By the end of my stay in Sapporo, I was beginning to understand my friend Megumi’s advice. There had been filling bowls of soup curry and gamy lamb barbecue cooked on domed grills known as Jingisukan, for their resemblance to Genghis Khan’s helmet. There was a long, luxuriant lunch at Suginome, one of the city’s oldest ryōtei, a genre of restaurant that, not so long ago, offered entertainment by geisha and private rooms where businessmen and politicians made deals over elaborate dinners. This one still offers precise, flavorful food served on wood dishes made by Ainu craftsmen nearly 70 years ago, when the restaurant first opened. The showstopper was a two-and-a-half-pound horsehair crab, one of the glories of Hokkaido’s coastal waters, presented whole and then steamed and shelled.

Our last and favorite meal took place at Tempura Masa, which can be hard to find because it is tucked inside another restaurant. Among all of the country’s dining traditions, high-end tempura—flash-fried in sesame oil to achieve the lightest possible batter and presented as the centerpiece of a long coursed meal—is probably the least known outside Japan. Thirty-something Masayuki Murai, who gave up a shot at a baseball career to become a tempura chef, created a meal that encapsulated everything I’d come to love about eating in Sapporo. A whole smelt known as shishamo, about four inches long, encased in batter as delicate as frost, still haunts me. After serving a fragrant tempura of shiitake, Murai unexpectedly pulled out a bottle of Domaine Takahiko Pinot Noir, explaining apologetically that the winemaker permits him to pair it only with the umami-rich mushroom course.

Unsurprisingly, the meal ended with ice cream, served without toppings or garnishes. When I tasted it, I realized why. It had the grainless texture of ripe mango, with waves of flavor that surged and then ebbed on my tongue. Standing over us with the posture of a tired but victorious matador, Murai explained that the ice cream required 14 hours of simmering, then laughed to acknowledge that it was an absurd amount of time for such a simple dish. But also, I think, from the pleasure of having made something we’d remember for a long, long time.

Chef Masayuki Murai at Tempura Masa, which showcases local produce

Graydon Herriott

Stay

For an onsen with a view, check in to centrally located JR Tower Hotel Nikko Sapporo. Royal Park Canvas Sapporo Odori Park comes to life after-hours with its buzzy rooftop bar. Outside the city, near Shikotsu-Tōya National Park, Kasho Gyoen is a simple ryokan with in-room onsens. In 2027 the Trunk brand will open its first Sapporo property featuring a spa and theater space.

Eat

Head to Noa Hakobune for locally sourced grilled seafood. Fine dining spot Cucina Italiana Magari spins Hokkaido ingredients into innovative Italian dishes. Stand in line for miso ramen at suburban Menya Saimi. At Tempura Masa, battered delicacies are served alongside an impressive wine list. The latter is just as worthwhile at Kamuy inside the Royal Park Canvas. For a long lunch, make for Suginome, the city’s oldest ryōtei. And don’t miss the shime sundae at Nanakamadou.

This article appeared in the March 2026 issue of Condé Nast Traveler. Subscribe to the magazine here.

“I love New York, and I love the restaurants here—especially the small, weird ones,” says Alison Roman. The Brooklyn-based cook and cookbook author (her latest, Something from Nothing, came out November 2025) is always eating her way through the city, but that doesn’t mean she’s fighting for a seat at the most hyped TikTok spots or dime-a-dozen clubstaurants that are currently crowding Manhattan’s scene. “Going to a restaurant, for me, is about whether the food tastes good, of course, but also the feeling and the vibe and like, Do I want to support that business?,” says Roman. “What New York really needs are the quirky, homespun, independently owned, hyper-specific places with a point of view. That’s how I want to eat.”

This winter, we followed Alison around Brooklyn, stopping at three of her all-time favorite places to eat. “Restaurants are very personal and nostalgic for me,” she notes. One, she found by chance and now regularly returns to; another reminds her of when she first moved to New York; a third is simply the perfect answer, she says, to the eternal question: Where should we go tonight?

Below, Roman shares her three favorite spots in Brooklyn, New York, and what to order at each.

Must-order: Clam toast

Hart’s is a quintessential neighborhood restaurant—it’s good for parents and good for a date and good for friends and good for when you’re by yourself. It’s kind of always the answer to, Where should we go tonight? And that’s increasingly rare, like, especially since you can probably get in. The menu changes all the time, but it’s highly seasonal. You can go once a week and always have something different. It’s pretty vegetable and protein-forward, pretty light. It’s how I would cook if I worked in a restaurant. The one thing they always seem to have is the clam toast. They’re basically clams in white wine with garlic and chili and finished with parsley. And then that whole pot is poured on top of some really nice, thick, crusty bread that’s rubbed with garlic. There’s also celery in there, which, always reminds me of stuffing, like, the soaked bread, the butter and celery and garlic, that’s probably why I like it so much.

Must-order: Pho and everything on the starters menu

San Antonio’s restaurant scene tells the story of a blue-collar Mexican American city with more than 300 years of recorded history. Here, you’ll find breakfast tacos and enchilada combos in every neighborhood, the plates in the hands of people of all income levels. The best restaurants honor the city’s culture while pushing toward something new. Creative chefs from places like Mexico, New Orleans, and South Korea join San Antonio’s born-and-raised in offering an array of options that surprise and thrill: Central Texas barbecue with South Texas twists; refined American classics; and deeply researched regional Mexican dishes that traverse states, time periods, and Indigenous traditions.

Longstanding family operations that go back more than 60 years, meanwhile, continue to serve the huevos rancheros, breakfast tacos, and combo plates that power this city. Visitors often stay downtown and explore the River Walk, go a little north to the bustling, buzzy Pearl District at the classic Hotel Emma, or head just south to the artsy King William neighborhood. Consider these areas just a start. San Antonio is a taco kind of town, but there’s much more on the menu. These restaurants will help you understand what San Antonio tastes like today.

2731 S WW White Rd

South Texan backyard gatherings often include a slow-smoked brisket, fresh flour tortillas, and a mix of American and Mexican sides. Pit master and owner Esaul Ramos pairs this homestyle sensibility with some of the best smoked meats in the state, and sides that include chicharrón macaroni, pickled nopales (cactus paddles), Mexican street corn, and classic potato salad. Make sure to get some juicy brisket, housemade sausage with Oaxaca cheese, and citrus-rubbed turkey breast. If it’s available, try the dinosaur beef rib. Expect a line.

The contemporary American menu at Bliss includes dishes like braised and charred Spanish octopus with white bean puree.

Bliss

926 S Presa St

When Hall of Fame coach Gregg Popovich wanted to host a private dinner for the recently drafted Victor Wembanyama alongside four Spurs legends, he chose Bliss. With exposed brick walls and thick wood beam ceilings, it’s a sophisticated and stylishly understated place for a clientele with good taste. Whether you’re celebrating a personal milestone, a date night or the passing of a sports franchise’s generational torch, enjoy the contemporary American menu where every plate feels perfectly composed and balanced, with polished service to match. Longtime favorites include the chicken-fried oyster sliders, braised and charred Spanish octopus with white bean puree, and beef short ribs over mashed potatoes with roasted garlic.

111 Kings Ct

I will always believe that the Hotel Chelsea is one of the coolest hotels in the city, and by proxy it’s deeply romantic—not in a heart-shaped box of chocolates kinda way, but in the sexier, rock ‘n roll way. I love El Quijote, and throwing back vermouth under the murals that have looked over the likes of Patti Smith and Jimi Hendrix, but downstairs in Teruko the scene is sultry as hell. Ask for a table, not the bar—even though it’s a sushi joint, and I do love watching chefs work their magic, the low-lit tables below the stone barrel ceilings are even better. Order a mix of hot yakitori and gasp-worthy sushi, and the very large grilled shrimp that is nearly the size of a lobster. If you want to make a staycation of it, book a room upstairs and stay the night.—M.S.

Coby Club NYC

Best for: A later date, via speakeasy entertainment
Address: 156 1/2 7th Ave, Chelsea, Manhattan

Everything about Coby Club screams enticing, provocative, and sexy. With inspiration from San Francisco nightlife in the 1950’s, the new speakeasy lends itself to a celebration of unique and celebrated artistry. Here, alongside the plush retro decor, jazz-tinged and sultry blues, singers, broadway performers and burlesque artists perform impromptu, with pop-up live performances every night between 9 to 11 p.m. (for a later date). To enjoy during the show, there’s seasonal options for light bites and bar food.—J.C.

Joseph Leonard

Best for:
Address: 170 Waverly Pl, West Village, Manhattan

What makes Joseph Leonard so romantic, beyond its neighborhood staple notoriety, is the way it sets the perfect scene for clinching a late night. Dim antique lighting, picture frames covering every inch of the walls, and a centralized bar filled with buzzy characters sit at the heart of a room anchored by a few coveted tables, where leaning in and brushing shoulders with a lucky counterpart is inevitable. The food is always dependable, and its late hours make it irresistible. Open until midnight from Thursday to Saturday, it’s the perfect place for a second (or third, or fourth) location you can suggest when you’re on a marathon-type date and aren’t ready for the night to end. And it’s those hours that make it dangerous, too. I’ve escalated a simple “let’s grab a casual drink” into late-night walk-ins here with partners, strangers, best friends—even my parents. I always leave there ferociously romanticizing my entire life and, incidentally, the person I’m with. And for that I will raise the hand of accountability. –Bridget Knowles, associate social media manager

Monkey Bar

Best for: Old-school cool vibe, and an iconic reputation
Address: 60 East 54th Street, Midtown Manhattan

The iconic Monkey Bar opened in the heart of Midtown back in 1936 and has since kept true to its Jazz Age essence with an art deco interior, complimented by large-wraparound dining room wall mural. Its deep red leather upholstered booths work with the golden hues from the candle-and-lamp lights throughout. And while, yes, it’s an impressive reservation to score—it also has an unpretentious, relaxed energy that boosts the romance even more. You’ll have heaps of options given their extensive menu (brunch, lunch, and dinner). Some highlights: their dinner crudo selections, lemon meringue pie, and a classic martini. It’s also a haven for breaking the ice, as the history of the space lends a gracious first date topic—and it’s one of the greatest restaurants to people watch, welcoming funky and glamorous characters from all walks of life.—J.C.

The Modern

Best for: Spruced-up Michelin star dishes
Address: 9 W 53rd St, Midtown Manhattan

The seafood-heavy sister restaurant to the inimitable Don Angie was the hardest table in town to book well before it opened. If you are fortunate enough to elbow your way into a Resy, or walk in to snag one of their wooden bar stools, take your time. Start with a cocktail. We did negronis and note-perfect dry martinis, finished with a thick peel of lemon, just like they are on the Amalfi. The space itself recalled the fabled Italian coastline, with warm, sunny yellows and pops of Mediterranean blues, but an impressive bar with hand carved stools and leather booths make the place feel every part of an upscale West Village restaurant. And then, the food. After stints at Torrisi and the helm of Don Angie, chef Angie Rito knows a thing or two about Italian-American cuisine, which is how San Sabino classifies itself. Though here, she reinvents it even further. Contrary to red sauce norms, the menu is heavy on lighter dishes, like exceptional salads (the tricolore Sabino is their take on a Caesar) and crudos (the spicy tuna with broken arancini was my favorite bite of the night) and a smart, tight selection of pasta dishes. I resisted the urge to get meatballs and Sunday sauce manicotti and went full fish, because, when in Amalfi…. The crab-filled farfalle was delicate and wonderfully sauced as was the lobster triangoli. We had to order the restaurant’s viral dish, the shrimp parm, with heads popping out from layers of red sauce and cheese, sizzling on a silver platter. Risking backlash, I will say that it was good, but it’s not a can’t-miss. Instead, opt for an additional dish of what Rito does so exceptionally here – the fresher, lighter seafood (another crudo, or perhaps the halibut). And if you (like me) still need that fix of more on-the-nose Italian American, it is nice to know that Rito’s meatball spiedini—deliciously seasoned, served on a skewer—can be ordered with any dish, on the side. —Erin Florio, executive editor

Neighborhood: West Village, Manhattan
Go for: Don Angie, but make it seafood

The seafood-heavy sister restaurant to the inimitable Don Angie was the hardest table in town to book well before it opened. If you are fortunate enough to elbow your way into a Resy, or walk in to snag one of their wooden bar stools, take your time. Start with a cocktail. We did negronis and note-perfect dry martinis, finished with a thick peel of lemon, just like they are on the Amalfi. The space itself recalled the fabled Italian coastline, with warm, sunny yellows and pops of Mediterranean blues, but an impressive bar with hand carved stools and leather booths make the place feel every part of an upscale West Village restaurant. And then, the food. After stints at Torrisi and the helm of Don Angie, chef Angie Rito knows a thing or two about Italian-American cuisine, which is how San Sabino classifies itself. Though here, she reinvents it even further. Contrary to red sauce norms, the menu is heavy on lighter dishes, like exceptional salads (the tricolore Sabino is their take on a Caesar) and crudos (the spicy tuna with broken arancini was my favorite bite of the night) and a smart, tight selection of pasta dishes. I resisted the urge to get meatballs and Sunday sauce manicotti and went full fish, because, when in Amalfi…. The crab-filled farfalle was delicate and wonderfully sauced as was the lobster triangoli. We had to order the restaurant’s viral dish, the shrimp parm, with heads popping out from layers of red sauce and cheese, sizzling on a silver platter. Risking backlash, I will say that it was good, but it’s not a can’t-miss. Instead, opt for an additional dish of what Rito does so exceptionally here – the fresher, lighter seafood (another crudo, or perhaps the halibut). And if you (like me) still need that fix of more on-the-nose Italian American, it is nice to know that Rito’s meatball spiedini—deliciously seasoned, served on a skewer—can be ordered with any dish, on the side. —Erin Florio, global features director

It’s not an accident that La Guelaguetza is named for a vibrant Oaxacan folk festival—the restaurant’s interior, and its menu, capture both the essence of the old Mexican region and the spirit of celebration. Here you’ll find a creative mix of regional classics (three different, plate-licking good moles, for example) and creative fusion items like the pizzabirria—a quesadilla-like treasure stuffed with birria stewed beef and cheese and topped with guacamole, sour cream. It’s still dippable, too. Founded in 2019 by the five Salazar brothers, it took just three years before the restaurant was nominated for a James Beard Award in the “Best Chef: Southwest” category. Located near Albuquerque’s primarily Spanish-speaking South Valley, it’s hard to beat La Guelaguetza for Mexican fare in Albuquerque.

A plate of tacos and fries from The Original Cocina Azul.

The Original Cocina Azul

1134 Mountain Rd NW

While you’ll find thousands of versions of huevos rancheros, the dish so beloved in New Mexico and available widely across the state, the version served at The Original Cocina Azul is one of the very best. The restaurant itself is humble, with its dozen or so tables and a three seater-bar in an airy corner building near Old Town. The menu, inspired by the family recipes of owners Evelyn and Frank Barela, has something to satisfy anyone at any time—from breakfast burritos and rave-worthy pozole through to game night margaritas and green chili cheeseburgers. Cocina Azul’s flavors have become so world-renowned, in fact, that in 2022, they inspired Lay’s Potato Chips to make a flavor of chips—Chili Relleno—based on the restaurant’s recipe.

5555 Montgomery Blvd NE

Your first time at Al-quds might feel like you’re visiting a speakeasy. Step into the humble strip mall location and you’ll find yourself in a small Mediterranean grocery store. You can order prepared food at the counter, or ask to be seated in the cafe tucked behind the shelves to your left. There, images of Al-quds, the Arabic name for Jerusalem, hang above a dozen tables. You might start with a refreshing glass of iced mint tea and a healthy serving of hummus or falafel to whet your appetite, but be sure to move on to a shawarma or a mashawi (kabob). The meats are cooked to succulent perfection, served alongside healthy portions of rice, vegetables, and a creamy garlic sauce that may well bring tears of joy to your eyes. And don’t forget to grab a fresh date cookie or piece of baklava from the pastry case on your way out.

Chapinero Alto, the locus of Bogotá’s food scene, could just about pass for London’s Hampstead—aside from the 2,600 meters of altitude, the yellow trumpet bushes and the emerald surrounds of the Andes. The broad avenues of this smart district are lined with mid-20th-century red-brick mansions designed by French-Colombian architect Rogelio Salmona, who reimagined Eurocentric modernism for a post-independence Colombia. Today, one such building is occupied by another national pioneer: Eduardo Martínez, one of the founding fathers of a burgeoning Colombian food movement that increasingly rivals Peru in the 50 Best lists of restaurants and bars.

Back in 2001, when the capital city was defined by mediocre European offerings, Martínez opened Mini-Mal, which is dedicated to social change by using Indigenous rites, and flora and fauna from one of the planet’s most biodiverse countries. One thousand varieties of fruit, from mangosteen to soursop, grow across Colombia’s more than 300 ecosystems, which span the Amazon, Caribbean, and Pacific, and are home to 65 Indigenous languages. Yet the nation had been a stranger to itself, cleaved by three Andean ranges and more than 50 years of political and drug-related violence that only officially ended in 2016, when a peace deal was reached with the last faction, FARC (Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia).

Mini-Mal was an extension of former agronomist Martínez’s research into alternative uses of plants and animals, acknowledging the rights of Afro-Colombian communities on the Pacific coast. Descendants of West African slaves, they and Indigenous peoples had no land rights before the 1991 constitution. “They were guardians of all this biodiversity and Indigenous produce but they had no idea of the treasures they possessed. Moreover, they had no customers,” says Martínez. Growing coca leaves for cocaine producers was often a good option for farmers. “During the narcoterrorism of the ’90s, there was a huge exodus of chefs from Colombia. The restaurant was a platform to empower suppliers economically and help them take pride in their identities.”

At first, “rolos”—the Bogotános—were perplexed by Mini-Mal’s ingredients, from mollusks harvested in Pacific mangroves to umami-packed tucupí, fermented from cassava by women in the Amazon. “Before, pasta was the luxury,” says Martínez’s wife and partner, Antonuela Ariza. “Now it’s tucupí.”

A nearby mansion is the new home of Salvo Patria—Save the Homeland—the seasonal, waste-conscious restaurant of Juan Manuel Ortiz and Alejandro Gutiérrez Vélez. Originally a café, it was founded in 2011 by Ortiz, who previously worked in Melbourne as a barista. “I was told that Colombian coffee was the best in the world, but at home we were only drinking Nescafé,” or coffee that was “too low quality to sell”, he tells me. Traditionally, Colombians made “sock coffee”, filtered through a cloth and sweetened with sugar cane juice. Ortiz changed that with V60 drippers and quality domestic beans from small producers—a matter of national pride for the world’s largest exporter of washed Arabica beans. Gutiérrez Vélez, who grew up close to the coffee-growing Antioquia region and had worked at Virgilio Martínez’s Central in Lima, headed the kitchen at the Salvo Patria restaurant.

“I grew up with the violence of the 1980s and 1990s so I was ashamed of being Colombian. We only had Shakira to be proud of,” says Gutiérrez Vélez, standing before jars of experimental fermentations with Amazonian macambo shells and lulo fruit. “It was a conscious thing to build our identity, our culinary multiculturalism, our biodiversity. Food can help keep people out of poverty and fight the violence that arises from it.” On his menus are Pacific tuna with chontaduro, the heart-shaped fruit of peach palms; and chargrilled cubios, ancient tubers from the northern Andes, on a mash of corn husk, sourced from a women’s cooperative in Montes de María, a former conflict zone in the Caribbean.

Another Bogotá resident changing narratives is sommelier Laura Hernández Espinosa, the daughter of pioneering chef Leonor Espinosa. Leonor was named the world’s best female chef in 2022 for the “ciclo-bioma” tasting menus at her Chapinero restaurant Leo, which involve ingredients such as mojojoy rainforest worms, Andean cacay nuts, and pulantana, a decaffeinated coffee alternative from the Guajira desert. Laura headed her mother’s Funleo foundation, working with producers across the country. In 2021 she launched Territorio, a range of seven distillates that use native ingredients such as passion flowers and coca leaves. It’s her way of disrupting the state’s monopoly on such drinks, which “suffocated artisanal production”, she says from her La Sala de Laura bistro above her mother’s restaurant. She is also inspired by the country’s women who are “protecting their traditions and families”.

Palazzo Previtera Kitchen & Bar

SALVO PANEBIANCOfotografo

Palazzo Previtera Kitchen & Bar, Linguaglossa

Wiggle up the narrow lanes of Linguaglossa, a sooty Baroque town on the slopes of Mount Etna, and you’ll reach the mustard, understated exterior of Palazzo Previtera. Inside, a nostalgic feast of Italian maximalism has been scrupulously returned to its former glory by Alfio Puglisi, whose family have owned this shrunk-in-the-wash, flamboyant palazzo since the 17th century. Alfio’s tenure is timely, with Etna’s community-focused renaissance seeing new-wave wine makers, chefs, restaurateurs, and creatives moving from European cities to the volcano’s fertile slopes. The guesthouse’s new restaurant, helmed by chef Alberto Carpinteri and chef Kaita Osumimoto (of Alto and Gagini pedigree), uses Etna’s mineral-rich offerings for an intriguing blend of Japanese and Mediterranean cuisine (expect gyoza-shaped ravioli stuffed with red porgy, or perciasacchi (a Sicilian ancient grain) tagliatelle with chicory cream and courtyard bottarga). Seasonal ingredients powering the mercifully compact tasting menu are sourced from local farmers or foraged from the volcano’s fertile slopes (grapes, saffron, mushrooms). And the restaurant itself exudes the cosiness of home, with guests tucking into Sicilian gazpacho and hanger steaks marinated in koji beneath the palazzo’s mediaeval vaulted ceilings, and alongside the chefs cooking in the traditional, marble-topped open kitchen.

Casa Diodoros, Agrigento

Only in Sicily can a gently renovated farm, now a family-run restaurant and cooking school, set around a pretty cobbled courtyard, sit mere feet below a beautifully preserved Roman temple. Indeed, Casa Diodoros lies just below the Temple of Concordia, via a herb-lined series of steps, in Agrigento’s UNESCO-listed Valley of the Temples, with a sustainable agricultural mission granting its privileged perch. Behind the warmly lit barn restaurant, lined with chicken-wire cabinets displaying the area’s history, and the flavor-packed, home-cooked classics (bean stews, traditional pasta, moreish baked ricotta and pumpkin focaccia with a warm, pillowy center), is a commitment to boosting organic production of the park’s native bounty: pistachios, almonds, saffron, ancient grains, olives, traditional fruits. To get a sense of the project, you can book in for tasting sessions and cooking workshops, such as a four-hour baking class with Casa Diodoros’s pizza chef, mastering the art of traditional Sicilian bread and pizza, sprinkled with seasonal toppings from the park larder.

Duomo, Ragusa

Streets lined with pastel Baroque palaces that peter out into little cave houses peering across the Hyblean Mountains, Ragusa Ibla is a storybook town with a more Brothers Grimm flavor than its splendidly grand, South Eastern Baroque cousins that dot the UNESCO-listed Val di Noto. Its architecture alone keeps a constant stream of visitors, eager to snooze in up-lit “cave rooms” and admire the flamboyant, baby-blue palazzi sandwiching the puppet theaters. But its old town is also a siren call for the gourmands, who beeline for its collection of plush, moodily-lit restaurants, Duomo being the first. Helmed by leading Sicilian chef, Ciccio Sultano, two-Michelin star Duomo is spread across four rooms—a perfect sliver of Baroque Palazzo La Rocco. The philosophy is simple: source the very best Sicilian produce from local suppliers, often using traditional methods, as culinary creativity is lost on substandard ingredients. As such, Sicily’s finest, salt-infused bounty is whipped up into artistic plates honoring Sicily’s mosaic-like history of multiple occupiers. Punters can opt for the inventive (not overly kooky or frothy) eight-course tasting menu with a Sicilian-focused wine pairing, or veer off piste with three or four larger dishes: rock fish Palermo style with eggplant; unctuous spaghetti with muscle “lips” eel and wild fennel; an intriguing twist on the humble caprese salad; or tender Sicilian lamb that slices like butter and thwacks taste buds with very little help in the herb department. Everything, from the perfectly-formed Sicilian cassata puddings (an Arab-influenced Catanian classic) all the way to the wafer-thin glasses and art, reveals Sultano’s exacting standards.

In the 10 years since La Divina opened, it has transformed from a Mexican grocery store with a limited food menu into the Buffalo’s premiere taco destination. The reason? Authentic street tacos at an unbeatable price and an array of house-made salsas that add a flavor bomb to each bite (trust us, get the avocado sauce). The tacos run small, so we recommend ordering three to four depending on your hunger level. The barbacoa, al pastor, lengua (tongue), and cecina (air-dried, salted steak) are our favorites, and there are four outstanding veggie options for non-meat eaters. Tortas arrive on fresh telera bread grilled to perfection with avocado, mayo, lettuce, tomato, onion, cheese, crema, and jalapeños.

Kuni’s has been serving sushi and other specialties—think mackerel or salmon in a vinegary miso—for 30 years.

Kuni’s

226 Lexington Ave

Led by chef and owner Kuni Sato, this warm and inviting restaurant has been celebrating the art of sushi for nearly 30 years. If it’s your first time dining at Kuni’s, start with the ebi-su, which offers delicately sliced shrimp atop cucumbers and wakame, finished with a vinegary soy sauce, or the whole grilled squid served with sweet and spicy chili sauce. For your entrée, you can’t go wrong with the chef’s choice sushi or sashimi combos, which are available in small and large sizes. You can expect traditional salmon, tuna, and red snapper sashimi, but chef always has a seasonal specialty or two to help make the meal memorable. Kuni’s also has an extensive Japanese whiskey library and over 20 premium sakes. We suggest talking to the staff who can recommend a sake flight pairing based on your order.

710 Elmwood Ave

Tucked away on a quiet cobblestone alley, you might miss High Violet if you weren’t looking for it. Once you step inside, you’ll be transported out of Buffalo and into a chic cocktail lounge fit for Manhattan, Tokyo, or Paris. Thanks to impeccable interior design featuring velvet upholstery, mid-century modern furniture, and gorgeous lighting fixtures, co-owners Jon Eisenberg and Joseph Stocker, along with their other partners, have created one of the most intimate spaces in the city. High Violet is the perfect place to start or end your night. We recommend ordering oysters for the table and indulging in either the Flora and Fauna or the Queen of Thorns, with the Meat is Murder (an old-fashioned with wagyu-washed bourbon) a worthy splurge at $50. High Violet shares a patio with No Fun Lo-Fi Bar, a listening bar inspired by Japanese kissaten, which Stocker also co-owns. Pop in to enjoy vinyl DJs spinning techno, house, hip-hop, and more.

1198 Hertel Ave