The Best Places to Eat and Stay in the United States

An industrial-chic small-plates restaurant on Royal Street where the menu leans Gulf-forward with enough global riffs to keep things interesting. The kitchen started as a tapas spot and still thinks in that register, running imaginative little plates alongside proper mains. Save a lane for dessert: the bread pudding with toasted pecans, apples, and bourbon caramel has become something of a local institution. Closed Sundays and Mondays, so plan accordingly.

The walls here have been graffitied for so long that the graffiti is basically the décor. This old-school Boulder pizza and burger joint has been slinging pies with what regulars call "ugly crust" and grass-fed beef burgers since before anyone can remember, in a room that has hosted Robert Redford (as a server), Obama, and Bourdain. The Buff Mac, a burger topped with buffalo chicken tenders and blue cheese, has its own quiet mythology.

The Taco Stand is a counter-service taco spot on Spring Mountain Road, where the tortillas are pressed fresh as each order comes in, so nobody is rushing you but the line behind you. The menu stops at six kinds of taco, plus burritos, quesadillas, and carne asada fries. The real decision-making happens at the salsa bar, which runs from habanero to chipotle and invites you to build something nobody warned you about. Cheap, casual, no dress code.

The Thumb is a north Scottsdale gas station where you pump gas outside and order brisket by the platter inside, under a chandelier that looks lost. Counter service, cash-register prices, and a gift shop and coffee bar to browse while your number comes up. The beans are so meaty they flirt with chili. Phoenix New Times has named it one of the Valley's top barbecue spots, which is a sentence about a place with a fish tank.

A sun-filled corner bakery in Jamaica Plain where the croissant menu changes often enough to keep regulars guessing. Third Cliff built its following at a farmers market cart before settling into its permanent spot, and the French pastry classics get unexpected company here, kimchi cheddar croissants alongside vegan cardamom morning buns. The espresso is taken seriously. Neighborhood coffee shop energy, pastry-destination ambitions.

Those Guys Pies is an off-Strip pizza shop in the Lake East neighborhood, and it began life as the secret pizza spot tucked inside the Cosmopolitan. It does round and square pies, with names like the Big Sexy and a pulled-pork, pineapple, jalapeño number called the Barbecue Maui Wowie. A ghost-pepper pie called the Diablo is on the menu too, for anyone who woke up feeling fearless. Eater included it on its list of the best pizza in Las Vegas.

An old-school Jewish bakery that's been a Houston institution for generations, Three Brothers turns out egg bread, rye, pumpernickel, bagels, Kaiser rolls, pecan pie, and gingerbread men year-round from its Braeswood location. The roots run deep, tracing back to Eastern European family recipes, and the counter still feels like it. Three other outposts have opened around the city, but this is where the habit starts.

This is an old-school Houston bakery with a display case that runs from rye and pumpernickel to Kaiser rolls, bagels, coffee cakes, and pecan pie. The recipes trace back to Poland by way of a family that's been at it for generations, which explains why the gingerbread men show up year-round instead of waiting for permission. Expect a line of regulars who already know their order and a cashier who's heard every question about the cookies.

This is an old-school Houston bakery with Eastern European roots, the kind of place where rye, pumpernickel, and Kaiser rolls share a case with coffee cakes and pecan pie. Gingerbread men are made year-round, which tells you the cookies have no concept of a calendar. It's a counter-service stop with a few tables, a bag-it-yourself pace, and a line that's mostly regulars who already know what they came for.

Three Brothers is an old-school Houston bakery with a counter, a line, and a bakery case that does not believe in restraint. Rye, pumpernickel, and Kaiser rolls sit near coffee cakes, pecan pie, and gingerbread men that are available in any month, apparently because December has no monopoly. It's cheap, casual, and busy, the kind of place where you walk in for bread and walk out holding a box of cookies you can't quite explain.

A craft brewery and pizza spot on Cherry Street with a tiered outdoor patio that does a convincing impression of a neighborhood park, sun shades and all. The beer list swings from a New England IPA to a French toast pastry ale, with a Cherry Street Sour for those keeping it local. Detroit-style squares and thin tavern-style pizzas handle the food side. Live music plays regularly, but the back picnic tables sit just far enough away that conversation survives.

Sea urchin lanterns and hand-painted wallpaper set the tone for what turns out to be a serious cocktail bar tucked inside an easy-to-miss strip of shops in Wailea. The drinks lean into the island without becoming kitsch, and the zero-proof menu gets the same care as everything else. Bar snacks lean toward candied macadamia nuts and Chamorro-style shrimp cups. A 2026 Spirited Awards Regional Top 10 Honoree for Best U.S. Cocktail Bar.

Toca Madera is a Mexican restaurant on Allen Parkway that treats dinner as a floor show, with live entertainment, a Vegas-meets-Miami sensibility, and cocktails and dishes that arrive on fire. The menu runs from smoky ceviche to grilled wagyu to a branzino in chipotle mezcal butter. Expect dressed-up groups and a bill to match, plus a kitchen that stays open until 1 a.m. on weekends, which Eater counted among Houston's best late-night spots.

A bowl of red without a single bean in sight, served the way Frank X. Tolbert intended when he more or less rewrote the rulebook on Texas chili decades ago. This casual chili parlor in Grapevine keeps his recipe going, ladling out small and large bowls with cheese and crackers, or folded into a Frito pie if you're feeling committed. It's a reason to make the suburban drive, and Main Street has enough to browse while the chili lingers.

The Tonga Room is a tiki bar and restaurant built around the Fairmont's old indoor pool, which now holds a floating stage where a band plays through the thunderstorms. Every fifteen minutes the ceiling rains on the lagoon, complete with lightning and thunderclaps, and grown adults rise from their seats to film it. The mai tais are strong, the kids get a layered blue-and-pink mocktail, and the pork belly bites help the whole thing along.

The cigarette machine still works. Tony's Baltimore Grill is a dive bar and pizza-pasta joint that has looked exactly the same since the 1970s, and the regulars, who get tattoos of the place, would riot if anything changed. The 24-hour bar draws casino workers, bands off the nearby stage, and anyone who needs a heavy pour at 1 a.m. Order the pizza, order the eggplant, and let a stranger tell you what Atlantic City is actually like.

Tortello is a pastifico on Division with a storefront window that doubles as a live show, staff cutting and kneading dough for anyone who slows down on the sidewalk. The flour comes from Italy, and a master sfoglina was brought in to train the team, which tells you how seriously they take noodles. It's casual and moderately priced, with fresh pasta by the pound to go and a patio that fills up the minute the weather allows.

Toscana is the full-service, sit-down Italian restaurant tucked inside the sprawling Eataly food hall at Park MGM, which means you walk past pastry counters and pasta shelves to get there, which somehow works. The menu leans Tuscan and seasonal, the kind of regional Italian that changes with what's good rather than just what photographs well. It's a proper dinner-out option in a building most people wander through eating arancini.

The kitchen crew is up at 3 a.m. so you don't have to be, which is the kind of arrangement that makes a bagel shop worth its reputation. Townie is a no-frills NY-style operation in Palm Springs turning out hand-rolled bagels, including a sourdough version and a daily gluten-free batch, plus black-and-white cookies and brownies. Call ahead, because the line in the desert sun is a real thing and a hat will only get you so far.

This is a Sichuan restaurant in Sterling Heights where the peppercorns go to work on your lips and don't clock out until well after dessert. The fried squirrel-shaped fish is what regulars order before the menus finish landing, and the vegetarian options are better than the cuisine's usual afterthought. Big round tables suit a crowd, which is how most of the room arrives. Eater lists it among Metro Detroit's best Chinese restaurants.

This is a neighborhood red-sauce joint on Vernon Park Place, run by the same family for ages and arranged so that nothing has had to be fixed. The menu lives on chalkboards, the wine list is long and priced like it respects your wallet, and the eggplant Parm and lemon chicken arrive in portions that assume you have somewhere to nap. Regulars treat first-timers like cousins they've been meaning to feed.

Twisted Sourdough is a strip-mall pizza counter in Henderson that bakes its sourdough into a cone, essentially a waffle cone of pizza stuffed with sauce, stretchy cheese, and pepperoni. The mozzarella sticks run about the length of a forearm, so bring a measuring tape if you're the type. There are also New York slices and deep dish with a caramelized cheese crust, plus a handful of tables and a covered patio. It's on The Infatuation's list of best pizza spots in Las Vegas.

A rooftop cocktail bar perched above downtown Springfield with an art deco walk-in and a big-city view that the city itself doesn't always advertise. The long bar-height table near the corner fits a group comfortably, and the sightlines over the railing make it easy to feel like you've escaped somewhere. Flatbreads circulate for sharing, and the drink menu runs from cocktails to mocktails, which keeps everyone at the table happy.

Vaquero Taquero is a tiny taco counter on East 31st where nothing on the menu costs more than five dollars, which makes it a rare lunch that won't require explaining your finances to anyone. The al pastor comes with pineapple, and the spiciest salsa is there for people who like a little drama. The room is small enough that you should bring one friend, maybe two if you're feeling reckless.

The chicken tikka taco built this place's reputation, and it's still the reason the line forms. Velvet Taco is a fast-casual taco chain that leans global, folding Indian, Thai, and Southern flavors into flour tortillas without making too big a deal about it. The Deep Ellum flagship is the original, with a paid lot out back for anyone who's circled the block twice already. Finish with the red velvet cake, which is exactly what it sounds like.

The marinara here is just tomato, olive oil, and blistered basil, and it doesn't need a single thing more. Vesta is a wood-fired pizza shop in downtown Redwood City where the oven does the heavy lifting, scorching pies to a proper, crackling crisp. The sausage and honey pie, mascarpone folded in, is the crowd favorite if minimalism isn't your move. The San Francisco Chronicle put it on their Peninsula and South Bay best list.

This is a white-tablecloth steakhouse downtown, part of the Landry's empire, where the dry-aged cuts arrive after a round of caviar and oysters Rockefeller. You can go formal in the dining room or sit in the bar, where a pianist plays nightly and nobody checks your cufflinks. Expect expense-account prices and a crowd that treats a Tuesday like an occasion, which the bubbly is happy to support.

Green Guatemalan coffee beans aged in bourbon barrels before roasting is the kind of detail that either makes you very excited or very tired, and Vice & Virtue is banking on the former. This specialty coffee shop and roaster sits inside downtown Memphis's Arrive Hotel, with a warm, slightly theatrical aesthetic that fits the neighborhood. They source globally and collaborate locally, keeping the menu rotating and the regulars curious.

The "trashcan" nacho, Dallas's contribution to stadium-snack culture, gets a serious upgrade at this Deep Ellum restaurant. The format is the same towering chip stack drowning in cheese, black beans, pico, guac, and pickled jalapeños, but the cheese here is worth caring about. The crowd skews young and loud in the best Deep Ellum tradition, which makes the nachos feel like exactly the right thing to order.

Villa Nova is a no-frills, family-run pizzeria in suburban Stickney, the kind of place where the pie arrives square-cut, the way thin-crust tavern pizza is supposed to. The sausage is fennel-forward and left in chunky, meatball-ish clumps, which is a bold choice for a topping and a good one. It's been around forever, so expect regulars who haven't looked at the menu in years. Eater included it among Chicago's best tavern-style thin-crust spots.

This is a family-run Vietnamese bakery and sandwich counter where the baguettes come out of the oven that same morning and end up wrapped around pâté, pickled vegetables, and lemongrass chicken. The Alameda cafe is the sunnier, tidier sibling to the original, with a few tables and a full coffee bar. It's cheap, quick, and perfect for lunch, assuming you can stop yourself from lecturing a stranger about bread.

Void is a neighborhood Italian American spot on Milwaukee Avenue in Avondale that skips the "you're family now" routine and just cooks. The menu rotates, though the four-cheese lasagna and fried chicken Vesuvio tend to stick around like they have tenure. The house SpaghettiOs arrive in an actual can, a small gesture of nostalgia that lands without anyone needing to explain it. Eater lists it among Chicago's best Italian restaurants.

Voodoo Queen Daiquiri Dive in the East End is a dive bar that also contains an arcade, a po'boy counter, and eight frozen drink machines churning like a laundromat for neon. Pool and air hockey keep the hands busy, and the menu runs to fried shrimp, hush puppies, and tater tots under roast beef. Come in jeans, split a flaming tiki boat with whoever you trust most, and expect to leave with a very green tongue.

Wally's is the Los Angeles wine-shop-turned-restaurant that crossed the desert and blended right in, which says something about both places. Brunch is a sit-down affair with avocado toast, candied bacon on brioche, and steak and eggs, plus a Reuben and thin oblong pizzas for the lunch-minded. Eater put it on its Las Vegas brunch list, and the cellar is deep enough that your server will simply pick the bottle for you.

Washing Potato is a dim sum restaurant on the Las Vegas Strip, from the person behind Hakkasan and Wagamama. The dining room sits on a raised platform with a view into two open kitchens, where cooks steam and roll dumplings by the hundreds. Black walls double as screens for swirling light shows, so even the white furniture gets a little theatrical. Expect traditional dim sum under all the lasers, plus Eater's list of top Chinese restaurants in town.