The Best Places in the United States

The bungalows come with their own infinity pool, direct beach access, and a dedicated host, which sets the tone for what this Ritz-Carlton resort is going for. It sits on Oahu's North Shore, far enough from Waikiki to feel like a different island entirely. The activity menu runs to around 70 options, from ukulele workshops to after-dark snorkeling, so the outdoorsy guests will never run out of things to sign up for.

Bagels arrive stacked on wooden dowels here, which tells you most of what you need to know about the vibe. This is Major Food Group's theatrical, not-quite-kosher take on a Jewish appetizing shop in Soho, where seed-crusted bagels anchor spreads of lox, sable, and sturgeon, and there's a full caviar section for when a schmear feels insufficiently dramatic. Budget accordingly; this crowd did not come to save money.

Ali's is a counter-service roti shop on Fulton where the menu runs from conch to liver to curry goat, all folded into dhalpuri, the soft split-pea flatbread that does the heavy lifting. It closed for a renovation with almost no warning, which rattled the regulars, and it came back with picture windows full of pepper sauce and bush tea. Halal, cash only, so stop at the ATM before you start deliberating over kingfish.

The pressed-tin ceiling and apothecary cases are original to the old drugstore this soda fountain has been around forever inside. It's the kind of Carroll Gardens spot that puts potato chips on a sundae and makes it feel obvious in retrospect. Ice cream floats run on housemade soda, and the sundaes come loaded with toppings, most made in-house. Order at the counter and find a stool; nobody here is in a hurry.

This is a Thai street food counter in the Arts District, run out of a kitchen roughly the size of a walk-in closet, which explains why most people take it to go. The pad see ew runs about fifteen dollars and arrives with thick, chewy noodles, broccoli, and shredded chicken. The neighbors have bigger dining rooms and louder reputations, and this place seems fine with that. Order the Thai iced tea, then decide how disciplined you feel about the mango sticky rice.

The Beaux-Arts clocktower has watched the Bay Area's commute patterns change completely, and the building just quietly became a food hall and farmers' market instead. Nearly 100 growers and vendors ring the plaza on Saturdays, with smaller markets midweek. Inside, the stalls run from coffee to chocolate to pantry staples you'll absolutely overpack into your carry-on. It rewards slow wandering over a decisive plan.

Kumoya is a stylish LoHi sushi bar where the fish list runs to monkfish liver, toro dry-aged for more than a month, and species most of us only meet on a menu, with an optional wasabi flight for anyone who wants to compare. The kitchen also fries a pork sando on milk bread, which 5280 put on its Denver sandwich list, and the bar pours Japanese whisky and rice spirits. Expect to dress a notch above a Tuesday.

Market Street Cafe is a big, cheap Hawaiian-leaning diner tucked inside the California Hotel, which makes it the logical landing spot for any group whose Vegas plans collapsed by noon. The menu runs on a clock: prime rib specials show up in the late afternoon, and the oxtail soup waits until after 11pm, a schedule that suits people with nowhere else to be. Wear whatever you slept in.

A few blocks from Ocean Beach, this old-school Northern Chinese restaurant in the Outer Sunset has been feeding the neighborhood forever. The cumin-spiced lamb is the reason regulars make the drive, though the beef pancakes, flaky and properly oily, make a strong argument for staying longer. Big bowls of thick noodles fill out the tables, and the date-stuffed mochi arrives warm and sugar-dusted. Fog outside, comfort inside.

Perilla is a Korean steakhouse tucked into a downtown Chicago hotel, where the staff cook the cuts on a grill at your table so you can supervise without technically lifting a finger. Wagyu and marinated short rib are the draw, but the Caesar with milk bread croutons and the Korean fried chicken keep the non-beef contingent fed. Since it's a hotel restaurant, steak and eggs start at 7 a.m. Eater lists it among Chicago's steakhouses.

Pizza Dada is a New York-style slice counter tucked inside the Sterling Food Hall, which makes it the Loop's answer to the question "what if lunch weren't a sandwich." The slices are big enough that two could pass for a meal, with a charred crust and a zippy sauce. Whole pies are available too, and sharing remains strictly optional. Expect office badges, lanyards, and people eating over paper plates.

This is a counter-seat oyster bar inside a Palace Station casino that never closes, which means a pan roast at 4am is a reasonable thing to want. The cooks work a maze of steam and running water a few feet from your stool, performing the whole thing for people who are mostly just hungry. Order the oysters first, then stir rice into the tomato broth, a move the regulars figured out long before you did.

The dining room completes a full rotation every 80 minutes or so, which means your view of the Strip shifts whether you ordered the short ribs or not. This is a fine-dining restaurant perched 800 feet up the Stratosphere tower, so the occasion practically dresses itself. The seasonal menu leans international, the sommelier is on hand, and the cocktail program takes itself seriously. The floor does the work either way.

Toukei is a Japanese izakaya off Bellaire where the kitchen keeps going until 1am and the menu covers sushi, yakitori, and ramen without ever settling on a lane. One wall is a floor-to-ceiling liquor cabinet, with a second stash stacked behind the bar for backup. It's a good fit for a pregame or an after-party, and ordering only water will make you the most conspicuous person in the building.

A working fireplace in most of the eight rooms sets the tone at this small luxury inn in Westchester County, where rustic and polished coexist without apologizing to each other. Guests choose from five room configurations, some with terraces looking out over lawns and woods. The Bedford Post Tavern hums along on-site, and there's even a yoga studio that somehow doesn't feel tacked on.

A renovated Seventies motor lodge turned adults-only boutique hotel on the Russian River, where Guerneville plays reluctant host to San Francisco weekenders seeking something more considered than a cabin rental. Modern-rustic rooms lean into the setting without going full Pottery Barn, a few come with vintage Malm fireplaces, and the spa has a saltwater pool. Breakfast arrives at your door, which is the only morning routine that makes sense out here.

The canal-side waterfront residences sit across the water from the historic inn rooms and hillside garden cottages, which tells you this place has a lot going on. An old-school Hampton Bays inn that's been brought back with modern amenities and genuine East End polish, it suits quiet escapes and big group weekends equally. Good Ground Tavern, the first Hamptons outpost from Union Square Events, runs a Cherrywood grill and easy happy hours on-site.

Refurbished Airstream trailers and a tiny house arranged in a semi-circle around a botanical garden, which is about as on-brand for Ojai as a sound bath at sunset. This small, bohemian trailer hotel sits in the Topatopa Mountains between Los Angeles and Santa Barbara, each unit with a private outdoor nook, and a few with hammocks slung between palms. The crowd comes for hiking, galleries, and spiritual retreats, and leaves smelling faintly of sage.

The original building on a sprawling 200-acre Boca estate, the Cloister was designed by Addison Mizner with the kind of Spanish Mediterranean flourish that makes everything feel vaguely like a palazzo. Dark-wood rooms and hidden garden enclaves sit steps from the property's main dining and shopping cluster, the Rockwell-designed Palm Court bar, and a 50,000-square-foot Moorish spa that takes the Alhambra references very seriously. Old-money Florida, with a membership that acts accordingly.

Three geothermal pools fed by natural hot springs anchor this mid-century motel in Desert Hot Springs, twenty minutes outside Palm Springs proper. The name isn't clever branding; the springs predate the golf courses and the architecture pilgrims by a long stretch. Rooms wrap around the pools in classic roadside motel fashion, which means the whole thing feels like a very good idea someone had in 1955 and nobody has improved upon since.

Sarasota isn't exactly where you'd expect to find raw concrete and built-in minimalist storage, but here we are. Kompose is a boutique hotel on University Parkway that skips the tropical pastels entirely, leaning into an industrial-chic aesthetic instead. There's a pool, sauna, fitness center, café, and bar, plus a podcast studio for guests who apparently travel with an audience.

A spring-fed pool heated by the earth itself sets the tone at this nine-room boutique hotel in Desert Hot Springs, halfway between Joshua Tree and Palm Springs. The mid-century bones have been around forever, though the interior has softened toward warm, organic textures over time. A small spa rounds things out. The Michelin Guide has it among its selected hotels, which tracks for a place this quietly sure of itself.

Point Reyes sits less than two hours from San Francisco but feels like a genuinely different world, which is the whole point of staying here. Olema House is a small 24-room lodge on the coastal highway, freshly renovated and one of very few places to sleep in the area. Marin County keeps tourist infrastructure deliberately sparse, so a comfortable base this close to the wild headlands and seascapes of Point Reyes fills a real gap.

The dunes outside the window make it feel like the edge of the map, even though Carmel is just a short drive south. This Monterey Bay resort keeps things low-slung and unfussy from the outside, then turns quietly luxurious once you're in, with gas fireplaces doing honest work on foggy coastal nights. Salt Wood Kitchen handles the seafood-forward meals. Beach yoga, a heated pool, and a spa round things out.

Five acres in Amagansett, which sits just past East Hampton for those who find East Hampton a little much. The Reform Club is a small luxury inn where the smallest room in the main house is a suite, cottages offer more seclusion, and a four-bedroom residence handles groups wanting to pretend they live here. Bvlgari amenities, owners' artwork on the walls, Pilates on the schedule. The Meeting House feeds guests and locals alike, which keeps it from feeling sealed off.

A barn and a cluster of 17th and 18th century cottages, beautifully preserved outside and quietly gutted into something minimalist and linen-forward within. This small hotel sits a mile inland from the beach on two pastoral acres, which makes it the anti-Hamptons Hamptons option, no oceanfront scene to perform for. Frette sheets, Matouk towels, Nespresso on the counter, old bones with a very considered interior. The Michelin Guide lists it among its selected hotels.

A boutique bed and breakfast on Woodstock's main drag, Twin Gables keeps a well-preserved Victorian exterior but drops any interest in period charm the moment you walk through the door. Inside, bold colors and graphic art fill rooms that share no common aesthetic with each other. Not every room has a private bathroom, and the ones that do book fast on weekends, so plan accordingly.

Bluetooth turntables stocked with actual records sit in every room at this boutique hotel, which feels like a fair summary of Woodstock's relationship with the past. The compound reads as its own little world despite being in the middle of town: modern lines, rustic textures, heated bathroom floors, colorful art. The Tannery café handles coffee and not much more, but the town is right there and seems happy to help.

Neon lights, pop art, and retro arcade machines set the scene at this smash burger shop on West Fourth Street. The whole vibe skews cheerfully unserious, which makes it easy to miss that the kitchen is doing something careful underneath it all. A James Beard semifinalist for Best New Restaurant, it draws a crowd that lingers longer than a burger run usually warrants. The Ladykiller, with its black garlic sauce and local pickle chips, is the one everyone orders first.

A Gulf Coast fish-and-chicken restaurant in Independence Heights from a pitmaster who clearly didn't want to choose between the smoker and the fryer. Catfish and chicken share the spotlight, with shrimp po'boys, chargrilled oysters, and a pork belly BLT on Texas toast for people who read the whole menu. Gumbo comes with a Brussels sprouts salad, which counts as balance. Lunch is a casual Tuesday-through-Saturday affair.

Red Plate is a Cantonese fine-dining room tucked away at the Cosmopolitan, small enough and quiet enough that you forget you're a few floors above a casino. Tea-based cocktails share the menu with evening dim sum and roast meats, and a whole suckling pig or duck can be ordered ahead if you're organized or celebrating. The chef was a James Beard semifinalist for Best Chef: Southwest.

Seafood flown in daily from both coasts and the Sea of Cortez keeps this polished seafood restaurant on Camelback Road from feeling like a landlocked afterthought. The dining room leans comfortable and upscale, the kind of place where booths fill with date-night couples while the bar handles happy hour with enough seriousness to earn a Best Happy Hour nod from Phoenix New Times. The cocktail list gets the same care as the fish.

Tijuana-style street food from a truck usually parked outside Cobra Arcade Bar on Second Street, running until 2 a.m. on weekends for a reason. The chef behind the counter built a menu around classics like tacos al pastor and vampiros, then added birria ramen for anyone who wants to confuse their stomach in the best way. Phoenix New Times named it the top late-night Mexican food truck two years running, which tracks with the crowd spilling out of nearby bars.

A seafood counter tucked inside Fair Isle Brewing, La Marea brings Mexican coastal cooking to a city that usually prefers its seafood left alone. Hamachi and tuna arrive over tostadas, sliced with a precision that suggests sushi somewhere in the team's past. The scallop aguachile and chile morita aioli do not shy from heat. The brewery's farmhouse ales and saisons make good company, and the shared space keeps the whole thing loose.

The pastry case up front, stacked with crepe and box cakes in flavors like durian and chestnut, hints that this Aurora-border spot plays by its own rules. It's a small, easy-to-miss Hong Kong-style restaurant where the chef's special section does the heavy lifting, and several of the greatest hits aren't on the menu at all. Ask about the salt-and-pepper tofu, and call ahead if you want crab or lobster.

The fried shrimp comes with aioli, the zucchini blossoms are stuffed, and the whole thing sits next door to Chez Panisse, which is either coincidence or not. Alice Waters is behind this too, a casual wine bar where the farm-to-table reverence is intact but the menu reads lighter and less ceremonious than its famous neighbor. The New York Times gave it two stars in 2026, which for a neighborhood spot serving butter beans is a lot to live down.

The pita comes straight from a pizza oven on the sidewalk, still puffed with steam when it hits the table. Yerord Mas is a tiny, no-frills Armenian restaurant in a former doughnut shop on San Fernando Road, and no, they don't do takeout. The chef pulls from diaspora kitchens across Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, Iran, and beyond, treating the differences as a single, coherent argument for why Los Angeles exists. The New York Times put it on their 2026 Restaurant List.

The slices here are slender, which is a statement in a borough where bigger is considered better. F&F is a slice shop in Carroll Gardens running a quiet argument for restraint: a careful sauce-to-cheese ratio, toppings used sparingly and only when they add something. The New York Times put it on their short list of the city's best pizza places, and Grub Street agreed. Come hungry but not starving, because the line moves at its own pace.

Pizzeria Leopold is a Lakewood pizza shop that doubles as an Italian grocer, which means you can order a pie and leave with a jar of something imported. The sandwich menu has a cult of its own, led by a four-inch chicken cutlet stack that reads like a New Jersey deli trying to settle down in the Denver suburbs. Casual counter ordering, no dress code, and it turns up on Westword's list of the top restaurants in Denver.

An old tavern in Bucks County farm country, about an hour from Philadelphia, that has been turned into a boutique hotel without being stripped of its bones. The building has been around forever, and the team has leaned into that with a modern-retro style that's theatrical without tipping into theme park. Good for a weekend when the city stops making sense and you need a road that narrows before it gets quiet.

Shiplap walls, tapestries over the beds, and a vibe that reads surf hippie without trying too hard. This Montauk motel has been in the Daunt family for generations, and it wears that history lightly, skewing more beach-cottage cool than anything the word "motel" usually promises. Sandy feet are the dress code, the on-site restaurant The Bird has been here forever, and the Michelin Guide has taken notice of the whole operation.

The Graduate brand has a formula: find a college town with a forgettable hotel scene and replace it with something that actually knows where it is. In Annapolis, home to the Naval Academy and St. John's College, that means a colorful, niche-focused hotel that wears its setting without apology. The Michelin Guide has it in their Selected Hotels list, which tracks.

A boutique hotel carved out of an 1885 estate in Leesburg, a town that once hid the National Archives and later became a quiet retreat for Washington's political class. Fireplaces anchor multiple suites, the Rooftop Suite has its own outdoor terrace above the roofline, and the in-house restaurant runs a hunt-inspired dinner menu. Loudoun County's vineyards and equestrian estates spread out just beyond town.

A French Revival mansion on a sprawling private estate that a prominent local family eventually decided to share with the rest of us. Hotel Hartness is a luxury boutique hotel sitting inside that former family home, surrounded by 180 acres of preserved green space, which makes it feel less like checking into a hotel and more like being a very welcome houseguest at someone else's inheritance.

An 1890s Victorian mansion in Tannersville that has been stripped of its Victorian earnestness and refilled with modernist design pieces and rotating work by contemporary New York artists. The 18-room boutique hotel sits in the Catskills at a moment when the region is trading resort sprawl for something smaller and stranger. The result reads less like a period restoration and more like a well-curated apartment where the art keeps changing.

Fifteen acres of Texas Hill Country outside Dripping Springs, where your options range from a yurt to a full four-bedroom Ranch House depending on how many people you're avoiding or inviting. This boutique retreat leans rural without apology: modern-rustic cabins, Porch Houses with wraparound porches and kitchenettes, a bathhouse and pool, and enough nearby wineries and breweries to fill a long weekend without much effort.

Sand between your toes is apparently a design philosophy here, not just an oversight. Marram is a 96-room resort in Montauk built around the idea that "barefoot luxury" is a complete sentence, leaning into the town's old surfer looseness rather than polishing it away. Yoga, craft workshops, and weathered-cool décor all pull in the same direction. The in-house restaurant from a Uruguayan chef does seafood and is worth your attention.

Six championship golf courses occupy a resort that could easily have stopped there and called it a day. PGA National in Palm Beach Gardens is a full-scale luxury resort: 339 rooms, a 40,000-square-foot spa, a racquet club, and enough restaurants and bars that non-golfers can book a week and never feel like they wandered into someone else's trip. The Michelin Guide lists it among its selected hotels.

Narragansett has been a surf town forever, but The Break is its first boutique hotel, and it plays the part without reaching for rope coils and ship wheels. Rooms lean mid-century surf-shack instead, many with balconies and gas fireplaces, all with rain showers. There's a pool, a small spa, a bistro downstairs, and a rooftop lounge. The actual surf is a few blocks away, which is either a selling point or a warning, depending on your skill level.

Each of the four suites at this Woodstock inn is named for a rock and roll matriarch, so you're essentially choosing between Aretha, Carole, Joni, and Stevie. It's a small, sustainably minded boutique hotel with clawfoot tubs, wood-paneled bathrooms, and private patios throughout. Bikes and a hot tub are shared by all guests. Two suites welcome dogs, which feels on-brand for a place that already has strong opinions about who deserves to be on the walls.

Three thousand five hundred acres in Rhode Island, which sounds like a typo until you're fly fishing or clay shooting before noon. The Preserve is a wilderness resort built around outdoor pursuits, with lodging that runs from contemporary townhouses to off-grid tiny homes. Evenings go to cedar hot tubs and the spa. The country's longest indoor shooting range is here, which is either the selling point or the detail that makes you call a different hotel.

Crescent Beach sits right outside the door here, with Peconic Bay stretching out beyond it, and the Pridwin has been around forever. It reads more like an Adirondack lodge than a beach resort, which is either confusing or exactly right depending on your mood. The 49 rooms and scattered cottages have been renovated to keep the old bones while adding a cleaner, more considered feel. Shelter Island itself requires a ferry, which keeps the crowds honest.

Tropical Modernist design from Virserius Studio gives this Curio Collection boutique hotel a cleaner, less fussy look than the Art Deco crowd down in Miami. Rooms are crisp and contemporary with relaxed, eclectic touches. The fitness program runs to boxing classes and personal training, three restaurants include a rooftop lounge, and Michelin-starred Akira Back runs the modern Japanese kitchen downstairs.

A freshly overhauled resort on East Atlantic Avenue, the Seagate spans a beach club, an 18-hole golf course, and a spa across Delray Beach. The 157 rooms lean into handcrafted coastal details and locally commissioned art. Michael Mina's Bourbon Steak handles the serious dinner crowd, while Mr. Seas covers the oceanside fare and the Venetian Street Hotel Bar keeps things Italian-inflected for after. The Michelin Guide has it among its selected hotels.

Vegetarian Indian cooking that doesn't feel like a consolation prize for anyone at the table. Besharam, tucked into the Minnesota Street Project arts complex, is a sit-down restaurant where the chef came up through La Cocina and brings a South Asian pantry to bear with real confidence. The pickles and chutneys alone could anchor a meal. Prices stay reasonable, which in this city counts as a minor act of defiance.

The Indian-spiced Southern fried chicken has drawn pilgrims to this Indo-Pakistani restaurant in Houston's Gandhi District for years, and chef Kaiser Lashkari keeps adding reasons to return. Pakistani pastrami, Indian quesadillas, Hyderabadi and Punjabi curries, Goan salmon, mango tres leches: the menu moves around the subcontinent without apology. Anthony Bourdain came through, which tracks. A James Beard semifinalist for Best Chef: Texas.

La Casa De Juliette is a relaxed Mexican spot in Centennial Hills, with big windows set into terra cotta walls and the kind of Tulum-style lighting that makes the northwest valley feel briefly coastal. The chef landed here after crossing paths with the Sand Dollar Lounge team over a bar. Expect street corn with bone marrow and an agua fresca that can be spiked with coconut rum.

This is a counter-service Hawaiian and Filipino spot in a Las Vegas strip-mall unit, decorated like a beach cottage that has never heard of the Strip, complete with an island mural and a "let your dreams set sail" sign. The cashier calls everyone sweetheart. Plates run big enough to split, and the Spam musubi travels well, which is useful if you're headed somewhere with a bar and a dim view of outside food.

This is a fast-casual smashburger counter in Centennial Hills, run by the same people behind Sorry Not Sorry ice cream, so the line-out-the-door routine arrived pre-rehearsed. Black Angus patties get pressed on a hot griddle until the edges go lacy, then land on a potato roll with American cheese and thin onions. The menu is short, the prices are fast-food friendly, and nobody is here to dress up for a burger.

A wood-fired pizzeria in the middle of Old Town Scottsdale that leans into the craft-beer-bar half of its personality as much as the pizza half. The dough is thin but sturdy enough to carry generous toppings without folding, and the homemade mozzarella shows up like it has something to prove. A serious Arizona craft beer list keeps the mood convivial. Ranked 29th on 50 Top Pizza USA, which is a lot for a place with a patio and wooden tables.