The Best Places to Eat and Stay in the United States

Lines form outside this Turkish-inspired bakery and cafe before the doors open on weekends, drawn by za'atar and caramelized kouign amann scenting the street. Pastry chef Maura Kilpatrick builds her pastries from New England grains, so the simit, a sesame-crusted braided ring, tastes a little local even when it doesn't look it. The brunch and mezze menu runs to poached eggs over green garlic yogurt and baked feta, and the shelves of Mediterranean spices make the wait useful.

This is an upscale but easygoing California restaurant on Highway 101 in Solana Beach, where the produce is local and seasonal and the salads get more attention than most people give their entrees. Expect a chopped salad with soppressata in it and soup you'll order on purpose. Dress is beach-adjacent nice, and the room is full of locals who treat a Tuesday lunch like a small occasion. It holds three AAA diamonds.

The pasta is made in-house every morning, which sets the tone for the rest of the menu. Locale is a meat-forward Italian American restaurant where red sauce is taken seriously and the charcuterie board arrives before you've had a chance to look around. Dry-aged steak and bone-in short ribs share space with eggplant Parmigiana, and the kitchen sources from small American farms alongside Italian imports. Out on Blue Diamond, far from the Strip's noise.

Perched on the second floor of Pike Place Market, this compact seafood and Northwest restaurant has views over the market rooftops to the bay and a menu that leans quietly Italian these days. Lunch sandwiches, including a surprisingly good catfish, carry the same care as the dinner plates, which reflect the freshest ingredients the market below can offer. Dinner adds up fast, but nobody seems to mind much.

Nora's is an off-Strip Italian restaurant, the kind of red-sauce room locals have kept going for about as long as the Strip has been reinventing itself. The garlic bread is a dollar and bottomless, which tells you what the kitchen thinks of your appetite. Portions come out sized for sharing and then ignored. It holds AAA Three Diamonds, and the pasta everyone talks about only shows up at dinner, so plan accordingly.

This is a Mandalay Bay steakhouse where the bread basket has been replaced by complimentary duck fat fries, seasoned three ways and sent out with dips before you've touched the menu. The steaks get poached in butter before the grill, then arrive with red wine shallot butter. Tables near the entrance double as a front-row seat for convention badges rushing past, so dress for dinner and a little voyeurism.

SumoMaya is a Scottsdale fusion restaurant that treats brunch as a team sport, with unlimited shared plates and desserts and one entree per person, so pork al pastor pad Thai shows up at the same table as a carne asada scramble. Pan dulce and mini churros kick things off, and the bottomless drinks come with a two-hour limit and no switching mid-session. It's AAA Three Diamonds, in case you needed permission to order a third round.

The prime rib has been on nearly every table since the Ford administration, which tells you what kind of steakhouse this is. Dry-aged beef, clubby atmosphere, golf paraphernalia that appears entirely unironic, and service that runs like a well-maintained engine. The sides menu pulls its weight too, from loaded baked potato to wild rice with mushrooms and thyme. An old-school institution along the El Camino strip.

A Katy Freeway steakhouse that doubles as a Texas history museum, with Alamo chapel doors and Texas Ranger pistols on display between you and your dinner. Order the rib-eye and you get to walk into the butchery, pick your cut, and watch it get trimmed to order. The salad bar draws nearly as much devotion as the beef, which is a sentence you only write about Texas. Expect families and birthdays, jeans and boots.

Ropa vieja made with mushrooms instead of shredded beef sounds like a compromise until you're actually eating it. This Cuban restaurant on Moody Street leans into the roasted-meat-and-tropical-cocktail side of the menu, with drinks running toward guava, smoky rum, and tobacco notes. On a warm night, the patio is where you want to be. A James Beard semifinalist in 2024, it also holds Boston Magazine's Best Cuban nod.

Hooligan is a small Logan Square bistro that cooks the Great Lakes with French technique, which is how you end up with perch under gribiche and pike dumplings in a sauce that sounds like it has a title. The caviar service comes with crispy potatoes and house dip, a very Midwestern way to dress up fish eggs. Dinner only, a la carte or a two-person spread, and every table gets a nightly treat, so cookies and milk may be waiting.

Taan is a Thai restaurant and wine bar on West Augusta in Humboldt Park, where the menu rotates with whatever produce shows up and noodles are conspicuously absent. Fish, meat, and vegetables get cooked in traditional Thai sauces instead, with wings glazed in fish sauce caramel and a small, shifting wine list that includes bottles from Logan Square's Middle Brow. Expect the kind of neighborhood spot where nobody asks you to dress up.

The Logan Inn is a neighborhood cafe by day and a cocktail bar by night, with 28 rooms stacked overhead like an upstairs neighbor who never complains. Mornings mean Graffeo coffee, pastries, and sandwiches, then the lights drop and the martinis take over, Vesper included, with a nonalcoholic one for anyone driving or pacing themselves. Plan for a casual laptop-and-latte stop that turns into a date.

Mazor is a casual River West spot named for the ear of corn, and the menu behaves accordingly: tetelas, tacos, and tostadas, all built on masa, with a short list that suggests nobody here is hiding behind options. The chef pulls from both Mexico and Guatemala, where he grew up, and the food stays unfussy while still feeling like an occasion. Come in whatever you wore to work, and expect Eater to have already told your friends.

Star Rover is a casual, checkered-tablecloth steakhouse that moved into the old Superica space, and it has the brick walls and vintage portraits to look like it's been there since the Eisenhower years. Pick a cut, and the salad, milk rolls, fries, and onion rings arrive without negotiation. The 76-ounce challenge gets you a free meal and a photo on the wall, which is a lot of beef to trade for a photo.

A freestanding fireplace anchors the dining room at this steakhouse on a former mill site, and the front door alone stops people mid-stride. Counter service keeps the mood loose despite the chic surroundings, which is a combination Springfield seems happy to have. The setting does real work without taking itself too seriously, and the kitchen is focused on steak.

This is the West Coast outpost of a London izakaya chain, a pricey, dressed-up dinner spot inside the Guild Hotel with a boulder wall that does not mind being photographed. There's a sushi counter, a robata grill, a palm-ringed courtyard, and two bars stocked with more than 40 sakes. Expect expense-account energy and a dessert display that makes sharing feel like a negotiation.

Airstream trailers with walk-in rain showers and kitchenettes in the middle of the Mojave: that's the pitch, and AutoCamp Joshua Tree commits to it without irony. Guests choose between the trailers and permanent suites, and the gap between the two is smaller than expected, both landing somewhere between minimalist boutique hotel and very stylish mobile home. For people who want the desert without actually roughing it.

Perched over America's oldest working port, this waterfront hotel in Gloucester does classic New England maritime without apology: navy and weathered wood, fireplaces in the better suites, and ocean views that make you feel the design choices were basically inevitable. The onsite 1606 Restaurant & Oyster Bar leans into fresh Atlantic seafood, and the rooftop bar earns its keep at sunset in a way that's almost unfair to inland hotels.

A boutique hotel on a quiet SLO street, selected by the Michelin Guide, that benefits enormously from being exactly where it is. San Luis Obispo sits halfway between Los Angeles and San Francisco, which means most travelers blow past it, which means the Granada stays manageable, affordable, and genuinely pleasant to arrive at. Consider it a reward for taking the exit everyone else skips.

A hotel in Colorado Springs that lets you pitch a tent on a semi-enclosed camp deck if a proper bed feels too indoorsy. Kinship Landing is a boutique hotel built for people who came to climb something, with bunk rooms, private rooms, and suites, all in a utilitarian-chic style that stops short of trying too hard. The bar and café runs an all-day menu, and the New South End neighborhood does the rest. The Michelin Guide has it among its selected hotels.

Check-in happens at the bar on King Street, and the hotel hands you a cocktail when you arrive, which sets the tone for the whole stay. Moxy Chattanooga is a compact, design-forward hotel in the Southside neighborhood, with 108 small rooms built around modular furniture and glass-walled showers. The outdoor Railyard bar runs spring through fall. Southside's galleries and live music are walkable; the Tennessee Aquarium is a short drive.

Every room faces the marina, so you wake up deciding whether to kayak, snorkel, or book a fishing charter before coffee. Technically on Stock Island rather than Key West proper, this contemporary luxury resort has six pools and the largest rooms in the area, starting with a king bed and balcony and scaling up to two-bedroom suites. The Yellowfin Bar and Grill runs breakfast through late evening. For old-Key-West atmosphere, head west one island; for space and water toys, stop here.

Petit Soleil calls itself a "boutique bed and beverage," which tells you something about its priorities. This French-inflected B&B in San Luis Obispo sits at the edge of California's central coast wine country, and the complimentary apéritif hour feels less like a perk than a philosophical position. Rooms run Parisian in feel but not Parisian in size. The Michelin Guide has it among its selected hotels, and the patio, when the sun cooperates, is most of the point.

A former county courthouse turned boutique hotel in one of Connecticut's prettiest towns, with twenty rooms and the kind of restraint that signals Salt Hotels' touch across New England. The old courtroom is now a restaurant, all high ceilings and wood paneling, and the seasonal rooftop bar is called Verdict, which is either very clever or exactly what you'd expect, depending on your mood.

A Victorian house from the 1880s that Lark Hotels converted into a 32-room boutique hotel, The Hotel Portsmouth sits in a walkable seaside town an easy drive from Boston. The bones are all 19th-century charm, but the rooms lean contemporary, which makes a quiet statement in a region where hotels tend to treat "traditional" as a personality. Portsmouth's shops and restaurants are right outside the door.

A two-hundred-year-old house renovated with contemporary flair rather than colonial reverence, this ten-room bed-and-breakfast runs on a low-touch model: contactless check-in, self-catered breakfast, and a concierge available when you need one. Every room is a fully furnished studio apartment, which makes it feel less like a historic inn and more like a very tasteful borrowed flat. Portsmouth's restaurants, breweries, and pubs start at the front door.

Steel vaults are still bolted into every floor, left over from when this building was an actual stock exchange for mining claims. Now it's a hotel, four Italian Renaissance buildings with Art Deco touches, tin ceilings, brass railings, and a lobby anchored by a marble fireplace and an antique piano. Rooms have granite desktops, high ceilings, and stone showers with dual heads. The Wyndham flag flies out front, but the bones are very much their own.

The interior designer who runs this ten-room boutique lodge in the Catskills also lives in it, which does focus the mind. The 1960s A-frame bones stay intact while the rooms inside go full Shaker-warm, leather headboards and Brooklinen sheets. Each room reads a little differently from the last. Four acres of lawn, a lounge with an open kitchen, and weekend breakfast are the amenities, so self-sufficient guests will feel most at home.

Four freestanding tiny houses on platforms just outside Zion National Park, each one named after something suitably dramatic from scripture. The smallest runs under 300 square feet, which sounds snug until you remember the hot tub, the fire pit, and the fact that Zion's canyon walls are essentially your backyard. The Michelin Guide has selected it, which feels like the universe rewarding someone for thinking small.

Carl's is a two-sided counter with sixteen stools, a griddle, and staff who treat small talk as a clerical error. The burgers are lacy, paper-thin things, so you order a double the way you'd order a second coffee, and the housemade root beer comes along without discussion. The tamales under chili are a pleasant surprise. Bring cash, and if anyone asks about the Shake Shack rumor, you didn't hear it from me.

The neon chef flipping pancakes above the door has been a landmark on East Colfax long enough to outlast everything around it. Pete's Kitchen is a classic diner, the kind that keeps the grill going through the night on weekends for whoever needs a gyros omelet or a green chile smothered burrito at 3 a.m. The crowd that fills the stools tends to tell a story. Westword named it Denver's best late-night diner.

Atomic Museum photos and artwork line the walls of this sprawling brewery taproom and restaurant in Centennial Hills, where the theme commits fully to the bit. Twenty-six taps run from stouts and barleywine to pineapple cider, and the food holds its own: pastrami sandwiches, pork belly street tacos, and a roster of pizzas. Two patios with ping pong and cornhole make it clear nobody here is in a hurry to leave.

Beaumont's American Tavern is a 200-seat Lincoln Park restaurant that took over an old Halsted Street space and filled it with the kind of menu your grandfather would call "proper food." Downstairs runs on pub burgers, shrimp and grits, and fresh pasta, while a steakhouse called the Bull Moose sits upstairs, which is a lot of square footage for a tavern. Expect mid-range prices and a sticky toffee pudding built for sharing.

Cat kitsch lines the shelves at this neighborhood restaurant and bodega in Raleigh, where a team of five local culinary figures pooled their talent and built something that feels both familiar and hard to place. The menu reads Southern but veers into duck-fat fried wings with harissa and honey, cornbread with curry leaf butter, and charred cabbage over tofu pesto. The New York Times put it on their 2026 Restaurant List, which tracks.

By the Sea is a big Mediterranean-leaning restaurant on Orange Avenue in Coronado, done up in white oak, rattan, and cobblestones shipped over from Italy, which is a lot of luggage for a seaside lunch. The menu runs to seafood platters, a meze spread built around house-fermented pita, and a dry-aged rib-eye for anyone who wandered in from the golf course. Expect resort-town casual with a reservation habit, and cocktails that arrive smoking.

Carne and Hueso is a sit-down Mexican restaurant in North Park, run by two sisters cooking Indigenous dishes from Puebla, Jalisco, and Oaxaca. The moles come in blanco, negro, and rojo, and the birria follows a recipe from their grandfather's place in Guadalajara. Weekend brunch hands the first dozen tables free pan de muerto, which is a real incentive to be the person who arrives early. The bar leans on Mexican spirits and house syrups.

Fried catfish on white bread with hush puppies or collard greens on the side, served out of a former fast-food shell on East Colfax, is the whole pitch here, and it lands. This is a counter-service soul food spot where the staff are warm and the portions are not modest. Barbecue, chicken gizzards, and Sunday-only chitlins round out a menu rooted in Oklahoma tradition that the team is clearly not shy about.

Warm broth arrives first at this seven-table multicourse speakeasy on the Cumberland River, and whatever's in it will probably confuse you before it convinces you. Scallops, paprika, and strawberries, say, or horseradish oil wrapped around aged tuna belly with local melon. The chef's palate is the whole point: combinations that read like a dare on paper land as inevitable on the plate. The New York Times named it to their 2026 Restaurant List.

Taiwanese bubble tea chain Chatime lets you build your drink from the ground up, dialing in sweetness level, swapping to dairy-free, and piling on popping pearls or lychee jelly until it's exactly your problem. The UNLV-adjacent shop pours milk teas, fruit teas, and brown sugar pearl drinks to a crowd that has strong opinions about boba. A second location in the Arts District is already in the works.

Chef Fei is a casual stir-fry restaurant inside the Westfield UTC mall, which is not where you'd expect a wok to be doing its best work. It's the first U.S. outpost of a China-based chain with more than 200 locations back home, where pork gets top billing. Here the menu leans toward beef, including a wagyu stir-fry with broccoli and bell peppers. Eater put it on its list of the best new restaurants in and around San Diego.

Twelve seats, a polycultural farm and vineyard outside the city, and ceramic dishes thrown from clay dug on the property: the scene is set before the food even arrives. Chef Tae Strain runs a tasting menu where the farm supplies much of what lands on the counter, with Korean-inflected technique quietly threading through each course. The New York Times put it on their 2026 Restaurant List, and the Burnt Hill wines poured between courses are made right outside the window.

A 24-seat Japanese listening den in the Arts District where the only soundtrack is vinyl and the TVs run anime on loop. Ring the buzzer, join the wait list, and eventually find yourself inside walls plastered with Japanese posters while the cocktail program works through whisky, sake, tequila, and shochu. From the team behind Nocturno, it drinks like a speakeasy that got very specific taste very fast.

Concrete Rose is a cocktail bar in the old Purse Building, right across from the ballpark, built around agave spirits. The menu leans on tequila and mezcal, with drinks involving mole and tomatillo that sound like a dare. There are no dress codes or bottle service, but there are vinyl nights, and the bar bites run from beet tacos to fish crudo, so dinner is covered if you commit.

The dining room alone causes arguments: depending on your table, you're sitting in sun-drenched whimsy, blood-red velvet, or the amber spill of an open Basque grill. Dalia is a Spanish restaurant that treats Spain as a starting point rather than a period piece, so calamari stand in for noodles in a riff on dan dan, and patatas bravas arrive as lacquered, shatteringly crisp pavé cubes. The New York Times named it to their 2026 Restaurant List.

A full-service butcher shop and deli in the southwest valley, built around the Bronx meat-market upbringing of the chef behind it. Pasture-raised, grass-fed beef comes directly from ranches in Arizona, Missouri, and South Dakota, ground in-house for the burger or sliced for a chicken Parm sandwich. Rotisserie chicken and steak frites round out the deli menu. It's the kind of neighborhood place Las Vegas isn't supposed to have.

A movable wall conceals this cocktail bar and small-plates spot behind a family portrait inside Buddy Valastro's Italian restaurant at the Venetian. Green banquettes, cafe tables, and walls thick with photographs give it the feel of a room that's been there forever, even if the secret door suggests otherwise. The menu runs to charcuterie, little panini, and lobster fritto misto, with desserts closing things out on a sweet, unhurried note.

Don Maguro is a casual Japanese spot in a Mira Mesa shopping center, where the kaisen don comes with nori sheets, an egg yolk, and a clear fish bone broth, so lunch turns into a small DIY project. The soup can be sipped alone, poured over the last of the rice, or mixed with the yolk first, a choice that feels weightier than it should. Eater named it one of San Diego's best new restaurants.

Dubu Tofu is a casual Korean soft tofu stew spot in Rancho Bernardo, from the team behind Sot BBQ. The rice arrives in a metal pot on a wooden stand, scooped out so the bottom can crisp and blacken, then barley tea goes in at the end for a soup course nobody asked for but everyone finishes. The kimchi pancake is roughly frisbee-sized. It made Eater's list of the best new restaurants in San Diego.