The Best Places to Eat and Stay in the United States

Perched on a bluff in Princeville with the kind of view that makes you question every life choice that led you somewhere else, this resort earns a Michelin Key by doing luxury in the new mode: no golf-blazer stuffiness, just rooms that are quietly smart, a spa and fitness setup that spares nothing, and sustainability woven in so thoroughly the jungle nearly swallows the building whole.

EEM is a Thai restaurant that also happens to run a Texas barbecue pit, which is the kind of sentence that sounds like a dare and somehow works. Brisket burnt ends land in coconut curry, and the BBQ fried rice arrives with plenty of heat. You eat at sidewalk huts or in the café-bar, pay prices that stay friendly, and tackle the tropical drinks with the urgency of people who parked six blocks away.

Red booths, a Rat Pack haze, and martinis that mean business: A Restaurant is the kind of old-school American steakhouse that Newport Beach keeps expecting someone to replace and never does. Niman Ranch pork chops and Mary's organic chicken anchor the menu alongside the steaks, and the chicken pot pie appears only on Mondays and Fridays, which somehow makes regulars plan their week around it.

Jasmine fried rice loaded with fried egg and Chinese sausage arrives under two thick slabs of smoked brisket, which is the entire thesis of this family-run barbecue spot on Highway 6. The chef turned a backyard hobby into a line that wraps around the parking lot, and the crowd moves through faster than you'd expect. Pork ribs get the same patient smoke treatment. This is the kind of place where ordering anything else feels like a distraction.

The two-story dining room pulls off a plausible New Orleans impression without leaving Baltimore, which is the whole point. This Cajun and Creole restaurant runs on the late Paul Prudhomme's influence, and the kitchen leans into Maryland pantry staples to keep the gumbo and jambalaya from feeling like a costume. The Sazerac, New Orleans' official cocktail, is on the menu, and ordering one is the correct move.

Gruyere popovers with charred onion butter have their own devoted following here, which tells you most of what you need to know about this North Loop gastropub. Foreign & Domestic has been a neighborhood fixture long enough that regulars treat the menu like a contract. Seasonal dishes rotate, but the charcuterie and those popovers don't move, and the tasting menu leans into less common cuts for anyone feeling ambitious.

Hemenway's is a seafood grill on South Main Street that recently shook off its stuffy streak and went back to the flash of its 1985 roots. The menu runs from raw bar towers and local crudo to caviar-topped waffles and stuffed lobster. It's a dress-nicely, bring-a-card sort of dinner, though the bar works fine for oysters and a glass of albariño. AAA gives it three diamonds, if you need to tell the parents.

Coastal Italian seafood in Milwaukee Junction, with exposed ceilings, soft lighting, and a ground-level view of Grand Boulevard setting the mood. The chef honed his craft at a two-Michelin-starred New York kitchen before coming home to the Great Lakes, and the menu shows it: raw oysters, salt-baked branzino, ink-dark lumache with crab and shrimp. Downstairs, a cozy bar called the Upright handles cocktails and small plates for those not committed to a full sit-down.

Seng Luangrath is widely credited with bringing Laotian food to the DC dining conversation, and this Falls Church strip-mall restaurant is where that reputation took root. The menu leans into bright, lime-forward salads, fragrant soups, and banana-leaf-wrapped fish, with a crispy coconut-rice salad that regulars treat as non-negotiable. Homestyle Laotian cooking in a room that's casual enough for a weeknight but specific enough to feel like a find.

The paper cocktail napkins tucked under the stemware haven't changed since the '90s, and that's the point. SNOB is an old-school Charleston dining room that made local, seasonal Southern cooking a serious proposition before it was a trend. Day boat fish arrives crispy outside and tender within, cornbread is non-negotiable, and the butterbeans are exactly right. The room carries its era comfortably, and the kitchen cooks like the legacy is watching.

Charleston's Lowcountry pantry filtered through a Mediterranean lens, The Grocery is a neighborhood restaurant where seasonal produce and local seafood share the menu in ways that feel natural rather than calculated. Fried oysters with deviled egg sauce have been here since day one, which tells you something about the kitchen's instincts. The room runs warm and unhurried, the kind of place locals treat like a standing reservation they never made.

The hama chili and a milk-and-cereal dessert that somehow became an Austin institution tell you exactly where Tyson Cole's priorities are. This is a polished Japanese restaurant in Rosedale with a sushi counter, a full bar, patio, and table service, so there's no wrong way to sit. The bar draws a crowd worth watching, and happy hour makes the whole upscale operation feel a little more negotiable.

A roadside Italian restaurant on the drive out to Johns Island that rewards slowing down. The menu turns with the seasons, so regulars come back often enough that the staff tends to recognize them. Pasta, charred octopus, and vegetables sourced from local farmers the chef has worked with across a long Charleston career all show up regularly. The room handles birthdays, date nights, and mothers with equal composure.

A converted gas station on Rutledge, where the bar runs down the center like a spine and the bartenders are always shaking something. Xiao Bao Biscuit is a casual dinner spot whose chef cuts across Japanese, Thai, and Chinese without pretending to be any of them, which is exactly the point. Tell your server you can handle heat, because the menu leans into it, and the bottle-aged cocktails built on Asian flavors are a reasonable extinguisher.

Mekong Palace is a big dim sum hall tucked inside the Mekong Plaza shopping center, with round tables for large groups and carts that roll past at a steady clip. The menu runs two pages, but most people just point at whatever goes by, which is the whole system. Expect a loud, happy room of families and big parties, and a smaller selection at dinner than at brunch or lunch.

A mother-and-son Cajun and soul food restaurant where the menu shifts with the day of the week: catfish on Fridays, wings on Wednesdays, Sharon's soul food the first Sunday of the month. Their Louisiana and Mississippi roots show in a shrimp étouffée that's lighter and brighter than you'd expect, and a beef debris over grits that rewards patience. Hong Kong-style praline French toast with cardamom and fennel is either the strangest thing on the menu or the most logical.

A century-old YMCA in East Liberty that local artists helped reimagine rather than just move into. The Ace is a hotel where spare, sunny rooms coexist with ornate bones, suites come stocked with turntables and acoustic guitars, and the lobby fills daily with the laptop-open, coffee-nursing crowd. The anchor bar, Whitfield, runs a neighborhood-tavern menu with meat butchered in-house from a single nearby ranch.

Hyatt's Andaz label trades the standard resort playbook for a luxury-boutique register, and at Wailea it has a coastline that does most of the heavy lifting. This is a full-scale Maui resort where the Pacific sets the mood and the property leans into it rather than competing with it. The kind of place where the surroundings are so absurdly good that a decent hotel would coast; this one declines to merely coast.

A Nani Chacon mural is the first thing you see, painted across the vintage facade of what used to be a 1965 roadside motor inn. Inside, the Palisociety has turned it into a sharp boutique hotel, with midcentury bones still visible beneath playful textiles and the kind of terracotta and turquoise palette that reads as genuinely Southwestern rather than gift-shop. Route 66 runs right outside, so the location earns its nostalgia without trying very hard.

Bare blond wood, a tight color palette, and an indoor pool that actually gets used set the tone at this boutique motel two blocks from Jackson's town square. It's a leaner, cooler alternative to the sprawling ski-lodge fantasy, with a café, a BBQ joint, and a Korean fusion restaurant on-site. Jackson Hole Mountain Resort is a short drive, and Snow King is practically next door for anyone who needs slopes before breakfast.

Check-in happens at the bar, where you're handed a cocktail before you're handed a key. Moxy Richmond Downtown is a compact, design-forward hotel where the lobby runs as a full lounge with retro games and a soundtrack, and the grab-and-go station means nobody goes hungry at midnight. Rooms are small by intention, built around walk-in showers and clever storage. The crowd skews younger, but then, so does the playlist.

Trains still pull into the station, which makes this hotel in the South Main district one of the few places you can check in and watch an Amtrak roll past the window. The rooms sit inside a restored rail terminal, part of the Curio Collection by Hilton, with a bar built around Memphis music history and a restaurant doing French brasserie cooking through a Southern lens. The neighborhood is mid-comeback, which keeps it interesting.

A converted midcentury motor lodge in Menlo Park, with the original redwood siding left right where it was. Rooms are small and honestly furnished, most opening straight onto a private patio or garden courtyard, some shaded by an old California oak. There's a fire pit, communal breakfast, and a pool, which covers everything the tech-adjacent guests here pretend they don't need before checking in anyway.

Renaissance Venice lands in Kansas City, which is either an unlikely choice or a completely logical one depending on how you feel about the Midwest's appetite for the grand gesture. The Fontaine is a boutique hotel with 132 rooms dressed in Carrara marble vanities and goose-down pillows throughout. Parker on the rooftop catches city views, and the poolside bar handles cocktails when the day tips over. The whole thing manages sophisticated without tipping into stuffy.

The Brulee Burger, with its torched sugar crust on the bun, explains the whole ethos of this Scottsdale burger shop in one order. The chef here treats fast-casual comfort food as an excuse to get weird in the best way, battering and frying patties, folding blueberry-habanero compote into guacamole, stacking corn-muffin fritters between the buns. Guy Fieri has been by, and the memorabilia is on the wall to prove it. Napkins: take several.

A family-owned resort on the edge of Mirror Lake, where the Adirondacks do their most photogenic work year-round. Gas fireplaces have quietly replaced the wood-burning ones, and the spa runs a salt-therapy room alongside a sixty-foot indoor pool. Two restaurants on-site, one more formal than the other. Lake Placid hosted the Winter Olympics, so the snow-sports infrastructure is serious, but summers here are no consolation prize. It holds a Michelin Key.

The burgers get a splash of red wine on the flat top, which is either the gimmick or the whole point depending on how you order. Harvey's is a neighborhood dive bar on 16th Street, bright green walls, pool table, jukebox, and cheap burgers that come with fries. Weekend happy hour runs weekend mornings, and last call stretches to midnight. The regulars who never needed a menu figured all this out a long time ago.

Perched on the edge of Payette Lake nearly a mile up in the Northern Rockies, Shore Lodge is a full-service resort where the rooms come with either garden or lake views and warm cookies waiting on your pillow at turndown. The lodge leans rustic but runs with real polish, and whether you're out on the water or tucked into the spa, the staff has already thought of the thing you were about to ask for.

A fish tail peeking out of a metal pot at the next table sets the tone at this no-frills Filipino homestyle spot in Woodside's Little Manila. The kitchen has been around forever, and the cooking skips any fuss: eggplant sealed in pork-threaded omelet, ginger-bright chicken soup, and chicken adobo that The Infatuation called one of New York's defining dishes. The New York Times put it at number 68 on its 2026 list of the city's 100 best restaurants.

Saguaro Corners is a casual Southwestern restaurant and bar that's been around forever, parked at the edge of the Rincon Mountains where the saguaros outnumber the strip malls. Wood-beamed ceilings, big windows, and a misted patio with live music make it feel like old Tucson rather than a theme park version of it. Comfort food with a Southwestern lean, roadrunners possibly watching you eat, and the kind of room that pulls in families and date-nighters alike.

The Arcadia Burger, topped with grilled onions, guacamole, and the house sauce, is the one to order at this drive-thru-only burger shoppe with no indoor seating whatsoever. The double-stacked patties are properly juicy, the fries are the obvious companion, and the milkshakes invite mixing flavors in combinations you'll immediately claim were your idea. Phoenix New Times put it in the top ten burger joints in town, and the neighborhood regulars roll through like they know something.

A few steps from Union Square, Ribalta is a Neapolitan pizza spot that takes its dough seriously, the kind of light, well-leavened crust that makes the New York slice feel like a different food entirely. The room is spacious and lively without being loud, and the menu runs well beyond pizza into appetizers and mains. It landed at number eight on 50 Top Pizza USA, which the regulars packing the tables on a Tuesday probably already knew.

A wood-fired Neapolitan pizza spot on Cotton Row, where the oven does the heavy lifting and the pies come out soft enough to fold the way Naples intended. The chef behind it earned 50 Top Pizza's Pizza Maker of the Year, and the restaurant itself lands at number nine on their USA list. In the Mississippi Delta, that's a sentence you don't see coming. Regulars settle in like they own the place, which is more or less the point.

Roman-style pizza by the slice is the draw here, baked in rectangular trays with a crust that's crispy on the bottom and genuinely airy inside. This is a counter-service slice shop near a hospital complex in Mineola, so the crowd skews commuters and med students who know what they're doing. Toppings lean contemporary, burrata and mortadella among them. It ranks on both 50 Top Pizza Slice USA and 50 Top Pizza World, which for a Long Island strip-mall counter is a fun fact to drop.

A cash-only Vietnamese lunch spot in a Bellaire Boulevard strip center that sets a giant pitcher of fish sauce on every table before you've said a word, which tells you what the afternoon holds. The specialty is bánh cuốn, soft rice paper crepes folded around mushrooms, grilled pork, and dried shrimp. You add the bean sprouts yourself and dunk accordingly. Bring bills, a loose waistband, and zero concern about your shirt.

A boutique hotel in the heart of Healdsburg that actually looks like it belongs in California rather than a Tuscan village someone imported by mistake. San Francisco architect David Baker designed it, and the modernist bones feel rooted to this specific corner of wine country in a way that faux-Provençal stonework never quite manages. Small, stylish, and selected by the Michelin Guide, it's a useful base for anyone who'd rather spend money on Pinot than on décor they've seen somewhere in Umbria.

A former telecommunications switching station in the Highlands district, The Bellwether is a boutique hotel where no two rooms are alike, each one designed with its own color story and character. Brick arches and vintage phones at check-in set the tone, and the French bistro downstairs layers burgundy banquettes under a salvaged police sign. The kind of place that photographs suspiciously well, but the bones are genuine.

Mid-century modern lines and a quieter perch on the west side of Vail set this upscale resort apart from the slopeside scrum. Skiing, mountain biking, and a yoga studio cover the recreation, while the 10th Mountain Lounge, a partnership with the Colorado distillery, gives drinking here a local anchor. The flagship restaurant blends American West cooking with Alpine mountain fare, which is exactly the overlap you'd want at this altitude.

A mid-century motel on the unfashionable side of the airport, renovated into a pocketbook-friendly boutique hotel well clear of the Gaslamp's stretch Escalades and valet theater. The bones are still gloriously kitschy, and the crowd skews young and loud in the best poolside sense. It's a Michelin Selected Hotel, which feels like a useful reminder that good taste doesn't always require a valet stand.

A short walk uphill from the Vineyard Haven dock, this boutique inn sits on a bluff inside an old Arts and Crafts house that once belonged to the island doctor. The new owners gutted the fussy interiors and replaced them with open living areas, polished hardwood, picture windows, and a serious art collection, Philippe Starck and Marcel Wanders among the contributors. The Michelin Guide awarded it one Key.

A grand old downtown hotel on West Markham that has been putting up presidents, celebrities, and assorted distinguished characters since the frontier era. The 94 rooms were fully redone not too long ago, and the property holds two dining rooms: Ashley's for serious, seasonal fare and the Capital Bar and Grill for cocktails and comfort food at lunch and dinner. One of Little Rock's few genuine historic stays.

A luxury resort planted deep in the red-rock canyon country near the Utah border, closer to Moab than to Aspen, which tells you something about the vibe. Rooms come with outdoor fireplaces and soaking pools, but the real draw is outside: fly fishing, river rafting, an equestrian center, and a car museum that makes the whole thing feel like it was assembled by someone with very specific passions. It was, actually, the Discovery Channel founder built it.

An old house in Tempe that may or may not be haunted, depending on how many drinks in you are. Casey Moore's is a seafood and oyster bar that's been around forever, and it draws the full cross-section of college town life, from freshmen to people who were freshmen here decades ago. The patio, the well-priced drinks, and the raw bar keep everyone coexisting peacefully, which is harder to pull off than it sounds.

A backyard in Park Slope and a margherita built on proper ingredients make Brooklyn DOP an easy neighborhood slice shop to fall into. The dough is treated with care, the format stays classic New York, and the beverage list is calibrated accordingly. The orange olive oil cake quietly outperforms every other decision you'll make that afternoon. It landed at number six on the 50 Top Pizza Slice USA list, which checks out.