The Best Places to Eat and Stay in the United States

Mr. Beef is a no-frills Italian beef stand, and the building you'll recognize as the exterior of The Bear's sandwich shop, though the cameras only borrowed the outside. The beef gets cooked on-site rather than reheated from a bag, which Chicagoans treat as a matter of principle. Expect a line, a cheap sandwich you'll eat standing up, and a wall of celebrity photos to study while you wait.

Beijing duck carved tableside is the move at Mr. Chow, the Beverly Hills fine dining institution that helped reframe what Chinese food could look like in America. The room leans glamorous, the prices lean ambitious, and the clientele leans toward people who treat both as a given. Dumplings, hand-pulled noodles, and stir-fries round out a menu that draws from upscale pre-revolution Chinese cooking rather than the takeout canon. Steely Dan wrote about it, which tells you something.

A grab-and-go musubi counter inside the Aqua Pacific Monarch Hotel, with the largest menu of the three Waikīkī locations. Fresh rice gets packed around fried chicken, salmon with roe, or any number of Spam variations, including one loaded with avocado, bacon, and egg that operates as a breakfast sandwich in musubi form. The space is small, the turnover is fast, and the whole operation runs on the principle that rice pressed around a good filling is a complete argument.

A Korean noodle shop on Bellaire Blvd, imported from LA's Koreatown, that has the casual, order-at-the-counter feel of a food court at a mega-spa. The handmade cold noodles, chewy and tinted green from chlorella, arrive in bowls piled with spice, funky kimchi, and cold vegetables. In a city that's hot as hell most of the year, it's a filling meal that won't leave you crawling to your car.

Naia is a Greek-leaning, see-and-be-seen restaurant on the Chicago River, and the view is good enough that the kitchen could have phoned it in. It didn't, which is how you end up with crab on the falafel and caviar offered for the potato fritters. There's a roving hummus cart and a cheese course that catches fire, so dress like someone who expects to be looked at, and be ready for the next yacht to steal your attention.

Nolita Hall is a big, loud Italian American restaurant and bar at the quiet north end of Little Italy, away from the strip. It runs on a wood-fired oven, a horseshoe bar, communal tables, and projector screens for the game, with a fireplace lounge in between, so every mood in your group has a place to sit. Midweek there's a Girl Dinner deal with vodka pasta and an espresso martini.

Oba Boba is a boba trailer, a chrome Airstream permanently parked in Downtown Summerlin with a boba-sipping panda on the side and a colorful window that does all the business. Milk teas, lemonades, and seasonal drinks come with adjustable sweetness, and a bag of chips or a Cup O' Noodles covers the savory side. It's a quick, cheap stop, and parking nearby is a small act of faith. It's on Eater's list of the best restaurants in Downtown Summerlin.

Officina is a multi-story Italian restaurant on the Wharf, and the second-floor dining room looks like a Campari ad, all art deco light fixtures and golden-green everything. The menu roams the whole country with a strong lean toward seafood, plus housemade pastas for when you want a linguine that stays on message. Upstairs, a plant-filled terrace gets a lovely view south and a less lovely one of the overpass north. Dress like you're in Milan.

One Roast is a Cantonese-style roast meat counter on Bellaire Blvd that, unlike most of its takeout-only neighbors, has actual diner seating, so you can eat the duck before it cools in a bag. The three-meat plate is the move, with portions generous and prices modest. The good stuff sells out before closing, so treat 6pm as a deadline. The pineapple slushie is for people who finish early.

Zaba's is a Vegas-born mini chain in Downtown Summerlin, the kind of counter-service Mexican grill where you build a bowl, burrito, or quesadilla by choosing a protein and pointing at things. Grilled shrimp, shredded beef, and battered fish all get a turn. The Valencia heat tacos toss orange slices in chile powder, which sounds like a dare and eats like a plan. Wear whatever you wore to the farmers market, and expect to be out in twenty minutes.

Pachi-Pachi is an izakaya-style lounge near Fremont East, which means the drinks and the snacks get equal billing and nobody pretends to be there for just one. Hand rolls, katsu sandos, and fried deviled eggs you can spike with wasabi sit alongside highballs and a martini infused with kimchi and nori. The pub burger arrives under molten Japanese beer cheese, a combination that sounds like a dare and eats like a plan.

Pal's is a seafood restaurant tucked against a yacht club at the far end of Hayden Island, which means you get the marina views without the dock fees or the mildew. Oyster platters and seafood towers sit alongside calamari nachos, a combination that sounds like a dare and goes down easily. It's a casual, convivial spot, best timed so the sun drops into the Columbia while a paloma is in your hand.

Pancho's is a Mexican restaurant that came to Summerlin from Southern California, and it brought the margarita list with it. More than forty tequilas sit behind the bar, plus a Cadillac or two, and the decor is lush enough that you'll feel overdressed in a ball cap. Daily happy hour covers the chicken-and-cheese egg rolls, and the combination plates of enchiladas and tamales arrive without any reinvention.

Papa Noodle is a fast, casual Chinese noodle shop a short walk from a good chunk of SoMa's office towers, which explains the lunch-hour line of people holding badges. The menu is a handful of bowls, including pork or chicken noodles, beef noodle soup, and a vegan option, with noodles made daily. Every order comes with a White Rabbit candy, the closest thing to a dessert menu or a raise.

Peaches HotHouse is a casual Bed-Stuy counter-service spot for Nashville hot chicken, back when that was a rare find in the city and long before the chains with celebrity backing showed up. You pick your heat (regular, hot, extra hot) and your bird, shrimp, or catfish, then add grits and collards. Dress for a paper-lined basket and a mild sweat. Eater lists it among the best places to eat in the neighborhood.

Petite Edith is a French bistro on the ground floor of a luxury apartment building, which means the neighbors can claim it without ever putting on a coat. The big U-shaped bar seats solo diners comfortably, and the banquettes in back suit a quiet dinner for two. The kitchen takes French classics through a Midwestern filter, so you get two kinds of bread, and brunch brings duck fat hash browns.

The broth at this Chinatown pho shop has been going since 1987, and regulars treat it accordingly, never opening a menu. A sprawling Southern Vietnamese lineup covers nearly 60 dishes, but the namesake bowl, available in more than two dozen variations, is the reason most people brave the line. The imperial egg rolls, crisp and stuffed with pork and wood ear mushrooms, make a strong case for arriving hungry enough to order both.

Fruit tarts are the whole point at this Taiwanese bakery in Alhambra, where the crusts are milled from Tehachapi Sonora wheat and the fillings lean on local farms, including strawberries from Harry's Berries. The chef trained at Le Cordon Bleu and did time at Milo and Olive, and the drinks menu runs single-origin espresso, hojicha, and seasonal sparkling sodas alongside. A focused, careful little shop doing one thing with very deliberate ingredients.

Pink Tiger is a Wharf cocktail bar and restaurant where everything arrives in some shade of rose, from the patio umbrellas to the drinks, which seem to have been color-matched to the walls. The menu wanders between Southeast Asian, American, and Mediterranean ideas, so go in with a loose itinerary. Expect a dressed-up, mildly flamingo crowd and a tab that matches the waterfront address.

Pizzana is a Neapolitan-leaning pizzeria on West Gray, a Los Angeles import that gave Houston its own Tex-Mex pie with spiced porchetta and a chipotle salsa. The cacio e pepe pizza made the trip too, along with a Negroni di Napoli and a ranch water that knows where it is. You can also buy the dough to go for $5, in case River Oaks wants to pretend it made dinner.

Planta Queen is an upscale vegan restaurant on North Clark, part of a chain that dresses its plant-based menu in design-forward rooms. The sushi stands in for fish with eggplant, watermelon, and carrots, which is a lot of faith in a carrot. Monday brings unlimited maki for $35, and lunch has a two-course special. Expect a polished crowd that came for dinner, not a lecture.

This is a small oyster bar with an outsized patio, parked a few steps from the Wharf's fish market, where the barge bobs and the air does some of the marketing. It's run by the oyster growers whose name is on the door, so the bivalves have a short commute. Weekday happy hour from 4 to 6 puts oysters at $2 and clams at $1.50, which tourists and locals both do the math on.

Reggies is a heavy metal bar and live music venue that happens to serve jumbo, crispy, sauce-soaked chicken wings, which is a sentence you don't often get to write. Rock, rap, and metal shows fill the stage, with the odd cover band, and the rooftop deck runs on heat lamps once the weather turns. Expect fried pickles, sandwiches, and a respectable beer list, plus a dress code best described as band shirt.

Duck fesenjoon with pomegranate and walnuts is the kind of dish that makes you wonder why Persian food doesn't get more attention in this city. Rumi's Kitchen is a full-service Persian restaurant that started in Atlanta and has landed at Westfield Century City, bringing herb-heavy stews, saffron-marinated kebabs, and a menu that reads like a very convincing argument for going somewhere other than the food court upstairs.

Sam's Place is a wine bar in a Highland Park bungalow with no website, no social media, and apparently no interest in either. Locals arrive with their dogs and split a platter of sausage, crusty bread, and cornichon butter alongside natural or Old World pours. Wood paneling keeps things cozy, weekends fill up without turning rowdy, and the bar steak is there if a snack plate doesn't count as dinner.

Enrique Olvera's Casamata group opened this seafood-forward Mexican restaurant in a space that has been an Olvera address before, which is either poetic or just convenient real estate. Chef Chuy Cervantes runs the kitchen, sending out mariscos that make a strong case for the coastal zip code: local rockfish ceviche, Dungeness crab tostada with furikake, oysters with turnip salsa. Wine, beer, and cocktails round it out.

This is a family-run Mexican spot on the Tigard stretch of Pacific Highway, a counter-service taqueria with a panaderia attached and a price tag that won't make you check your balance. The burritos arrive at roughly the size of a throw pillow, and the rice and beans migrate across the plate like they're settling new territory. A glass wall of pan dulce guards the door, which makes leaving without a bag nearly impossible. Eater has it on its list of the best restaurants and food carts in Portland.

Schneider Deli is a counter-service Jewish deli tucked into the old Ohio House Motel diner, where the midcentury bones survived the renovation and so did the booths. Breakfast runs from corned beef hash to bagels with lox, then lunch turns to pastrami, brisket, and turkey sliced to order while you watch. Casual, quick, and priced like a sandwich shop, which is the correct amount of money for a deli.

Seia is a contemporary Italian restaurant on the 54th floor of a Brickell skyscraper, where floor-to-ceiling windows frame the skyline, Biscayne Bay, and the Atlantic beyond. The menu leans on handmade pastas and seafood, with an Italian wine list and cocktails to match. Expect a dressed-up room of date nights, anniversaries, and people whose phones come out before the bread does. Eater lists it among the best restaurants in Brickell.

Seville is a rooftop Mediterranean restaurant on top of a Hilton, which sounds like a warning and mostly isn't. The menu leans on tapas, pasta, fish, and pinsa, all sized for splitting, so it suits coworkers on the company card and out-of-town friends who just got talked into the Skydeck. The big patio gets you the Loop skyline without pressing your face against glass. The Infatuation lists it among the Loop's best.

Sexy Steak lives in the old Grand Army of the Republic Building downtown, where you pick your own cut from a case lined with Himalayan salt, like choosing a lobster, but for people who'd rather not. Everything is halal, the wagyu runs Japanese and American, and the menu also wanders into Italian dishes, seafood, and oysters. Expect a steakhouse bill and a lounge upstairs, plus a wine list built for the Napa cabs and Bordeaux.

Shelby is a basement cocktail bar in the Financial District, where finding the door is the first round of the evening. Downstairs, the drinks run from a proper espresso martini to a pineapple Averna negroni riff, backed by shared plates like beef tartare and a mushroom dish that politely impersonates escargot. It was a James Beard semifinalist for outstanding bar program. Book on Resy so you only get lost once.

The menu calls them "Sichuan ravioli," which tells you everything about the vibe here. This old-school International District Chinese restaurant has been serving homestyle Sichuan long before hot pot chains made the cuisine trendy in Seattle, and the approach hasn't changed much: big plates, ropy noodles, a pepper-reddened boiled fish that sounds mild and isn't, and portions sized like someone's grandmother is worried you look thin.