The Best Places to Eat in the United States

Loaves lined up on shelves like a carb library, pastries under glass, and a window straight into the breadmaking operation: Backhaus is a downtown San Mateo bakery and coffee shop that takes laminated dough seriously. The croissants lean toward the ornate, one arrives garnished with pistachios and raspberry as a preview of what's inside. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's best bakeries and best coffee.

Vegan Japanese in the Mission, where the menu reads like an argument that tofu never needed meat to earn its place. Cha-Ya has been around forever, with roots in Berkeley's produce-obsessed dining scene, and the cooking stays rustic and unfussy: brothy soups, deep-fried tofu in mushroom-seaweed dashi, sushi rolls packed with pickled and steamed vegetables. Sidewalk tables if you want to watch Valencia Street do its thing.

A low-key sushi bar in SoMa where the omakase swings from spicy tuna rolls to herb-crusted lamb chops, which tells you something about the kitchen's ambitions. The menu covers crowd-pleasing maki and rice bowls for the neighborhood regulars, but the longer tasting format is where things get interesting. The service is warm enough that people treat it like their local, and apparently that's exactly what it is.

James Syhabout of Commis runs this casual Thai-inflected counter spot in Temescal, where the menu swings between a spicy chicken sandwich lacquered in Thai chile oil and garlic noodles that somehow taste like a Bay Area institution. The cooking splits the difference between street food and comfort food, and it does so without making a big deal about it. Cash-friendly prices, a busy room, and nothing on the menu that needs a long explanation.

Cardamom buns, jumbo jam thumbprints, and gingery caramel cookies set the tone at this Scandinavian café and bakery on Market Street. The menu leans seasonal, with tartines on sprouted rye and both sweet and savory porridges, but the flaky seed-topped pastry stuffed with soft scrambled eggs and molten havarti is what brings people back. Grab a sidewalk table and let the Market Street parade do its thing.

A glass case of choux, pâté en croûte, and individual rounds of quiche greets you the moment you walk into this French patisserie and café in the Financial District. The quiche, filled with custard, bacon, and comté, comes as its own small pie rather than a slice, which feels either very Parisian or very practical depending on your mood. The canelés have a genuinely crackling shell that most local versions never manage.

Ox Bar & Hearth is a full-service Lincoln Park restaurant that sits right across from the North and Clybourn el stop and keeps a valet lot, which in this neighborhood is practically a luxury amenity. Brunch leans carb-heavy, with soft blue cornbread and pastries from Fat Peach Bakery. For a $95 smoked ribeye with fried eggs, the kitchen will also shave black truffle on top if you ask nicely.

The Taishan roast chicken arrives head-on, carved tableside by a server wearing two layers of gloves who tears it apart with her bare hands. This Cantonese restaurant in Chinatown is one of the few places left that stays open deep into the night, which means the 2 a.m. crowd runs from solo diners working through a clay pot of eel rice to the chefs from Four Kings. Named among San Francisco Chronicle's top Chinese restaurants in the Bay Area, it earns the spot at any hour.

The tomato soup arrives under a dome of puff pastry in a bowl so hot you'll burn your fingers just reaching for it. This is a classic French bistro in the heart of Yountville, the kind of place with walls so covered in stuff you need a second visit to take it all in. Braised meats, goat cheese salads, an enclosed patio that works even in gray weather. It fills up fast during harvest season, so book ahead.

Carnitas by the pound, sold on weekends only from a weekend-only stand beside the railroad tracks in East Oakland. The Morales family runs this outdoor operation Saturdays and Sundays, and the lines snake long enough that selling out is routine rather than a surprise. A few communal tables let you eat on the spot, or you can take it all home. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's best tacos and best Mexican restaurants. Get there early.

Carnitas fried to order in a Richmond backyard: that's the whole setup, and it turns out to be enough. This Pueblan home taqueria turns out giant carnitas tacos loaded with confited pork, hand-pulled quesillo, and a salsa verde that has made grown adults reconsider their life choices. The cemitas are thick and brawny, and pumpkin seed mole shows up as a special when you're lucky. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's best Mexican restaurants and best tacos.

The barbacoa tacos dorados here leave a pool of vivid red oil on the plate that stops first-timers mid-bite. This casual Antioch taco spot specializes in guisos, proteins slow-simmered into something silky, ordered as tacos or thick, crispy gorditas. The San Francisco Chronicle put it on their short lists for both best Mexican restaurants and best tacos in the Bay Area, which for a strip-mall counter in the East Bay is a statement worth noting.

String lights zigzag above the patio out back, where counter-service Taiwanese food and soft serve draw crowds to this Emeryville spot. Fried tofu skins that look remarkably like Wheat Thins share a table with grilled corn and fried chicken in a citrusy Sichuan peppercorn sauce. The housemade sparkling oolong and an unconventional sake list give you something to argue over while you wait for a seat.

A taco stand parked in front of a beauty salon on Broadway, which tells you everything about Vallejo's relationship with pretension. The suadero gets seared on the flat top until the edges crisp up, and the al pastor's adobo punches well above its price point. Grilled onions and chiles come on the side. You eat at a picnic table or over your trunk, and the San Francisco Chronicle has called out both the tacos and the broader menu as among the Bay Area's best.

A redwood-shaded café in Monte Rio where the menu runs through the Levant and the Mediterranean and the décor is someone's very good vintage-electronics collection. The beach pita, stuffed with roasted eggplant, boiled eggs, tahini, and pickled mango sauce, is the reason regulars make the drive from the Bay. Take it across to the Russian River beach, or eat at a picnic table while the skatepark next door provides the entertainment.

A food truck that does one thing: pav bhaji, the Mumbai street staple of spiced, buttered vegetable gravy served with soft, toasted rolls for scooping. The bhaji gets its richness from Amul butter, and the locally made pav handles like Parker House rolls. Spicy, cheesy, or both are your main decisions. Order extra bread regardless, because the gravy always wins the race. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's top South Asian and top vegetarian spots.

All the seating is outdoors, which means Sam's Log Cabin operates like a neighborhood backyard that happens to serve breakfast. The kitchen lives in an actual log cabin, the pergola is draped in greenery, and the menu runs hearty, with cornmeal pancakes and corned beef hash doing the heavy lifting. Ask about the weekly specials, which tend toward seasonal pancakes and scones. Albany's not a destination, but on a sunny morning this patio makes a persuasive case for itself.

Nonalcoholic micheladas made with hop water and fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice set the tone at this cozy Noe Valley cantina, where brunch skews California-virtuous without turning preachy. Tamales come with avocado and a jammy egg, grain bowls are loaded with seeds and roasted vegetables, and the whole thing feels like an all-day LA café that somehow landed in a neighborhood where Patagonia puffers count as dressed up. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's top brunch spots.

Good Voyage is a South Park coffee shop near the Duwamish Waterway that reopened after a fire kept it shut for over a year. The floral vintage light fixtures and mismatched plates give it a gently bohemian air, the Dorothea coffee runs light and fruity, and the seasonal galettes take the place of the usual croissant. Eater called it Seattle's best comeback, which is a lot of pressure for a pastry case.

The fish sauce arrives in a jumbo jug, which tells you most of what you need to know about the spirit of this place. Banh Cuon Tay Ho is a Vietnamese takeout counter in San Jose's Senter Road corridor, built entirely around banh cuon, the soft steamed rice rolls stuffed with peppery pork and dried shrimp, then loaded with fried spring rolls, yam fritters, fermented pork, and prawn cake. One dish, done obsessively.

A cenaduria is a Mexican dinner spot built around comfort food, and this East Oakland home restaurant does exactly that, anchored by tostadas raspadas, thin bubbly planks of fried corn piled with meat, cabbage, crumbled cheese, and a sizzling salsa roja. Pozole, tacos dorados, enchiladas, and tortas ahogadas drowned in tomato sauce fill out the menu. The San Francisco Chronicle has called it one of the best Mexican restaurants in the Bay Area.

Spam musubi sits by the register for grab-and-go, which tells you exactly what kind of place this is. Diamond Head General Store is a Hawaiian plate-lunch counter in San Bruno where the mochiko fried chicken arrives craggy, peppery, and portioned for two people with ambitions of feeding one. Shave ice rounds out a menu that runs on comfort and not much pretension. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's best fried chicken spots.

A lunch window on Vine Street where the herbs arrive in what can only be described as quantities. The team behind it came up through Chez Panisse, and their California produce fixation reads clearly in the Middle Eastern menu: falafel with a serious crunch, flatbreads buried in mint and dill, yogurt spiked with broccoli and dill. Takeout only, which keeps things honest. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the best Berkeley and best Bay Area Middle Eastern spots.

Hamburguesa Bar is a casual SoMa burger counter from the same crew behind Pie Punks, which explains why the beef gets a surprising amount of attention. The Black Label stacks an eight-ounce patty with truffle butter, mushroom ragout, demi-glace, and white American cheese, a pile that sounds excessive and somehow isn't. It comes with a side salad, a small gesture toward moderation that everyone politely accepts.

The shrimp salad with avocado and grapefruit supremes has been on the menu since the Carter administration, and it still draws a crowd. This old-school seafood restaurant near Davies Symphony Hall has been serving the pre-concert set since forever, with sustainable fish prepared simply and without ceremony. Curtain times mean the kitchen moves, so you can eat well and still make it to your seat.

The steamed-up windows are the first sign you're in the right place. Hon's is a no-frills Cantonese noodle house in Chinatown, been around forever, and the wonton soup is the reason: thin noodles, plump pork-and-shrimp dumplings in a clear broth with a deep, funky dried-shrimp backbone. The scallion pancakes are hard to skip. Lunch crowds move fast, solo diners fit right in, and the whole thing costs almost nothing.

This is a small bakery-cafe on Woodward where Filipino pastries, ube cookies, and pandesal stuffed with coconut or cream cheese share a counter with longganisa biscuits and gravy. Doughnuts show up on a schedule, so Saturday bomboloni with a rotating monthly filling are a loose appointment you have to keep. About ten seats, a few espresso drinks, and a calamansi soda that makes your usual lemonade feel underdressed. Eater has named it among Detroit's best coffee shops and doughnut shops.

Cherry and oak wood smoke is the throughline at this Berkeley barbecue shop, where the char siu and the smoked chicken land somewhere between American pitmaster and Hong Kong roast house, with a detour through Indian curry along the way. The team behind Huangcheng Noodle House in Oakland built the concept around a father's love of American barbecue, and the collision of those three kitchens is less confused than it sounds.

La Catedral is a casual Mexican breakfast spot in Little Village where the decor runs to saints and religious imagery, a collection that keeps growing because customers keep gifting more of it. The menu covers eggs, omelets, pancakes, and licuados, but the chilaquiles are the sermon, with at least fifteen versions. The verdes and the smoky, very spicy A La Diabla draw the most devotees. It's Eater's list of Chicago's best Mexican restaurants.

The complimentary focaccia that lands at your table before dinner is spongy and faintly sweet, closer to a savory pound cake than anything you'd expect for free. This rustic Tuscan restaurant in downtown Fairfax does freshly made, rib-sticking pasta alongside a porchetta sandwich at lunch that justifies the name on the sign. Marble countertops inside, wood benches out front for when Marin decides to behave weather-wise.

Woven Messob baskets hang from the ceiling at this Ethiopian restaurant on Adeline, and the room is clearly built for a party, with a long bar, plush chairs, and a fully adjustable lighting rig that suggests someone once had serious ambitions for the space. Order the meat and veggie combo and let the kitchen do the rest. The 100% teff injera crumbles a little differently than you might expect, which is its own small education.

Manakish are pizza-sized Lebanese flatbreads, and this fast-casual spot in Walnut Creek has built its whole identity around them. The menu runs from simple za'atar to meat-and-cheese loaded versions, plus wraps, bowls, and kebab plates, with weekend brunch on top. Patterned tiles and Turkish mosaic chandeliers give the room more personality than the format usually bothers with. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's top Middle Eastern restaurants.

The focaccia comes from Liguria Bakery down the street and goes into a small oven behind the bar, where the staff arrange sandwiches with a pizza peel like a game of Tetris. This old North Beach cafe has been around forever, its walls dense with sunwashed photos and Italian art. Order the meatball on focaccia and take a table by the window, where Washington Square gives the whole thing the feeling of a city that still knows how to sit still.

The back patio, hidden behind a fast-food-plain interior, fills with ferns and afternoon light in a way that catches most first-timers off guard. This counter-service Mediterranean spot on California Avenue has been an old-school institution for decades, turning out Jordanian-style shawarma and vegetarian combo platters at prices that feel almost apologetic. The halvah bars and butter cookies come from a local confection maker and taste like it.

The sugar-crusted barbecue buns have a following serious enough to cause shortages. Ming's Tasty is a no-frills dim sum shop in Oakland's Chinatown, the kind where takeout orders go out the door in stacks and the breakfast and lunch crowds spill onto the sidewalk. The fried shrimp balls are famously frilly and bouncy, the siu mai lands every time, and the line, when there is one, moves faster than you'd expect.

Nasi lemak is the organizing principle here, the Malaysian national dish built around coconut rice with its constellation of sides. This quick-service counter in downtown San Jose plates it with Mamak-style fried chicken, an overnight spice-and-curry-leaf marinade under a thin cornstarch crackle that happens to be gluten-free. The San Francisco Chronicle put it on both its best San Jose restaurants and best Bay Area fried chicken lists, which is a tidy double for a $13 plate.

A blowtorch on Kobe beef is how this Eastside San Jose pho shop announces itself. Northern Vietnamese beef pho is the whole focus, with a menu built entirely around the cow, from oxtail to various cuts cooked in the broth or seared tableside. Hanoi landmark murals and a bucking steer cover the walls of a strip mall room that stays relaxed. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's top Vietnamese spots.

Free-range chicken runs the whole show at this cozy Vietnamese pho shop in San Jose's Vietnam Town. The cơm gà rô ti, a rotisserie chicken rice plate, arrives with tomato-flavored rice, a sunny-side up egg, and chile sauce, plus a small cup of chicken soup on the side because apparently that wasn't enough food already. The San Francisco Chronicle has named it among the top Vietnamese spots in the Bay Area.

The chef grows his own peppers for the ceviche, which tells you something about how seriously this Rockridge Peruvian restaurant takes its headlining dish. Each one arrives layered with fried corn, seaweed, and fish that's been marinated into something vivid and fiery. The chicharron and shrimp chupe hold their own as follow-ups, and the sake pisco sour is a quiet argument for rethinking a classic. Snug room, wood accents, a small parklet outside.

The pastry case at this sunny Healdsburg bakery often runs bare before the end of the day, which should tell you something. Pesto-swirled croissants and kouign amanns sit alongside serious breads, and the quiche lands on the creamier end of the spectrum. Seating is outdoor picnic tables only, so you're essentially buying provisions. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the top bakeries in the Bay Area.

The paper butter cover stamped with a cursive "S" tells you everything about Sam's Grill, a classic San Francisco seafood grill that has been around forever. Rows of coat hooks line the walls from an era when men wore hats, and the curtained back booths suggest generations of cioppino-fueled lunch intrigue. Tuxedoed servers deliver oysters Rockefeller to regulars who never need the menu. Weekday lunch is the move; dinner is largely theoretical.

A Jewish deli in the Bay Area is a rare enough thing that Saul's has been feeding North Berkeley for decades without much competition. The latkes are aggressively crunchy, the pastrami comes fatty and brined on rye with grainy mustard, and raspberry jam sits on every table like a standing invitation. Pancakes are fluffy in the way a diner promises but rarely delivers. Weekend brunch draws a crowd that clearly has nowhere more important to be.

A dim sum restaurant attached to a Sunnyvale Ramada Inn sounds like a punchline, but the kitchen-feed TV looping footage of cooks pulling noodles and stir-frying greens sets the tone quickly. This is a spacious, serious dim sum house with a sunroom and patio, serving har gow, barbecue pork buns, and chicken feet glossed in sweet sauce. The house chile oil quietly runs the whole operation. Black charcoal buns filled with salted egg custard are the crowd favorite.

A family-run crab shop on the Bodega Bay waterfront where the fishermen and the kitchen are basically the same people. Order a crab sandwich or a cup of clam chowder, then take it to the cliffs overlooking the bay, where the wind and the smell of seawater do the rest of the work. Whole cooked crabs to go, too. The San Francisco Chronicle has named it among the best seafood spots in the Bay Area.

Posters advertising long-gone menu items like cottage cheese salad hang alongside the candy display at this Mission District diner, which has been around forever and looks exactly like it. Wood booths, a lunch counter, and the kind of simplicity that produces genuinely fluffy flapjacks and a patty melt on marbled rye. The city's Legacy Business Program keeps the bones intact, which means new ownership changes nothing a regular would notice.

Oxblood marble and decorative molding dripping in merlot tones have replaced what the Chronicle once described as a middle school production of Camelot. This old-school Italian red sauce restaurant on Taraval has been around forever, and a lengthy remodel hasn't loosened its grip on the classics. Regulars who never open the menu fill the room by six, and if you ask the kitchen nicely about the veal saltimbocca, it will appear.

Hog Island Oyster Company farms its oysters right here on Tomales Bay, which is about as close to the source as you can get without wading in. The retail counter sells those oysters alongside condiments and picnic supplies, so most people just load up and find a spot along the coast. The reservation-only oyster bar adds grilled preparations and small plates for those who'd rather sit. Marine biologists founded it, which explains why the conservation ethos feels less like marketing.

Yellow Light is a neighborhood doughnut and coffee shop on Jefferson Avenue in Jefferson Chalmers, with a drive-thru that does real work once winter sets in. The glazes get inventive, including one made with Faygo Red Pop, and the biscuit breakfast sandwiches keep the savory side honest. It's cheap, casual, and eaten in a parked car about as often as at a table. Eater has put it on both its Detroit doughnut and coffee lists.

The facade is papered with photos of the original owner posing with Jackie Chan, Emeril Lagasse, and Jacques Pépin, which tells you most of what you need to know. This old-school Hong Kong seafood spot in Chinatown has been around forever and draws a late-night crowd that arrives hungry and slightly chaotic. The wok runs hot, the garlic-fried prawns arrive crunchy to the heads, and the salt-and-pepper calamari is what you order when the evening needs a proper ending.

A thatched-roof hut stands in the middle of the dining room, which tells you this Ethiopian restaurant on Saratoga Ave is not going through the motions. The vegetarian combo arrives as a mosaic of colors on injera, and the kitfo, spiced raw beef tartare, is the thing regulars order without looking up. Honey wine comes in painted bottles. The San Francisco Chronicle named it among the Bay Area's best Ethiopian spots.

The rice noodles here are stubby and chewy rather than the thin, rippling sheets you'd find elsewhere in Chinatown, and that texture is the whole point. Chang Lai is a tiny Cantonese noodle shop on Bayard where the regulars from the old street cart days have simply followed the owners indoors. Curry fish balls and noodles with all the sauces will run you around five dollars, which leaves you no excuse not to go twice.

Inside Grand Central Terminal, this vast all-day French brasserie runs from the pre-dawn commuter rush straight through to a late-night dinner crowd, 365 days a year. The scale is genuinely staggering, which means walk-ins are usually fine, a minor miracle in Midtown. The menu swings from a lobster omelet at breakfast to classic brasserie fare at dinner, with the room itself doing a lot of the heavy lifting.

One of the last dim sum parlors in Chinatown still rolling carts through the dining room, House of Joy fills fast on weekends, and the wait outside can stretch past an hour if you don't arrive early. Worth the patience: plates of rice noodles, pineapple buns, and chicken feet run a few dollars each, and the room itself, loud and bustling and completely unbothered by trends, does most of the convincing.

Maroon is a sleek, clubby Afro-Caribbean restaurant at the Sahara, built around a custom jerk pit you can smell before you find your table. The hip-hop runs loud enough that anything important should wait until dessert, if not the car. Expect jerk chicken, braised oxtail, and bachelorettes on their way to Magic Mike next door. Book about a month ahead, or call in a favor.

Eyal Shani's quick-service pita shop inside the Venetian prints its menu entirely in Comic Sans, which tells you most of what you need to know about the mood. Stuffed pitas run from wild mushroom to rib-eye minute steak, and the vegetables get treated with a near-religious seriousness that makes a cold bag of green beans feel like an event. High-top seating, fast counter service, and prices that won't require a second mortgage on the Strip.

Stonewashed walls, seating in every configuration known to humanity, and enough plants to make a botanist emotional set the scene at this coffee shop on East 12th. The front half runs buzzy and social while the back stays quieter, so you can choose your own adventure. The menu covers the usual cafe drinks alongside a few specialty brews, plus breakfast sandwiches and housemade pastries. You can also buy the ivy you've been staring at all morning.

A tiny black box of a coffee shop on SE Stark, Puff Coffee comes with a Stumptown pedigree and the occasional line of devoted early arrivals out front. The focus is single-origin beans, served as drip or a tight espresso, with the shop's clean, minimal interior quietly offset by an E.T. figurine nestled among vintage coffee makers. For the less orthodox, shroom lattes with lion's mane and chaga round things out.

Wood-paneled walls and a parking lot that fills before most people have checked their phones: Harlow's is an old-school Tempe diner that hasn't felt the need to update anything. Booths pack in early birds and retirees at dawn, then hand off to the hangover crowd around nine. The coffee is black, the burritos are large, and the servers are the kind who remember how you take it. Phoenix New Times named it one of the ten best brunch spots in Phoenix.

Taking the elevator to the sixth floor of a commercial building off Union Square is a strange way to find a kaiseki omakase, which is probably the point. The chef spent years at the cult Japanese spot Kyo Ya before opening this one, and the room lands somewhere between chic Tokyo penthouse and relaxed dinner party, with the city glittering through the windows. The courses are elaborate and precise; the mood, somehow, is not.

Donna's is a cocktail bar on White Oak where the evening's main activity is relaying other people's drinks over your head while inching toward the rail. Seats are guarded by strangers who hover with the patience of vultures, and a Fridge Cig, an Old Fashioned built on dark rum and cherry cola, is what you'll be holding when you finally win one. It was a Spirited Awards Top 10 nominee for Best New U.S. Cocktail Bar.

The bright yellow building in Phoenix's Melrose District is hard to argue with at 7 a.m. Joe's is an old-school diner with booths, round group tables, and road signs on the walls, the kind of place where the coffee is black and nobody's trying to impress you. Weekends bring a line out front, which the regulars seem to take as confirmation rather than inconvenience. The biscuits and gravy and oversized burritos do the heavy lifting.

Tesiny is a small raw bar and charcoal grill on a South Philly block of old-school institutions, a short walk from an abandoned garage, which is not the setting oysters usually ask for. Inside, velvet chairs and late-90s R&B give it the feel of a very good bar mitzvah afterparty. Stop in for a drink and a snack or stay for dinner, though expect a sit-down price, not a counter-service one.

A French cafe that does breakfast and lunch by the book, then quietly pivots at dinner into something else entirely. The chef spent time doing pop-ups before taking over this spot, and his French-Haitian dinner menu carries that earned confidence: Haitian epis perfumes a beef patty, djon-djon gets English peas and local mushrooms, and the kitchen-driven cocktail list includes non-alcoholic drinks worth ordering on purpose.