enough that you might not notice it until you're halfway through something and oddly happy about fennel.

Walls hung with Calder and Warhol set the tone at this American restaurant and bar, where the design hovers somewhere between garish and glamorous and reservations disappear weeks out. If you didn't plan ahead, arrive before doors open and angle for a bar seat. A precisely made martini is the move, and the burger has earned its reputation as a signature. The Michelin Guide has it listed, and the crowd dresses accordingly.

On Telegraph Avenue's stretch of Ethiopian spots, Barcote holds its own with a menu that leans hard into layered spice work, the kind where berbere and mitmita do real work rather than decoration. It's a traditional Ethiopian restaurant, injera and communal platters, warm service, and a tree-shaded patio that slows everything down nicely. Come with time to spare and people to share with, because rushing through a spread this generous would be a waste.

Regulars who speak Italian with the owner and never bother with the menu fill the bar at this cozy Rockridge enoteca. The kitchen leans into Piemonte, which means brasato over polenta and house-made pastas that are the main event. The tortino, a spinach flan with egg yolk and truffle, is the kind of quiet overachiever that makes you ignore everything else you ordered.

Inside the Neue Galerie on Museum Mile, this Viennese kaffeehaus occupies a dark-paneled room upholstered in Otto Wagner fabric, which sets the tone quickly. The cafe serves schnitzel and goulash, but the cakes are the real argument for coming: Sachertorte, Linzer torte, and a chocolate mousse number with far more going on than the name suggests. The crowd tends toward the museum-going and the unhurried, which fits the pace of the place perfectly.

A man in a tuxedo greets you at the door, which tells you most of what you need to know. Clancy's is an old-school fine dining room in Uptown New Orleans, white tablecloths and uniformed servers included, with a Creole menu that leans hard into seafood, French technique, and Cajun flavor. The fried oysters with brie have been a house signature long enough that regulars would riot if they disappeared.

The bar at this Mexican restaurant mills heirloom corn daily for its tortillas, which tells you something about the priorities. Chef Danny Mena, Mexico City-born and a mezcal producer himself, keeps a serious agave spirits collection behind a gorgeous counter worth sitting at. Tostadas, taquitos, and seasonal tacos fill out the menu with the kind of street food logic that makes you order more than you planned.

Cooter Brown's is a sprawling Carrollton beer bar where the tap list runs long enough to need a study guide, and the game is always on somewhere. There's a front bar for cocktails, a back bar for local experimental pours, and an oyster counter for people who ordered beer and then had ideas. Boudin balls and shots keep things moving. It's been the place to gather a group for a very long time.

A food truck in East Austin with a menu so focused the only real question is how many you want. Discada is a Northern Mexican cooking style, beef and pork cuts cooked down together with aromatic vegetables, bacon, onion, and roasted poblano, then served in yellow corn tortillas with pineapple slaw and fresh salsa. Elote and soft drinks round out the whole operation. The New York Times named it among Austin's top 25 restaurants, which is a sentence that earns its absurdity.

A standing sushi counter from the team behind Tori Tori and Domu, which tells you the pedigree before you've touched a piece of nigiri. You book a time slot, you show up on time, and you pick a dozen pieces from a tight edit of nigiri, seared nigiri, and hand rolls. The miso soup comes from the day's bones and trimmings, which is a nice way to close a meal that moves quickly by design.

The injera here has the kind of springy, tangy pull that makes you wonder why you'd use a fork anywhere else. Ethiopic is a full-service Ethiopian restaurant on a lively stretch of H Street, with a polished dining room that drew a New York Times nod for the D.C. area. Doro wat, tibs, and honey wine are the move, shared over injera with a group who all insisted on picking the spot.

Flowers of Vietnam is a modern Vietnamese restaurant and bar in Southwest Detroit, where the egg cream coffee arrives hot under a thick, eggy froth that somehow counts as both dessert and a personality. Caramel chicken wings, papaya salad, and a well-run cocktail list keep tables of friends lingering. Bon Appétit once put it on its list of America's Best New Restaurants. Reservations live on Tock.

A bright pink entrance fronted by a waterfall does most of the first-impression work here, which is fortunate, because Richard Blais's coastal New American restaurant inside the Hyatt Regency Grand Cypress has a lot to live up to. Warm wood, big windows, and tropical color keep the room unhurried. The menu leans into that mood, mixing seasonal American cooking with tropics-leaning flavors in ways that read as festive without tipping into theme-park territory.

A heated patio and a buzzing dining room on Berkeley's Fourth Street, where Japanese technique meets Northern California produce in small plates built for sharing. The chef comes from Japan's Tohoku region, where winters demand serious comfort food, and that instinct carries through a menu that rotates with the season. The Michelin Guide has it selected. Sake, local wine, and creative cocktails all hold their own on the drinks list.

Signed photos of jockeys and Louisville sportsmen cover the walls at this old-school bistro on Bardstown Road, which has been a neighborhood institution long enough that the regulars probably knew Jack himself. The kitchen leans Southern with French moves, so expect grits alongside cream sauces and the occasional saltimbocca. A band plays midweek, giving the room a warmth that keeps people from leaving at a decent hour.

Servers roam the floor with hot coffee and donut holes before you've even ordered, which tells you everything about what kind of diner Lou Mitchell's is. Booths, counter stools, eggs cooked every way imaginable, and an open-faced Reuben on homemade rye that has anchored many a morning near Union Station. An old-school Chicago institution that has never once tried to be anything else.

The dining room at this fine dining restaurant sits inside a landmark Austin estate, all green and gold with windows opening onto a fountain garden that makes you feel like someone's very wealthy aunt has invited you to dinner. The kitchen takes Texas heritage cooking seriously enough to maintain a decades-old bread starter, and the seasonal tasting menu moves between refined and genuinely rooted. The Michelin Guide has it selected.

The dining room occupies the restored Marcel Breuer building that once held the Whitney Museum, and the walnut paneling and candlelight make you feel like someone finally figured out what to do with the space. This is a French café and brasserie from the team behind La Mercerie, with omelets, steak au poivre, escargots, and madeleines warm enough to make Proust feel vindicated. Very Upper East Side, in all the ways you'd expect.

Pillowy housemade flour tortillas wrapped around smoked meats are the whole argument here. Matt Vicedomini built his name on Texas-style barbecue, and Texas Monthly noticed, but this casual taco counter is where that smoked-meat skill gets genuinely interesting. Pork belly with guacamole and pickled onions, brisket in the breakfast tacos available all day, smoked mushroom fajitas for the non-meat crowd. Bon Appétit named it one of America's Best New Restaurants.

Haunches of jamón serrano hang above the bar, which tells you everything about the room before you've ordered a thing. Morcilla is a Spanish taverna in Lawrenceville where the move is to order widely from the small plates menu, pour into sherry from Valencia, and let the table get a little crowded. Housemade charcuterie anchors the whole operation, and montaditos, charred octopus, and rich liver mousse keep things interesting between sips.

Fish from Tokyo's Toyosu market, cured and aged using Edomae techniques, is the whole point of this intimate omakase counter, where three chefs handle just twelve seats at a time. The chef adjusts each guest's rice portion and wasabi individually, which sounds fussy until you realize how much it changes things. An old-school sushi bar that takes itself seriously, without taking the fun out of the room.

Pork and duck puffs shaped like little black swans are the opening move at this upscale dim sum house inside Ghirardelli Square, where the room earns its own attention with colored lanterns, tiled murals, and candle tea warmers. Classics come with upgrades: lobster where shrimp usually goes, squid ink in the fried rice. The bay-facing patio fills up fast on Sunday mornings with people who planned ahead, and a few who got lucky.

Each diner sets a price point on a sliding scale before the meal, and the kitchen builds the omakase around that number. Robin is a contemporary sushi counter where no two menus look quite alike, the team riffing freely across Japanese technique and global flavors: Spanish mackerel with poblano chile oil, king salmon with whipped tofu and Thai basil. It earned a spot on Bon Appétit's Best New Restaurants list and has stayed a fixture on best-sushi roundups ever since.

Wood-fired pizza out of a small takeout window in the Cargo District, where the line forms before you've decided what to order. Salita keeps a focused menu of Neapolitan-style pies, with soft-serve to finish, but the real cult object is the Montreal-style wood-fired bagel, offered some weekends only and gone well before closing. Follow them on social or you'll miss it entirely and spend the walk home in quiet anguish.

A slender Fillmore Street room where skylights and an open kitchen keep things bright despite how tightly packed the tables run. SPQR is a fine dining Italian with a California accent, meaning the handmade pastas get dyed with squid ink and cocoa and the menu shifts with whatever the season is showing off. Chef Matthew Accarrino has been here long enough that regulars treat the bartender like an old friend on reunion night.

Staplehouse is a seasonal tasting menu restaurant on Edgewood Avenue with a genuinely unusual backstory: it's tied to the Giving Kitchen, a nonprofit that provides emergency grants to Atlanta restaurant workers in need. The menu runs to delicate, ingredient-forward plates, with à la carte dishes like Grandma Lillian's potato bread filling out the edges. The room feels like a neighborhood spot that somehow got very serious about dinner without losing the warmth.

The garlic and oregano hit you through the door before you've even reached for the handle. Stella's is a Greek neighborhood restaurant run by the same family for years, the kind of place where the table fills up fast with flaky tiropita and saganaki flaming tableside. The braised lamb and artichoke moussaka are built for sharing, and the portions make sure nobody goes home arguing about it.

Ceiling lamps made from sticky rice baskets set the tone before you even sit down at one of the communal low tables. This casual Laotian-Thai cafe on East Colonial serves a compact menu of street food, the kind of place where the room is louder than the decor suggests it should be. The purple sticky rice with coconut sauce and mango is the dish the name is making a promise about. Selected by the Michelin Guide.

The covered patio fills up fast on weekends, which tells you everything about how West Asheville feels about this neighborhood breakfast and brunch cafe. Everything comes from scratch, the sourcing leans local, and the menu runs until mid-afternoon for anyone who needs a slower start. Rabbit Hole bakery sits just across the way if you need something for the road. The Michelin Guide has it listed among their selected restaurants.

A Lebanese restaurant in Fishtown that opens as a bakery and shop before expanding into a full dining room and a generous rear garden. The menu runs from man'oushe and mezze at lunch to grilled whole poussin and kibbeh at dinner, with a tasting spread if the menu feels ambitious. The pita comes warm from the oven, which sounds minor until it arrives and suddenly isn't. A Michelin selected spot.

An L-shaped cypress wood bar in a quiet corner of downtown Redwood City, with the chef's knife work on full display throughout a two-and-a-half-hour Edomae-style omakase. The meal moves through small plates before reaching the nigiri, and the sourcing leans seasonal and obscure enough that hairy crab and Japanese halfbeak appear without apology. Dinner offers a premium tier for rarer finds; lunch runs a shorter version for the sensible.

Eight seats, weekends only, two seatings a night: Sushi Sonagi runs on its own terms, and regulars plan weeks out to keep them. The omakase here comes from a second-generation sushi chef working a deeply personal menu, where female snow crab arrives in a stone pot, gets pressed into a crispy crust at the table, and then disappears fast. The Michelin Guide has had its eye on this Gardena counter, and the room fills accordingly.

A vintage diner shell hiding a modern New American kitchen, The Admiral in West Asheville runs rotating blue plate specials alongside small plates that take unexpected turns. The menu has enough classic steak-and-sauce comfort to keep one person happy while the person across the table orders something they'll be talking about on the drive home. The Michelin Guide has it on their radar.

Ford Fry's seafood restaurant exists as a quiet rebuke to Atlanta's landlocked reality. The room has the feel of an oyster bar and a classic fish house that figured out how to share a cool loft, and the kitchen leans into both, running whole roasted shrimp alongside delicate flounder dressed in lobster butter. Parker House rolls arrive hot, and the menu wanders just enough to keep things interesting.

The brass pineapple door handle is not subtle, but this lakeside American restaurant earns the bit. Inside, plush booths and tufted leather banquettes set a warm, unhurried tone, and the menu leans into local produce without making a fuss about it. Outside, a fire pit sits alongside tables that catch Lake Ivanhoe sunsets at their most cooperative. The neighborhood's old pineapple-farming past explains the name, if you were wondering.

The wood-fired grill anchors an industrial room of concrete and steel that somehow reads as warm rather than cold. Trust is a small-plates American restaurant in Hillcrest where the menu is built for sharing, and the expansive patio fills fast on San Diego's many fair-weather days. The kitchen runs from hush puppies with whipped honey butter to braised oxtail raviolini, and the milk and cookies pie has its own loyal following.

A Center City brownstone that's been quietly making the case for vegan fine dining from its spot on Locust Street. Inside, the space unfolds across several rooms with the feeling of a very elegant townhouse, warm lighting and all. The plant-based menu leans into seasonal ingredients and international flavors, so dishes arrive with a sharpness that gives the table something to argue over. Seasonal cocktails and attentive service round out what amounts to a full night.

The surprise here is that "farm-to-table in the desert" is less a marketing line than a geography lesson: the Coachella Valley is one of the country's most productive agricultural corridors, and this modernist New American restaurant sources accordingly, down to a dedicated garden in Rancho Mirage. The space itself is a polished-concrete interior tucked inside an old Spanish-style building, with a mist-cooled courtyard out back. The bar program runs to house-made ginger beer.

Udon and only udon, pulled fresh from the steel extruder in thick, flour-dusted strands that turn slippery and just barely chewy once boiled. This compact Cambridge noodle shop has kept its menu narrow on purpose, offering hot or cold, spicy or not, each bowl built on dashi broth with beef, scallions, and tempura bits. It landed on Bon Appétit's Best New Restaurants list and has since expanded, but the logic of the place hasn't changed.

Five varieties of mole anchor the menu at this Oaxacan restaurant in Sunnyslope, where a string-lit patio softens the strip-mall surroundings considerably. The cocktail list leans heavily on mezcal, with rare agave spirits showing up across most of the drinks. Phoenix New Times named it the city's top Oaxacan restaurant, and the mole negro has a following of its own.

The chef comes from a line of Italian bakers, and the pizza crust at this Peoria trattoria and pizzeria makes that lineage hard to miss, with blistered char and a chew that most Phoenix spots across town can't match. The menu runs well past pizza, into house-made porchetta, light gnocchi with cheese-heavy sauces, and fresh stuffed pastas. For a neighborhood that usually gets everyone else's leftovers, this one was built here from scratch.

The sushi counter is the point here, not the parade of sauce-heavy rolls that crowds the competition. This upscale Chandler sushi restaurant leans traditional, pulling in harder-to-find cuts like escolar and sea urchin alongside the usual nigiri and sashimi spread. A few hot dishes and tempura round things out, but the kitchen knows where its priorities lie. Phoenix New Times has named it the area's top Japanese restaurant.

Caipirinhas built from fresh sugar-cane juice anchor this small Brazilian bar and kitchen in Adams Morgan, where a vinyl soundtrack keeps the room at a low simmer all night. The open kitchen sends out charcoal-oven dishes and fried tapioca squares with spicy guava sauce that Washingtonian singled out as a favorite dish of the year. A James Beard semifinalist for Best New Bar, it draws the kind of crowd that skips the menu on the second visit.

The Cuban bread comes from La Segunda Bakery in Tampa, shipped in specifically to get the crust right on the sandwiches. This is a Cuban restaurant where the team cooks from scratch the way they did back home, and that intention shows up in the ropa vieja and the arroz con pollo as much as the pressed sandwiches. The flan is the quiet closer nobody skips.

The pilau arrives under a dome of golden filo you crack open at the table, releasing fragrant basmati with almonds and pistachios underneath. Sultan is a Mediterranean restaurant in the Grove neighborhood serving a menu that runs from lentil soup and beef dumplings with garlic yogurt to kabobs. The room filled up fast when it opened and has stayed that way, which in a neighborhood already stacked with good options is its own kind of argument.

The dining room runs turquoise, pink, and lemon yellow, which tells you something about the spirit of this vegetarian restaurant in the Golden Triangle. The menu reads simply but the plates arrive complex, the kitchen finding real depth in seasonal produce without announcing the effort. Zero-proof cocktails get the same careful treatment as the wine list, which leans biodynamic. A weeknight tasting menu keeps the tab surprisingly manageable.

An emerald-green bar anchors this clubby Roman-inspired dining room in downtown Bethesda, the kind of place where an Aperol spritz arrives before you've settled into your seat. The chef behind D.C.'s Red Hen runs the kitchen, and pasta is the main event, though the snacky bar bites and a lunchtime cheeseburger that has no business being this good keep things interesting. Upscale Italian without the starch.

Craft Pita is a counter-service Lebanese spot where you order at the register, which is why the olive oil from the chef's family back in Lebanon feels like a flex. Hummus comes out velvety, the tacos wear a layer of fries like it's perfectly normal, and portions run generous at prices that don't sting. Dessert is stretchy booza, the kind of ice cream you have to negotiate with. Turkish coffee is strong, and so are the Lebanese wines.

A small Annapolis dining room built around pickling and fermentation, which sounds like a thesis until the food arrives. The roast chicken is beautifully bronzed, the steak-frites comes with kimchi-beef jus, and the crab salad on hash browns is the kind of thing that makes you forgive everyone their restaurant concepts. The bar earns equal attention. A Washingtonian top-100 pick.

A casual BYOB in Bella Vista where the adobo arrives as braised chicken in waves of vinegar and deep umami, and people tend to remember it. The Caesar gets a hit of bagoong, the fermented fish paste that makes a Filipino pantry tick, and the broccoli rabe nods to the South Philly block it sits on. Bring a bottle, bring a friend who wants to share everything, and leave the menu nowhere near unfinished.

The signature dish here is called the Whole Beast, built from leftover proteins, noodles, and produce so that nothing walks out the back door. The Heritage Table is an innovative restaurant where the chef, a James Beard semifinalist, runs the kitchen around whole-animal and whole-vegetable thinking. Saturday evenings bring a tasting menu sourced entirely from the Blackland Prairie, reservation required, which tells you the room takes itself seriously without being smug about it.

Taxidermy on the walls, an Art Deco bar, and big comfy booths: Sportsman's Club is a neighborhood tavern that looks like it's been on Western Ave forever but drinks like something that arrived much more recently. The rotating menu leans spirit-forward and serious, even if the vibe emphatically does not. It's the kind of place that made this particular Chicago formula feel worth copying.

A pastrami-forward deli on Folsom where the menu reads like a roster of characters named by someone's uncle in Canarsie. The Menschkowitz throws cherry peppers into the mix; the BK goes full diner breakfast between two slices of bread. Everything arrives with thick pickles on the side, which is the correct move. Sandwiches aren't cheap, and it's takeout only, so plan accordingly.

A sandwich counter in NoPa where modifications are not on the menu, full stop. The team builds everything with enough conviction that you'll forget you wanted to swap something out, and condiments like bagna cauda mayo and artichoke cream cheese make clear this is not a cold-cuts-and-mustard situation. The shop is takeout only, but Alamo Square Park is a short walk, which is either a feature or a hint to leave promptly.

The namesake suya, smoky grilled meat with West African roots, gives this Roxbury restaurant its name and its personality. The menu runs from whole-fried snapper to okra soup with fufu to a peanut stew regulars quietly reorder every visit. The chef earned a James Beard semifinalist nod in 2024, which tracks for a neighborhood spot that has no business being this good and knows it.

Six food stalls share a refugee community center in Aurora, and the hours are loose enough that showing up with a plan is a mistake. On a good day you might land Burmese curry, Haitian fritters, Ethiopian doro wot, and Sudanese semolina cake in a single tray-juggling loop. The room is a folding-chair situation, not a date-night situation, but the cooking makes a strong case for itself regardless.

Loba is a minimalist coffee shop and small-batch bakery where the ovens sit behind a window, so you can watch your white chocolate curry scone's origin story. The menu rotates, the hours are short, and the seating is limited, so weekend crowds line up early to beat the sellouts. It was a James Beard semifinalist for Outstanding Bakery. Come early, order boldly, and accept that the pineapple sourdough muffin may already be a memory.

A vintage Pizza Hut lamp hangs in the dining room, which tells you almost everything about the tone. This Italian restaurant in Wash Park comes from the team behind Dio Mio and Redeemer Pizza, and the menu reads like people who take craft seriously decided to stop pretending they don't also love a good bit. Red sauce shares space with squid ink fettuccine, seasonal crudo, and pizzas topped with sour cream-and-onion dip.

A walk-up burger stand on Navigation that grew out of years of pop-ups, Boo's is the kind of place where the menu fits on a napkin and that's the whole point. The smashburger comes on a challah bun from Cake & Bacon, topped with shredded lettuce, tomato, shaved onion, and a smoky house sauce that regulars already treat as non-negotiable. Crispy fries, bottled sodas, and a colorful roadside aesthetic round it out.

By day it's a sausage shop slinging serious sandwiches; by night, tables get jammed into every corner of the meat case and a monthly five-course dinner runs to monkfish, duck-stuffed peppers, and scallops with corn polenta, all with punk on the speakers. A James Beard semifinalist and a Bon Appétit pick for best new restaurant, it's the kind of place Philadelphia gets very right and nowhere else quite explains.

Fresh pasta lines the shelves at this Mission storefront, the casual offshoot of the Flour + Water restaurant around the corner, but the sandwiches are the reason to pull up a stool at lunch. The cured meat option layers mortadella, salami, and provolone against a sharp pepper relish and a hit of red wine vinegar. The eggplant parm, bolstered by kale pesto and burrata, is the kind of thing you think about on the walk home.

Avgolemono on a menu full of green chile cheese fries and omelets sets the tone at this neighborhood diner tucked onto a quiet, tree-shaded block just off Colfax. Chef Zorba's has been around forever, and the regulars who walk over from Congress Park carry themselves like they've never needed to look at the menu. Westword handed it Best Soup for a Hangover, which is either high praise or a very specific clientele study.

A small Uptown sandwich shop where the menu is short and the pork is the whole argument. The porchetta here comes out of the oven crackling-crisp on the outside and genuinely juicy inside, piled onto ciabatta with arugula and a pink peppercorn Kewpie mayo. The room is tight, the menu is tight, and the cravings that follow are not. A counter-service spot that keeps it simple and lets the roast pork do the talking.

Murals cover the walls of this Whittier neighborhood taco spot, and the name delivers exactly the disclaimer it promises: yes, tacos, but also slow-braised rabbit barbacoa in mole over heirloom masa, and beef cheeks in pasilla negro adobo with handmade tortillas. The chef has a Food Network face and the kitchen to back it up. Named one of Denver's 25 best restaurants by 5280, it's the kind of Mexican place that makes ordering feel like a commitment.

The amber glow through the windows at night is the first thing you notice, and then all the people inside, clearly mid-splendid-time. This is a neighborhood restaurant done with genuine ambition, the kind where the cowboy rib-eye with cracked pepper butter sits on the same menu as Dover sole and creative cocktails. Webster Groves is a quick drive from the city, and regulars treat it like their dining room, which is a compliment to everyone.