The Best Places to Eat and Stay in the United States

The bar and patio at City Park Golf Course overlooks the fairways and the Denver skyline, which is a combination most dedicated nineteenth holes can't claim. It's a casual sports bar setup with TVs inside and cold, cheap beer either direction, drawing golfers waiting for a tee time and golfers celebrating surviving one. The food is solidly fine. The view does most of the heavy lifting, and at a municipal course, nobody's complaining.

The kitchen inside Crescent Ballroom wraps burritos in foil and marks them with stickers bearing faces like Morrissey and Mr. Bean, which tells you most of what you need to know. This Sonoran Mexican spot was shaped by Chris Bianco of Pizzeria Bianco fame, and it runs until midnight, so the crowd skews toward concertgoers and touring bands who just rolled off I-10. Sonoran dogs, tacos, nachos, and burritos, done with more care than the venue setting suggests.

A grilled pimento cheese sandwich and 24 taps anchor this low-key beer garden on the east end of Deep Ellum, where the patio comes equipped with heaters in winter and misters in summer, which is thoughtful given that Dallas has about nine months of summer. The beer selection runs deep into local cans and rotating taps, the bartenders actually know what's on them, and Wednesday brings a small Miller High Life with a Jameson shot for anyone who needs a Wednesday reason.

The strip-mall address on East Alameda is doing this Italian restaurant no favors, but the inside goes full fine-dining with veal marsala, house pasta, and pizzas that take themselves seriously. The kitchen also folds in the brothers' Mexican heritage on the brunch menu, which keeps things from getting too reverent. Regulars apparently start with the calamari and work backward from there.

Noodles pulled and cooked in-house is a rarity in Colorado, and Dragonfly Noodle makes them on the premises, which gives the ramen a texture that dried product simply can't fake. This casual noodle shop on the 16th Street Mall works its way across Asia, moving from Japanese ramen to Singaporean, Vietnamese, and Taiwanese dishes. The broths run deep and traditionally built, with just enough tinkering to keep things interesting.

A walk-up sandwich counter tucked at the end of a thin alley in Five Points, with old photos of famous Dukes lining the path to the window. The menu runs to four sandwiches, which sounds like a dare until you see the chopped cheese, a New York import of griddle-smashed beef and white cheddar on a soft hoagie with pepperoncini. Naming your place "Good Sandwiches" is either false modesty or excellent bait.

Dumpling House is a casual neighborhood spot in Hillsboro Village where the dumplings are made fresh and the dress code is whatever you walked in wearing. The pan-fried chicken and coriander ones get the most talk, though the menu has plenty of company. It reads like a place you could have been going to for years, even if tonight is your first visit. The Nashville Scene gave it Best Dumpling Menu, which is a very specific honor to hold.

A serpentine bar stocked floor-to-ceiling with tequila and cerveza anchors the main room at this Latin nightclub on Central Avenue, where resident DJs rotate through reggaeton, cumbia, salsa, and bachata until 3 a.m. or later. The $10 door gets you the dance floor; $20 buys plush couches and bottle service on the VIP side. A michelada and taco bar rounds things out for anyone who needs a breather.

A food hall just west of Denver where you can walk in for tacos, stay for Ethiopian, and leave with a new tattoo if the afternoon really gets away from you. The layout is easygoing enough that grabbing a drink first while you decide where to eat feels like the obvious move. Vendors rotate and grow, so there's usually something new to investigate alongside the regulars.

The huaraches here come on hand-pressed masa that's thick enough to hold its shape under a pile of toppings, queso fresco, onion, and cilantro. This casual Mexican counter runs through tacos, tortas, burritos, and those huaraches all day, with carne asada and al pastor doing the heavy lifting. The building from the outside makes no promises, but the salsas inside range from warm to genuinely alarming, which seems to be the point.

The green chile here is a gravy-thick, pork-studded Colorado classic that regulars order straight up with tortillas, no plate required. El Tejado is an old-school Mexican diner on South Broadway, and the room does look a bit like a cartoon cave, which somehow suits it. The hot version of that chile is a separate proposition entirely, built in layers rather than just spiked, and it will find your limits.

The Spring Fling cake, a zucchini bread layer frosted with cream cheese icing and piled with fresh fruit, was the calling card of a beloved Denver institution for decades. When that place closed, the head baker struck out on his own, and now his family-run bakery in west Denver keeps the recipe alive year-round. People fly in from out of state for that cake alone, which is either a testament to nostalgia or to zucchini bread's untapped potential.

Oysters grilled over open fire are the opening argument at this wood-fired seafood spot in RiNo. The kitchen runs on smoke and a crowd that seems constitutionally opposed to sitting still, with counter seats for ceviche and mussels and bigger plates when you're feeling ambitious. Beer-battered cod and whole striped bass share the menu without any pretense of fine dining. Loud, casual, and comfortable with itself.

Flat Tire Diner is a no-frills breakfast and lunch spot in Old Hickory, the kind of place where the wait for a table is part of the experience and the staff turn tables so briskly you forget you stood there. Bread for the sandwiches and burgers is baked in-house, and the French toast gets a corn-flake crust and a pile of fresh fruit. Nashville Scene once named it the Best Reason to Go to Old Hickory, which is a narrow field, admittedly.

A dedicated server circulates with a tray of 200-milliliter stanges and marks each round on your coaster, just as they would in Cologne, only with a warmer disposition than the legendary köbes of the Rhine. Fritz Family Brewers is a brewery in Niwot that takes its Kölsch service seriously enough to assign one person to nothing else. Cover your glass when you've had enough, if you ever decide you've had enough.

Gabby's is a no-frills burger counter that was smashing patties onto a hot griddle back when that wasn't yet a personality trait for every new restaurant in town. The menu stays short: grass-fed burgers, hot dogs, fries, and shakes, with a secret menu named after regulars, though you'll have to know the password. Nashville Scene gave it a Best of Nashville for Best Burger. Order at the counter, wear whatever you like.

The password comes from the barista at Stir Coffee upstairs, which is a reasonable amount of theater for a cocktail bar tucked below a strip mall. Gin & Reel leans hard into the speakeasy aesthetic, and the basement room does pull off a convincing other-era feeling despite the square footage. Cocktails skew citrusy and creative, and charcuterie or pizza is available to pace yourself. Weekends fill fast, and the two-hour limit keeps things moving whether you're ready or not.

Gio's Chicago Pizza is a deep-dish operation run out of a commissary kitchen in the Nations, which makes it a little like finding Chicago hiding in a warehouse. The chef came up through fine dining and a suburban Chicago pizzeria, so the deep dish arrives properly tall and heavy. There's also a thinner tavern-style pie cut into squares, for those who think a knife and fork are overkill. Nashville Scene named it Best Deep Dish in 2023.

The curry is the reason regulars keep coming back, which surprises people who think of Vietnam and curry in the same sentence as a typo. This strip-mall Vietnamese spot in Aurora has been serving pho and homey staples forever, but the house curry, built on madras powder, coconut milk, and a heavy hand with lemongrass, lands somewhere all its own. Nothing Thai about it, nothing Indian, just a dish that makes the menu feel longer than most.

Five feet of fried mozzarella sticks is the opening argument here. Happiest Hour is a sprawling bar and grill near the American Airlines Center, with a rooftop full of lounge seating, a big downstairs bar, and a lawn spilling out between them. It is loud and unapologetically crowd-pleasing, the kind of place that doesn't wait for you to have fun. Ample TVs cover every game, and the pregame energy rarely fully leaves.

The menu comes with a warning: "Hot, not recommended for the first-time visitor." This no-frills Thai spot takes that seriously, leaning on Thai chiles the way other places lean on salt. Green curry, larb, drunken noodles, and pineapple fried rice all land with real heat beneath the lemongrass and galangal. Order mild if you want to taste dinner rather than survive it.

Killjoy is a small nonalcoholic bottle shop in East Nashville, shelves lined with zero-proof spirits, wines, and beers. Since nothing in the building will get anyone in trouble, you can taste before you buy, which is how you find out if alcohol-free sparkling rosé is for you. It also hosts trivia nights, book clubs, and dating events, so the name is doing a lot of ironic work. Nashville Scene gave it Best Proof That Zero-Proof Isn't Boring.

Killjoy is a small, sparkly bottle shop where every spirit, wine, and beer on the shelves has had the alcohol removed, which makes it legal to sample before you buy. That's handy for deciding whether a nonalcoholic sparkling rosé is your thing. It also hosts trivia nights, book clubs, author talks, and dating events, all sober. The name is a joke the place keeps telling by being good company. Nashville Scene gave it a Best of Nashville nod.