The Best Places in the United States

Pizza Matta is a small Logan Square pizzeria from the team behind Giant and Chef's Special, which tells you the people running it have opinions about pie. You build your own 16-inch pizza from red, white, or green sauce, then pile on things like mortadella or caramelized pineapple, no judgment. Seating is limited, so order online and take the whole project home. Eater has it on its list of Chicago's tavern-style thin-crust spots.

The crusts here crack audibly when you bite into them, which sounds like a small thing until you're at a table in Windsor wondering why most pizza doesn't do that. Pizzaleah is a NY-style slice shop where Leah Scurto handles the dough personally, and the brick oven leaves a char on the underside that keeps everything from going soft. The San Francisco Chronicle named it one of Sonoma County's best restaurants. Hot honey and Calabrian chile pies share the menu with the unironic classics.

Neapolitan-style pizzeria next door to the famously pricey Frasca, which tells you something about the neighborhood and also about the price gap. The pies have that crusty-chewy pull that Naples devotees argue about endlessly, and the butterscotch budino has built a quiet cult of its own. The wine list leans Southern Italy, the salads are more elegant than a pizza place has any business offering, and the garlic knots make a strong case for skipping the entree entirely.

The banana pudding has its own billing, which tells you something about the confidence level at this old-school Houston barbecue joint. Brisket shows up in everything from enchiladas to queso to mac and cheese, which is either inspired or a hint that someone really, really loves brisket. The room has been around forever, passed through several hands, and still draws the kind of crowd that doesn't need to see a menu.

An ice cream brand built around the flavors of the African diaspora, PLK1848 sells its pints online with pickup in the Heights, the address arriving by email after you order. The caramel Buckshot comes loaded with Ethiopian praline and chocolate stracciatella; the Zobo hibiscus sorbet pulls from West African tradition. Every pint doubles as a history lesson, which is a thing you can say about very few freezer items.

A portrait of an imperial bulldog greets you at the door, which is a fair warning. Pony Up is a cocktail bar in LoDo that earns its personality through drinks like a tequila-shochu-sherry situation spiked with Korean chili paste, and shots of George Dickel chased with roast-beef jus. That jus comes from the kitchen, which runs French dips as its signature, an odd pairing that somehow makes complete sense by the second round.

Potente is a fine-dining Italian restaurant across the street from the ballpark, which means the bar fills with people in jerseys making a plan for the evening. The spaghetti al tartufo gets its truffles shaved over the plate right at your table, a bit of theater that suits a place owned by the Astros guy. Expect linen-adjacent prices and a dress code of whatever you wore to the game, within reason.

The gripmen still turn these cars by hand at the turntable, which is the whole point. The Powell-Hyde line is the last manually operated cable car system anywhere, and riding it feels less like transit and more like clinging to a slowly tilting porch. Standing on the running board while the car crests a hill makes a strong case for handrails. Most riders are tourists, which you also are, so just lean into it.

Prep & Pastry is a sunny, white-washed brunch spot near Fashion Square, the Scottsdale outpost of a Tucson original, with a menu that runs to dossants, which are exactly what they sound like. Expect a cast iron duck confit, a chickpea scramble, and a Monte Cristo built on herb brioche French toast with pineapple and jalapeño mascarpone. It opens at 8 a.m. daily, and Eater has put it on a list of Phoenix brunches.

A former Army post turned National Park, the Presidio is the kind of place where eucalyptus groves give way to cliffside overlooks, historic bunkers, and a walk along Crissy Field that ends directly beneath the Golden Gate Bridge. Andy Goldsworthy's natural installations are scattered throughout, the Tunnel Tops park has lawns and food trucks for easy afternoons, and the Tennessee Hollow Trail winds through a restored wetlands thick with birds.

Prime 131 is a moody Timbergrove steakhouse where four wood-fired grills sit in the middle of the dining room, so your dinner gets cooked in front of you like a very confident science fair. You pick the cut and the wood, post oak, bourbon, or pecan, and the check will reflect those decisions. Dessert comes with theatrics, including a Basque cheesecake delivered tableside in curls of smoke.

Professor Pizza is a casual West Town pizzeria run by a competitive pizza maker, which means the pies come with a résumé. The tavern-style thin crust cuts to cracker-snap, and the deluxe pepperoni gets hot honey and whipped ricotta, as if the sausage needed a little more going on. The Grand Avenue spot adds two more pie styles, and the pizzas turn up backstage at comedy clubs around town. Eater includes it among Chicago's best tavern-style thin-crust spots.

Complimentary valet parking at a Greek taverna in Lincolnwood is either a punchline or a promise, and Psistaria delivers on both. White tablecloths and a long menu of Mediterranean staples, from saganaki and gyros to grilled octopus and broiled whole fish, make it the kind of place that works for a birthday or a Tuesday. The wine list leans heavily Greek, the ouzo flows, and the servers know the menu well enough that you don't have to.

Pueblo Nuevo is a casual Portage Park spot built around Mexican street food, where the pambazo, a soft roll dunked in red guajillo sauce and stuffed with fried potato, is the kind of sandwich that ends any argument about whether bread can be a main character. The pozole runs green, made with tomatillos and chicken, and you set the heat yourself. Eater put it on its list of Chicago's best Mexican restaurants.

The back room contains a garden, a small bookstore, and a podcast studio, which tells you nearly everything about Queeny's vibe before you've even ordered. It's a casual sandwich and drinks spot in downtown Durham, the kind of place that stays open when everywhere else has called it a night. The birria French dip and a pork chop-banh mi hybrid keep regulars coming back, and the cocktail list is blessedly short and unfussy.

A glass case of house-made jalebi, burfi, and laddoo greets you before you've even found a seat at this old-school Indian sweets shop and snack counter in the Gandhi District. Samosas, pakora, and pani puri share the menu with full curry and tandoori service at lunch and dinner, though most people never make it past the front counter, which is arguably the whole point.

The giant rooftop donut made Randy's a Los Angeles landmark long before the chain showed up in the Valley, and the Gilbert shop carries the same energy: a bright display case packed with vivid, glazed options and a drive-thru line that moves faster than you'd expect. It's a classic donut shop, which means cheap, cheerful, and open early. The maple cake and cinnamon crumb cake are the regulars' picks, but the matcha raised donut is hard to walk past.

A no-frills counter in the ground floor of the Central Building that's been scooping rice bowls since before poke was a personality type. Red Bowls runs nearly 50 variations, from eight styles of bibimbap to bulgogi, fish, tempura, and vegetarian options, all piled high and served fast. No website, no fuss, and a line that moves. Seattle Met named it one of the city's top lunch spots, which tracks.

Fútbol scarves and pennants cover the walls at this family-run counter spot in a Boulder strip mall, where the empanadas come stuffed with steak and olives or mozzarella and tomato. The choripán with chimichurri is the other reason to go. They pour yerba mate, post soccer match times on Instagram, and the whole thing reads less like a restaurant than someone's living room that happens to sell food.

The bread here goes out every morning to restaurant kitchens across Greenville before most people are awake. Rise is a West Greenville bakery where lacquered croissants and cardamom buns share the case with country loaves built for serious sandwiches. Lunch brings hot and cold options, Instagram stories flag the week's featured pastries, and the holiday lineup, king cakes, hot cross buns, galette des rois, suggests the team has a thing for occasions.

The sauce arrives on the side at this Houston barbecue joint, which tells you something about the confidence in the pit. Brisket, jalapeño cheddar sausage, and smoked turkey anchor the menu, but a "Something Different" section runs brisket mac and cheese and loaded fries that could pass for a full meal. The rotating sandwich specials are worth checking before you order anything else, especially the pastrami Reuben.

Four drink menus sorted into categories like "Underappreciated & Misunderstood" and "Rustic & Complex" tell you exactly what kind of wine bar this is. Root & Flower is a cozy, chic spot tucked in Vail Village where fifty wines pour by the glass and the tapas menu is substantial enough to skip a proper dinner after a day on the mountain. Walk-ins welcome, though groups of four or more should book through Resy.

Susan Spicer's Mid City neighborhood restaurant is the kind of place where the shrimp creole does all the talking. A casual Cajun and Creole spot, Rosedale keeps the cooking steeped in New Orleans tradition without any of the ceremony that follows a celebrated chef around town. The room is low-key, the food is direct, and the whole operation runs like it was built for the people on the block, not the people writing about it.

Rosemarie's is a casual beach-town burger and beer joint on Coast Highway, the kind of place where flip-flops count as dressing up. The wings are fried in duck fat and come in flavors like honey buffalo with ranch zig-zags and blue cheese crumbles, teriyaki, and mango habanero. Eater listed them among San Diego's best chicken wings. A dozen runs under twenty bucks, and the draft list rotates, so the pairing tends to sort itself out.

Rubi's Tacos is a Pilsen taqueria that started as a stall at Maxwell Street Market and kept the market's sense of urgency. Tortillas come in blue, yellow, or nopal and are made to order, which is why a line forms and nobody complains about it. Guisados run from beef tongue to chicharrón to zucchini blossom, so vegetarians and the tongue-curious both get fed. Expect cheap, fast, and no dress code beyond pants.

Moroccan tile, velvet banquettes, and flickering lanterns set the scene in a former speakeasy beneath the Marrakech hotel. Mentalist and magician Jay Alexander runs weekend-only shows in the 35-seat theater, blending mind-reading, human lie detector bits, and sleight-of-hand with enough comedy to keep the skeptics from squirming. The evening opens with close-up magic over drinks before moving into the main show, which is as interactive as it sounds.

The Snøhetta-designed expansion gave SFMOMA a half-block-long living wall of native plants and a rippling fiberglass facade meant to echo the Bay, so the building makes an argument before you're even inside. The modern and contemporary collection runs deep, and the museum store is genuinely its own destination, stocked with San Francisco landmark chess pieces and Lichtenstein-inspired ceramics. Clear a full day.