The Best Places to Eat in the United States

Tables sit on burlap coffee bags pressed under thick glass, and the dining room fills with tall greenery, so the room already has a point of view before the food arrives. This is a contemporary Ethiopian restaurant where the kitchen swaps beef for tuna in the kifto and keeps a long roster of vegan dishes most spots skip. Honey wine and craft Ethiopian beer round out a meal that the San Francisco Chronicle has put on its Top 100 list.

Fried chicken and Chartreuse slushies share a menu here, which tells you everything about the spirit of this neighborhood bistro on Grand Avenue. The team behind the Morris in San Francisco brought their seafood-and-ferment instincts across the Bay, and the result is a wine bar with exposed brick, a vine-covered back patio, and wood-fired mussels that make the whole premise feel inevitable. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the top 100 restaurants in the Bay Area.

The roadhouse on the St. Helena highway that turned a working kitchen garden into a wine country institution. Cindy Pawlcyn's casual American grill runs from grilled fish and steaks to a smoked pork sandwich, all pulled through a seasonal, garden-driven lens. The lemon-lime tart, described on the menu itself as "ridiculously tall," delivers on the promise. There's usually a wait at lunch, which says everything about the regulars who keep coming back.

A vegan sushi bar and izakaya in the Mission where the kitchen treats a vegetable as a puzzle to solve rather than a garnish to apologize for. The team ferments, pickles, and sears produce into nigiri, rolls, and ramen that hold their own on the merits, not on goodwill. The room is sleek and lively, drawing skeptics alongside the converted. A Michelin Selected Restaurant.

Raoul's has been on Prince Street since before SoHo had a real estate pitch, and the art-crammed walls still feel like a bohemian time capsule in the best possible, no wait, a very specific way: the kind of French bistro where regulars order without looking up and the tableside hot fudge on profiteroles arrives like a point being made. The cooking is French American, the vibe is lived-in, and the cocktails arrive before the nostalgia sets in.

The autographed headshots of old-school celebrities on the walls set the tone: this is a Fisherman's Wharf seafood restaurant that makes no apologies for being exactly what it is. Families from two hours outside the city have been cycling through for generations, and the wood-paneled bar and white-jacketed servers keep the scene feeling frozen in amber. The clam chowder is generous where it counts, and the cioppino comes in a "Lazy Man's" version with the shellfish already shelled.

The hojicha canelé, flavored with roasted green tea and whiskey, tells you everything you need to know before you've found a seat. The Wayland Mill is an all-day café on the ground floor of a Wallingford office building, where the chef's Japanese heritage, Midwest upbringing, and years running Seattle restaurants converge on one menu. The Saint Paul Sando alone, a riff on St. Louis Chinese-American egg foo young pressed into precise tamago on shokupan, has made it a James Beard semifinalist.

Banh Mi Hue Thai is a takeout sandwich counter on Garvey Avenue, where the baguette does most of the talking. It's thin-crusted and airy enough to crinkle when you bite it, without shredding the roof of your mouth, so even the house special with cold cuts tastes good. There's one table inside, which is more of a suggestion than a dining room, and it's cash only. Make a stop at the ATM first. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best bánh mì across America.

BBAD is a daytime counter in Pasadena that stands for Breakfast Burritos All Day, and it commits to the bit with a menu of just four burritos. The tortillas are wrapped tight enough to hold a full breakfast plate, soft eggs, crispy potato that can pass for bacon, and slow-roasted pork with a tart tomatillo salsa on the side. The Infatuation put the chile verde burrito on its list of the best breakfast burritos in America.

Bebe Zito is a pint-sized ice cream shop in Minneapolis where the spoons change color and the flavors reference both Brazilian desserts and a childhood spent near a cereal aisle. Guava swirls into cream cheese custard, Fruity Pebbles get caramelized, and a flight lets the indecisive sample widely. The burgers come out of a food truck parked in the alley, which is a bold move for a place with this much sprinkle exposure. It's on The Infatuation's list of the best ice cream in America.

Cafe Los Feliz is a neighborhood bakery and cafe on Hillhurst, where the line for the soujuk breakfast burrito is a cross-section of Los Angeles. Soujuk is a spicy, dry-cured Armenian sausage, and it arrives with salsa and chipotle aioli in case the kick wasn't loud enough. Locals and the occasional TV face queue up in the same sunglasses, which in this city counts as an equalizer. It's counter service, so wear whatever you slept in.

Casa Bake is a warehouse bakery tucked into a strip of units off SW 47th, where the croissants cost $3.50 and nobody has to put "artisanal" in a headline to justify it. The plain one is the move, flaky enough to shed on your shirt, and it pairs well with a cappuccino. There are almond and pistachio-cream versions too, plus classes if you'd like to find out how much butter is involved. The Infatuation put it on a national croissant list.

Cowy Burger is a Miami smashburger counter in a scene where half the internet seems to be filming the same fist-on-beef routine. The patties here are pressed so thin they're nearly a rumor, and the move is the one with bacon jam, sweet and chunky in a way that sounds like a band you'd tell your nephew to quit. Come in whatever you're wearing, expect to eat with your hands, and plan on a line.

Cuzzy's is a kitschy ice cream parlor in South Philly where the flavors read like a dare from someone who's never been told no, such as banana with black sesame and peanut butter, or Rice Krispie with cinnamon goo. Vanilla and chocolate-chocolate cake are always on hand for the traditionalists. Add sprinkles and Oreo whipped cream, and take a few pints home. The Infatuation named it the best ice cream in America.

DCity Smokehouse is a counter-service barbecue spot on Good Hope Road, and its smoked wings are the ones that end the dry-rub versus saucy argument. The skin comes crisp, seasoned with a house blend that lands somewhere between salty and sweet, and every sauce arrives on the side, including a cilantro ranch and a Carolina-meets-mumbo mix that is very much a DC compromise. Bring the friend who has opinions.

Deep City is a Lake Street breakfast spot built around plate-sized pancakes, one per order, griddled just past golden by the chef who made them famous in town. The menu runs to buttermilk, buckwheat, and a gingerbread-spiced version, and each plate arrives with a whole jug of Vermont maple syrup. A former vice president once ate here and then found change on the sidewalk, which is the kind of luck a pancake place can't promise.

Dudley Market is a Venice seafood restaurant a short walk from the sand, where the move is a few oysters followed by a burger that arrives with caramelized onion-bacon jam. The Infatuation put that burger on its list of the best in America. Expect sunglasses worn indoors by people who are not squinting at anything, and a bill that assumes you flew in from somewhere with a different zip code.

Golden Pride is a counter-service New Mexican spot on Central Avenue where locals recite their order by number, and the number is usually 9. That's egg, cheddar, hashbrown and bacon in a flour tortilla, with real Hatch green chile doing the heavy lifting. It's about as cheap as breakfast gets in Albuquerque, and The Infatuation ranks that burrito ninth on its national list. Plan on eating it fast, since the tortilla peaks in minutes.

Grass Cattle Company is a farm's burger tent at the Burlington Farmers Market, where Saturday brings a line of shoeless people and their dogs trying to queue single file. The patties come straight from the farm's own herd, and the farmer is usually on hand to explain what the cows ate. The breakfast burger adds a fried egg and an English muffin from a vendor a few tents over. It's cash-in-your-pocket, eat-it-standing-up food.

Hellenika is a small gelato counter tucked into the Pike Place Market area, where the cultured gelato gets churned right in front of you. It leans toward Greek yogurt, so expect a sour tang and restrained sweetness rather than a sugar rush, in flavors like lemon curd and coconut ube. Downtown Seattle once offered only mystery soft serve, so the bar was low. The Infatuation named it The Best Ice Cream In America.

This is a scoop shop on Cape Cod with dozens of flavors, avocado and brownie batter sharing a case with vegan, non-dairy, sugar-free, and gluten-free options. The line often spills out the door and onto the deck in the late afternoon, but it moves fast. Black raspberry, peppermint stick, and maple walnut are all in play, and you can add salt-water taffy for a dessert after your dessert. The Infatuation put it on its Best Ice Cream In America list.

Isaac's Cafe is a no-frills Mexican breakfast counter in Wilmington, across the street from the longshoreman dispatch hall, which explains why its signature burrito is named after the place and sized for people who move freight for a living. It's stuffed with rice, beans, eggs, bacon, and enough avocado to raise questions at customs. The Infatuation put it on its list of America's best breakfast burritos.

Izola is a downtown bakery and cafe where the croissants run oversized and the bibimbap version arrives on a wooden slab, stuffed with bulgogi and gingery sauce, closer to lunch than pastry. The plain croissants hold up fine too. The owner also reverse-engineered the well water from his Kansas hometown so it could come out of a tap here, which is a lot of effort for something most people would just filter. It made The Infatuation's list of croissants across America.

A snug downtown Fargo burger-and-beer joint where the quarter-pound patties get grilled in plain view, in a state that has opinions about beef. It made The Infatuation's list of the best burgers in America, which the menu handles with a shrug. The fried-egg-and-american-cheese situation is the move, and the peanut butter schmear is there for anyone who hears "fancy" and wants to pull the other way. Cheap, loud, and unbothered.

Kanomwaan is a Thai gelato shop on Hollywood Boulevard where the flavors do the traveling, like pandan and a smoked salted egg that somehow tastes like a blown-out birthday candle. The gelato is dense and custardy, there's a two-scoop minimum, and the giant shaved ice sundaes are built for splitting among friends. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best ice cream in America, and a cup runs about what you'd expect.

Kono's is a beachside breakfast counter on Garnet Avenue where the line forms by 7am and the kitchen doesn't close until 3. It's mostly surfers who've been up for hours and tourists who've read the same lists you have. The burritos come in five sizes, and The Infatuation ranked the #1 the top breakfast burrito in America, which is also the smallest, so ordering up is a choice, not a necessity.

This is a frozen custard stand where the staff wear white paper hats and the burgers hold their own against the dessert. The custard gets its golden richness from egg yolks, and the flavors rotate daily, so you can get a swirl of Bailey's Irish Cream Coffee or apple streusel and call it dinner. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best ice cream in America, and the line proves nobody here is eating salad.

La Victoria is a casual Dallas Mexican spot on Haskell Avenue where the main event is a griddled 10-inch breakfast burrito, wrapped in a chewy tortilla and sturdy enough to survive the walk back to your car. People order the Don's Delight with eggs, bacon, and avocado, and add peanuts, a move that sounds like a typo until the first bite. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best breakfast burritos in America.

Liberty House is a casual daytime cafe wedged between a juice shop and a yoga studio, which is Asheville's version of a perfectly balanced breakfast. The sourdough blueberry pancake is the draw, proofed overnight, seared in cast iron, and finished in the oven until the outside crackles like a croissant. It comes as a single cake with butter and flaky salt, and The Infatuation named it the best pancakes in America.

Ludi's is a Filipino diner a few steps from Pike Place Market, which means a line of people who skipped the fish-throwing and went straight for breakfast. The headliner is the ube pancakes, rice flour flapjacks under a coconut glaze the color of a highlighter, with a sweetness that stays on the right side of dessert. It's a casual, counter-and-booth morning spot, so wear whatever you had on.

This is a soft-serve stand just outside Lake George, parked across the street from a Six Flags, which means the line is part sunburned families and part people who've had enough of roller coasters for one day. The menu runs long, from birthday cake to an orange creme twist that tastes like a creamsicle. The cremewich is the move if you're racing the drip. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best ice cream in America.

Nhu Lan is a Vietnamese bakery on Lawrence Avenue where the baguettes are made in-house and the sandwiches get built straight into them. The house special stacks ham and head cheese with pâté, pickled vegetables, cucumber, and jalapeño. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best bánh mì in America. Ordering both sandwiches is the usual move, since choosing one apparently can't be done.

Smash Jibarito is a counter-service burger spot on Division Street where the bun is a flattened, fried plantain, which turns lunch into a mild argument about whether this counts as a sandwich. It's the Puerto Rican jibarito run through a smashburger press, with thin, crisp-edged patties and a tangy house sauce that nods toward In-N-Out. It's a casual, order-and-grab operation, so wear whatever you were already wearing.

St. Coffee is a neighborhood coffee shop on St. Claude Avenue, a mile or so downriver from the Quarter, where the breakfast burrito comes stuffed with boudin, because this is New Orleans and the tortilla has to pay local taxes. It's counter service, pastries and espresso, the sort of place where you order in a hoodie and nobody asks questions. The Infatuation put the burrito on its national breakfast burrito list.

A hotel lobby bar in a Gothic downtown landmark, where a smash-style burger with a cream cheese and white cheddar blend and house-pickled onions is the draw. It's a dim, vaulted room with bar-food prices, and the crowd runs from packed to tumbleweed depending on the night. Service can wander. The Infatuation put the burger on its list of the best in America, which is a lot of pressure for something that tastes a little like a drive-thru.

The Oaks Pub is a neighborhood pub in Sellwood, the kind of place where you order at a bar and nobody dresses up for it. It's credited with inventing totchos, which is nachos built on tater tots, a swap so obvious that you wonder who was in charge of nachos before. The Infatuation put the dish on its list of the best potato dishes in America, which is a list that exists and is taken seriously by someone.

This is a breakfast diner in a chalet-style building with a candy cane-striped awning, which gives off strong "ski lodge that only serves syrup" energy. It's the parent of 150-plus locations, so the name is a claim, not a joke. The Dutch baby is the order, a puffed golden thing with crisp edges and a custardy middle. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best pancakes in America.

The Pickled Pig is a casual deli in a city that once called itself Porkopolis and still has the fiberglass pigs to prove it. The kitchen breaks down whole local hogs, then grinds the trimmings into a loose-packed pork burger on a potato bun, topped with nearby gouda and house kimchi. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best burgers in America. Order at the counter, and don't ask where the beef is.

Tsujita is a ramen shop on Sawtelle, known for tsukemen, where thick noodles arrive separately from a concentrated pork and seafood dipping broth. It has a sister spot, Tsujita Annex, directly across the street, so the neighborhood runs a quiet civil war over thick noodles versus thin. Expect a line, a counter-service pace, and a casual, slurp-forward room. The Infatuation put it on its list of the best ramen spots in America.

Two Goose is a counter-service barbecue market on North Lamar that understands Austin's two great loves, brisket and breakfast tacos, and quietly introduces them in burrito form. The Big Honkin' Burrito packs soft eggs, potatoes, cheese, and falling-apart brisket into a tortilla roughly the size of a throw pillow, with a cup of spicy Sunrise sauce on the side. Come hungry, and plan on a nap.

Yeh Yeh's is a casual bánh mì counter in Lynnwood, a few miles north of Seattle proper, where your order arrives as a baguette held together by a rubber band. The grilled pork gets charred edges and a salty marinade, the tofu version is flash-fried and strangely persuasive, and a Vietnamese iced coffee comes strong enough to rearrange your afternoon. The Infatuation put it on a national bánh mì list. Bring cash-register patience and a few napkins.

Yume Wo Katare is a tiny ramen shop near Porter Square where the menu is one enormous bowl of thick, chewy noodles in heavy pork broth, and your only real choice is two slices of chashu or five. Expect a line out the door and a counter packed shoulder to shoulder. When you finish, the staff invites you to stand and announce your dreams to the room, which is less awkward than it sounds, mostly.

A few tables and counter seats in the Theater District, which means you're eating Hyderabadi food elbow-to-elbow with strangers who are also very happy about it. The New York Times called out the gongura chicken biryani, and the Michelin Guide took note too. The menu pulls from Hyderabad with nods to the wider subcontinent, and the kitchen moves fast without feeling rushed.

Boat noodles are the draw at this Thai noodle shop tucked into a Hollywood strip mall, where the broth runs thick, dark, and serious, and you pick your protein, noodle type, and heat level before the bowl hits the table. The portions are small by design, which is the shop's way of nudging you toward ordering two. A Michelin Bib Gourmand, and on the LA Times 101 list. The stir-fried holy basil with pork is not an afterthought.

The sour cream cake near the door has been pulling people off Balboa Street for longer than most San Francisco restaurants have existed. Cinderella is an old-school Russian bakery and cafe in the Richmond, the kind of place where the piroshki are stuffed with cabbage or beef, the borscht is non-negotiable, and the honey cake has its own following. Order something, find a seat, and stop worrying about whatever you were worrying about.

Handmade pasta rooted in Roman and Lazio tradition is the point here, and Evan Funke's Italian restaurant inside the Fontainebleau takes that seriously enough to make everything else on the Strip feel like a reheated punchline. The room is modern rustic, open enough to clock the occasional famous face drifting through, with quieter tables along the edges for anyone who'd rather not. Seasonal antipasti, handmade pasta, the full Roman heritage treatment.

Corn is flown in from Mexico and nixtamalized in house, which tells you most of what you need to know about this Mexican restaurant's priorities. Named for the Zapotec god of maize, it's a fonda-style spot where tortillas and quesadillas come from scratch, a hickory hearth does real work in the salsas, and the bar runs a margarita built on elote mezcal. The Michelin Guide awards it a Bib Gourmand, and the room fills up accordingly.

Takeout-only lunch counter in a Kahului strip mall, where Top Chef alum Sheldon Simeon built a line that hasn't really stopped. The move is a bowl of garlic noodles under fried chicken or pork belly, with daily specials that lean into his Filipino roots. Grab a spicy fried chicken sandwich if the board shows it. The picnic benches at Kanaha Beach are the dining room, which, honestly, isn't a downgrade.

The word "post-authentic" painted on the window tells you something about the ambition here before you sit down. This Yemeni restaurant in Bay Ridge fills a brick-and-dark-wood room with families, neighborhood lifers, and northward refugees all tearing into great rounds of rashoosh and heaping plates of lamb. The New York Times put it at number 31 on its 100 best list, and Michelin gave it a Bib Gourmand. Portions are sized for sharing whether you planned to or not.

A casual lunch counter on Oretha Castle Haley that serves New Orleans Creole the way the neighborhood expects it: red beans, gumbo, Gulf seafood po' boys, priced so that going twice in a week doesn't require a conversation. The staff includes students learning the trade as part of a job-training mission, so the meal comes with a side of genuine purpose. The chef behind the kitchen spent years in upscale rooms before landing here, and the cooking shows it.