The Best Places in the United States

Two early-1900s buildings on Washington Street house this 242-room hotel, the interiors dressed in mid-century neutrals with orange accents, which is a more interesting answer to Boston's past than a tricorn hat. The Godfrey sits in a city where the hotels tend toward the historic and the hushed, and it leans into that without being stuffy about it. Staff who take your comfort seriously, in the old-school sense of the phrase.

The building has been housing itinerant strangers since the 1800s, first as a sailors' hostel, now as a low-budget boutique hotel in Chinatown. Rooms range from hostel-style bunks to private en-suites, so the price you pay shapes the experience considerably. The café and bar runs all-day breakfast and light fare, and a rooftop deck is rarer here than you'd think. Close to the river and just north of downtown, it makes a practical base for the rest of Portland.

Five restored buildings, three rowhouses and two carriage houses, connected by a palmetto-shaded courtyard in the Ansonborough district. Zero George is an eighteen-room boutique hotel whose address, technically zero, sounds like a clerical error until you're standing in it. The oak trees on the block are as old and composed as the architecture, which gives the whole place a quietly theatrical sense of having arrived somewhere specific.

Raku is a Japanese izakaya in a Spring Mountain Road strip mall, where binchotan charcoal and condiments come straight from Japan and the robata grill does the heavy lifting. It stays open until 1am, so the late tables fill with chefs and hospitality workers who have just finished feeding everyone else. The omakase needs a call a few days ahead, and the sake list is long enough to count as a second menu.

Vintage Vegas glamour gets a quiet update at this steakhouse inside the Circa Resort, where the chef behind Scotch 80 Prime brings a recognizable hand to the Downtown corridor. The menu runs classic prime cuts but keeps slipping in detours: lobster and shrimp potstickers, short rib with harissa, tater tots finished with poutine gravy. The crowd skews loyal, the kind who followed the chef here from his last room and haven't opened the menu in months.

Kurdish restaurant on Nolensville Pike, in the Nashville neighborhood that holds the country's largest Kurdish population, so the room knows what it's doing. Lavash comes out of the oven puffed with hot air, sesame seeds still warm, and the lamb stew arrives in its clay pot. The New York Times put it on their 2024 Restaurant List. Come with people, order more than you think you need, and plan on finishing it anyway.

Through a glass partition, you can watch the dumpling-rolling operation in full swing before you've even ordered, which makes restraint basically impossible. This bright Outer Sunset shop does stuffed dumplings, cold small plates, and a beef noodle soup so deeply flavored it reads as a direct rebuttal to the neighborhood fog. The New York Times put it on their San Francisco list, and the pig-ear salad alone will make you rethink your dumpling-only strategy.

The dough here sits somewhere between New York and New Haven, fermented with a sourdough-and-commercial-yeast blend that produces a crust that shatters at the edge and stays open and airy inside. This is a pizza shop in the Lower Haight, and it's one of the tougher reservations in the city right now. On Tuesdays the kitchen roasts a half chicken that the New York Times found worth mentioning in the same breath as Zuni Café.

Farmers and foragers sometimes drop by mid-service with morels or a jar of honey, which tells you something about how Crafted operates. This farm-to-table New American restaurant sits in Yakima wine country and takes the surrounding agriculture seriously, building a menu where the kitchen collaborates and seasons actually steer the ship. A 2024 James Beard Semifinalist, it runs a tasting menu without the stiff-backed dining room that usually comes with one.

Picnic tables covered in floral oilcloth and a menu that has almost no peer in San Francisco: Prubechu is the city's go-to for Chamorro cooking, the Indigenous cuisine of Guam. The staff will walk you through it happily, from coconut-braised beef noodles to thrice-cooked brisket skewers. Fire up the space heaters on a cool evening and the outdoor patio starts to feel, almost, like somewhere warmer.

Kase x Noko is an omakase sushi counter where getting a seat means setting an alarm for five to midnight, six weeks ahead, and then refreshing like it's a concert drop. There are three sessions a night at the bar, and they vanish almost instantly. It's a tasting-menu splurge, so dress like you earned it, and expect the chef to run the evening with jokes between courses. Nashville Scene named it Best New Restaurant in 2025.

Kouign-amann and cruffins sharing a case with proper baguettes and macarons sets the tone fast at this French patisserie. The laminated dough is serious, the espresso keeps things moving, and the whole operation closes by two, so the morning crowd treats it with the urgency the pastries deserve. A James Beard Outstanding Bakery semifinalist, JL Patisserie is what happens when French technique finds a permanent home in the desert.

Named for the men who drove cattle up the Chisholm Trail, Hotel Drover sits inside Fort Worth's historic Stockyards district, where the Western aesthetic is less costume party, more lived-in. The rooms lean rustic without tipping into bolo-tie excess, the backyard has a pool and hot tub, and the upscale 97 West restaurant is on-site when the mood calls for it. Michelin awarded it one Key.

A 1964 concrete hulk at Wilshire and Normandie, the LINE is a hotel that leans into its brutalist bones rather than apologizing for them. The Sydell Group renovation turned 384 art-filled rooms into a Koreatown landmark, and the Hollywood Hills-facing rooms frame the Griffith Observatory and the Hollywood Sign like a painting someone left on your wall. Design-forward guests who find warm neutrals suspicious tend to feel at home here.

A jewelry box packed in ice, opened tableside to reveal a small trove of nigiri and prepared bites, is the kind of move that sets the tone here. Kame is an intimate omakase counter where fish flies in from Japan several times a week and caviar appears less as a flourish than a habit. The chefs talk, the room stays loose, and the whole thing lands closer to a dinner party than a ceremony. A Michelin selected restaurant.

Dungeness crab in a bib is the great equalizer, and Thanh Long has been proving that since before most of its regulars were born. This Outer Sunset Vietnamese restaurant built its reputation on roast crab drowned in butter and garlic, served with noodles that are non-negotiably part of the order. The garlic situation borders on theatrical, which is exactly the point. An old-school institution that still packs the room on any given night.

Good Pie is an Arts District pizza shop that can't commit to one style, so it does New York slices, thick Detroit rectangles, and a thinner Long Island grandma pie. You can eat at the sidewalk window like it's a Tuesday, or take the nicer dining room and order a pitcher of sangria like it isn't. Lunch is easy here, gluten-free pies are on the menu, and nobody will make you pick a lane.

Two stone lions guard the front door of this North Charleston BBQ shop, which should tell you something about how the team does things. Meat by the pound is the move, built around shared combos that draw on both North Carolina Piedmont tradition and Chinese family-style dining. The hot pot collards keep people talking. Popular cuts like duck legs and ribs sell out, so arriving early is less a suggestion than a strategy.

A coffee shop in the East End where the menu reads like a choose-your-own-adventure: classic pour overs and cold brews on one side, house lattes spiked with cinnamon and raw honey on the other, and a CBD infusion option for anyone who knows what they want from life. Empanadas and breakfast tacos fill out the food side, with barbacoa on weekends for the committed. Loteria nights and paint-and-sip events keep regulars coming back between caffeine runs.

A three-story former church building with soaring ceilings and a rooftop deck overlooking the Houston skyline is a pretty good argument for a second latte. This bustling coffee shop leans into its bones, mixing plush sofas and good acoustics with a menu of espresso drinks, chai, and matcha. The Big Tex, clocking in at four ounces of espresso, is there for the committed.

Tapioca dumplings arrive wrapped in banana leaves you peel back like a present, and a catfish hot pot comes in a tureen with tomatoes and okra bobbing in tangy broth, and somehow the room stays minimal enough that the food fills every inch of it. This Vietnamese restaurant on East Passyunk has a James Beard semifinalist nod and a spot on the New York Times restaurant list, which tracks once the bánh bèo chén lands on the table.

A dim, low-slung corner restaurant in East Kensington where the pierogies are non-negotiable and the rotisserie pork lands on stewed kapusta like it's been doing this forever. The sourdough comes with dill butter and smalec, the seasonal water ice is a very Philly curveball, and the whole place reads like Polish comfort food filtered through a neighborhood that just figured out it had good bones. The New York Times put it on their Restaurant List.

The chef running this low-key Rainier Avenue to-go spot cut his teeth in the butcher shop that used to occupy the same building, and the meat knowledge shows. Brisket, burnt ends, and pull-apart pork ribs come with a choice of tomato-based house sauce or a Jamaican jerk concoction that starts complex and finishes hot. The New York Times named it among Seattle's 25 best restaurants. Save room for the rum cake.

The name means "midnight snack," which is about right for a casual restaurant where khao soi radiatori and green curry lamb with pakoras share a menu without apology. The team calls it first-generation American food, drawing on growing up Taiwanese American and cooking across the country. Monthly Wednesday burger specials and weekend brunch with Taiwanese rice porridge keep regulars checking the calendar. End with a gelato flight and no regrets.

The exterior mural of mariachi musicians on Oracle Road is hard to miss, and inside the checkered floors and chalkboard specials keep the vibe going. This is a Coahuila-style taqueria where the quesabirria tacos, slow-braised beef and melted cheese in crispy corn tortillas with consommé for dipping, are the reason the place fills up fast. The menu runs deeper than tacos, with mesquite-grilled ribs and carne asada burritos holding their own.

The open hearth at the center of this Middle Eastern restaurant burns hot enough that you can feel it from across the room, which is by design. Everything here runs through that fire, from the flatbreads to the meats, and the kitchen's control of it is something to watch. Spreads, vegetables, and grilled proteins arrive in a relaxed progression, and the Middle Eastern wine and spirits list is a serious one. On The Washington Post's 40 best D.C. restaurants.

The small orange building on Blake Street looks like it could be anyone's house, which is sort of the point. Hannibal's is an old-school soul food restaurant where the menu leans hard into Lowcountry seafood, with crab and shrimp rice that locals and working chefs both talk about. The New York Times put it on their Restaurant List, and the room makes clear why: nobody here opened a menu for the first time today.

The chef's counter at this vegan tasting menu spot on Belmont seats you close enough to watch the kitchen improvise, and some dishes on any given night will never appear again. Aaron Adams moves between produce-forward simplicity and molecular technique without making either feel like a statement. The sourcing runs local and specific, down to tofu from an old-school Portland maker. The New York Times put it on their Portland shortlist.

The menu arrives handwritten each day with exactly two appetizers, two mains, and two desserts, and you won't know what they are until you sit down. This romantic neighborhood restaurant is tucked into a house off a gravel path in a way that makes even locals double-check the address. The feel is a dinner party at a well-traveled friend's place, the food seasonally European and quietly confident. Booking ahead is wise; guessing the menu is the game.

Naturally leavened pizzas anchor the menu at this East Nashville neighborhood restaurant, though the kitchen moves seasonally enough that what lands on top is anyone's guess. Philip Krajeck also runs the more formal Rolf & Daughters, but Folk is the warmer, wood-paneled sibling where the cooking feels unfussy without being unambitious. The Michelin Guide has it selected, which tracks for a room that fills up with locals who clearly never needed a reason to return.

Lacquer walls and deep-red booths give Jackrabbit Filly the feel of a Chinese-American restaurant your parents loved, except the chef behind the counter was a Top Chef finalist. The menu runs New American Chinese and shareable, from dumplings to cornmeal-crusted trout, with frozen drinks for anyone who needs something festive alongside the spice. North Charleston, which has quietly become the more interesting half of the metro.

A mural of a steer over the parking lot reads "All Hail the King," which tells you everything about the mood inside this Texas-style BBQ shop in Charleston. John Lewis made his name at LA Barbecue in Austin, and the brisket he slices to order at the counter explains why. Picnic tables on a gravel patio, firewood stacked ceiling-high, and a permanent haze of smoke round out the scene. The Michelin Guide gave it a Bib Gourmand.

The open live-fire grill runs the length of the kitchen and puts on a show whether you book a counter seat or not. This Argentine-inflected steakhouse has been an institution on MLK forever, with Greg Denton and Gabrielle Quiñónez Denton behind the flames. The asado is built for at least two people and their ambitions. The chowder, meanwhile, arrives with a smoked marrow bone floating in it, which tells you everything about the kitchen's sense of humor.

A converted 1920s bank building on King Street, with soaring ceilings, white tile, and black wood that lands somewhere between Parisian brasserie and Charleston old money. The menu calls itself "fancy seafood," which is honest: this is a full-on seafood brasserie where the oysters are slurped cold and the crab toast is the kind of thing that makes ordering seem easy. The kitchen handles beautiful product with a light hand and doesn't overcomplicate it.

A coal-fired Neapolitan pizza shop a short walk from Coors Field, Marco's holds the only certification from the Associazione Verace Pizza Napoletana in Colorado, which is basically a notarized letter from Naples saying the pies are correct. The crust is blistered and chewy in the right proportions. Substitutions on the Neapolitan pies are not allowed, which will sort the room into people who appreciate that and people who ask anyway.

You pick your fish from the case, tell them how you want it, and then somehow end up eating one of the better seafood meals in the city. The New York Times ranked this Egyptian seafood market at number seventeen in New York, which raises real questions about what the fancier places on that list are doing with their tablecloths. The room is Astoria's Little Egypt, not a dining room, and nobody seems to mind.

A postcard mural splashes the back wall of this fast-casual Filipino spot in the International District, setting the tone for a menu that's equally unsubtle about what it loves. Bulalo, the clear beef shank soup, is the centerpiece, and Melissa Miranda's kitchen pulls it off with enough technique to make a simple bowl feel considered. The pancit, the lumpia, the sinigang wings, all travel well in the same direction. The New York Times has named it among Seattle's 25 best.

Seventy-eight beachfront acres of white stucco and red-tiled roofs designed to echo a Spanish village, sitting between the Pacific and the Santa Ynez wine country. This Ritz-Carlton resort has 358 rooms, five restaurants, and one of the larger spas on the Central Coast, so leaving the property is entirely optional. The Santa Barbara coast tends to attract a crowd that has already decided leisure is a serious pursuit, and the hotel leans into that.

The picadillo mac and cheese earned a shoutout from the New York Times, which tells you something about what this South Side BBQ counter is doing. Everything is cut and weighed market style, so you load your tray with brisket, turkey, and sides that lean hard into Mexican tradition: pickled nopales, street corn, chicharrón mac. A line forms early and moves slowly for good reason. Texas Monthly put it on their statewide list, and a James Beard semifinalist nod followed.

A wood-fired grill anchors the dining room at this lively Mexican restaurant on the Trinity River, where the move is to start with a drink at the horseshoe bar and watch the kitchen work before settling in for a round of shareable plates and grilled meats. The tequila and mezcal list runs deep, and the crowd skews festive in the way places do when the patio has won awards and someone nearby is building tacos at the table.

The dining room sits on the second floor of a Victorian house that has been many things over the years, and it still feels lived-in. Modern French cooking with a Pacific Northwest accent is the move here, seasonal and unshowy, the kind that makes you want to book the chef's counter and stay while the afternoon light changes. The New York Times named it among Portland's best. A glass from the thoughtful wine list and a couple of small plates, and it's easy to see why regulars never really leave.

A tiny Filipino coffee shop in Bowmanville where the menu leans on flavors you won't find at any other cafe in the city. Pandan, ube, and macadamia nuts show up where oat milk and brown sugar usually do. The room is small enough that regulars eventually stop ordering off the menu and let the baristas improvise. Its sibling spot, Drip Collective, handles the Fulton Market crowd if you need more elbow room.

Crystal chandeliers hang over dark-paneled walls covered in jazz-themed artwork, which is either perfect or a lot, depending on your mood. This Southern fusion dinner spot runs on house-infused spirits and live music, and the kitchen leans New Orleans by way of the Southwest: gumbo with Andouille and hush puppies, pasta soaked in lobster broth and crawfish. The kind of room that feels designed for a date night where everyone is trying slightly harder than usual.

Masa-based dishes anchor the menu at this Mexican restaurant on East Sixth, where chef Fermín Núñez runs an open kitchen in a space that feels rustic and a little buzzy. The cooking moves between tuna tiradito, wood-grilled vegetables, and tacos built on confit wagyu brisket. A James Beard semifinalist and a Michelin Guide selection, it draws a crowd that tends to linger well past the last tortilla.

A small Vietnamese soup counter in a Southeast Powell strip mall, open each morning until the pots run dry, which happens faster than you'd expect. Two or three soups rotate daily, with Saturday drawing people specifically for the cao lầu, a Hoi An regional noodle dish that rarely makes it this far from home. The Vietnamese iced coffee hits harder than you're ready for. Come early, bring cash, and don't stress the menu because there isn't much of one to stress about.

The smash burger with house-cured pork jowl and jeaw condiment is either a flex or a provocation, possibly both. Taurus Ox is a casual Laotian restaurant that moved out of its original counter spot into a proper dining room, and the menu came with it. Khao poon and a family sausage recipe built around lemongrass anchor the Lao side of things, while that burger quietly complicates any notion of what the restaurant is supposed to be. The New York Times named it among Seattle's 25 best.

The wood-fired oven sits dead center in the room, which tells you everything about priorities at this intimate pizzeria in the Warehouse Arts District. Naturally leavened crusts, house-stretched mozzarella, and locally sourced toppings keep the menu short and the focus narrow. The minimalist space, warm lighting, and low hum of a neighborhood crowd make it feel like someone's very well-appointed living room, if that living room produced excellent pizza.

A sandwich shop on Haight doing exactly one thing from New Orleans: the muffuletta, served in a wedge like a slice of savory pie, toasted or cold. The meat version layers prosciutto, mortadella, soppressata, and provolone under a spicy olive spread; mushrooms and scallions handle the vegetarian side. The pickled egg salad with potato chips stuffed inside is its own argument. Seating is tight, but Buena Vista Park is a short walk away, which seems intentional.

A nondescript Katy strip mall is doing a lot of work here. Inside, the dining room runs to sleek fixtures and lazy susan-fitted private rooms, and the menu reads like a focused edit of Hong Kong classics rather than the usual encyclopedia. Congee, wonton soup, and candied walnut shrimp anchor things, with weekend seafood specials worth asking about. The Michelin Guide has it on their list, and the Houston Chronicle ranked it among the city's top restaurants.

The cheeseburger, griddled and stacked with onion aioli and double cheese on a toasted sesame bun, has its own reputation to manage. But The Loyalist is a proper basement brasserie doing quiche Lorraine, anchovy toasts, and trout grenobloise with a polish that quietly nods to the tasting-menu restaurant upstairs. It sits below Smyth, which holds three Michelin stars, and the kitchen shares the same sensibility at a fraction of the formality.

Freya is a tasting-menu restaurant where the courses change daily and a pierogi gets dressed like a Coney dog. It's fine dining, but the room is loose enough that you can flip through a binder of the owner's vinyl and request a song, which is not a sentence you hear at most places with a James Beard Semifinalist nod. The wine list leans toward small, sustainable producers, and the Dragonfly bar next door handles cocktails.

Other Mama is a Japanese neighborhood spot in a Durango Drive strip mall, where the fish comes in so fresh you'll forget you're in a desert. The daily catch and oysters live on a chalkboard, and the French toast caviar started as a special and never left. The room feels like a polished dive bar, with the chef's trinkets on display, so jeans and a low-stakes date night both fit.

The sour cream cake near the door has been pulling people off Balboa Street for longer than most San Francisco restaurants have existed. Cinderella is an old-school Russian bakery and cafe in the Richmond, the kind of place where the piroshki are stuffed with cabbage or beef, the borscht is non-negotiable, and the honey cake has its own following. Order something, find a seat, and stop worrying about whatever you were worrying about.

Handmade pasta rooted in Roman and Lazio tradition is the point here, and Evan Funke's Italian restaurant inside the Fontainebleau takes that seriously enough to make everything else on the Strip feel like a reheated punchline. The room is modern rustic, open enough to clock the occasional famous face drifting through, with quieter tables along the edges for anyone who'd rather not. Seasonal antipasti, handmade pasta, the full Roman heritage treatment.

The Spanish Revival bones have been here forever, and a top-to-bottom renovation brought them back to the kind of formal California glamour that makes you feel underdressed just checking in. This is a Fairmont hotel in downtown Long Beach, so expect crisp service and rooms that skew sophisticated over breezy. The rooftop bar looks out to Catalina on a clear day, and the Sky Room above it pushes all the way to the L.A. skyline.

Some rooms look directly into Truist Park, close enough to follow the count without a ticket. This AAA Four Diamond hotel sits inside The Battery Atlanta, the mixed-use development wrapped around the Braves' stadium, so the postgame crowd spills past your front door rather than into a parking lot. Rooms run to 55-inch TVs and refined furnishings, and the upper suites add rooftop patios with soaking tubs above the outfield.