The BEST New

IT’S SELDOM SILENT IN MIAMI. THE AIR IS FULL OF CRICKETS AND the mm-tss, mm-tss of house music and the staccato backfires of souped-up whips gunnin’ down the causeway. But in the neighborhood of Little River, another welcome sound can be heard: the oceanic murmur of folks enjoying themselves. You hear it when you approach Sunny’s, a vast steakhouse where inside and outside blend together, Miami style. Sunny’s is a party. Like, the best party in town. The vibes are impeccable, and the food is so good that you make that face between disbelief and disgust that somehow conveys ecstasy. This year at Esquire, we’ve seen dozens of new restau

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Sunny's in Miami.

But in the neighborhood of Little River, another welcome sound can be heard: the oceanic murmur of folks enjoying themselves. You hear it when you approach Sunny’s, a vast steakhouse where inside and outside blend together, Miami style. Sunny’s is a party. Like, the best party in town. The vibes are impeccable, and the food is so good that you make that face between disbelief and disgust that somehow conveys ecstasy. This year at Esquire, we’ve seen dozens of new restaurants like this, places where spectacular food is coupled with a damn good time—where ambition and abandon meet. These are the places you hate to leave, but when you do, you leave full. Full of some of the most deeply personal food you can remember eating, full of joy and ideas and hope. You stumble out, way past your bedtime, practically dancing in the street.

Sunny's, for instance, is the most fun of a new generation of American steakhouses, with none of the traditional dick swinging but all of the swagger. In Oakland, after the last cheese-frosted pies are served, a place called June's Pizza turns into an after-hours dance bender, with vintage speakers making even the oven jump. We've seen this again and again in 2025: At places like RVR in Los Angeles, Side A in San Francisco, Lupe's Situ Tacos in Seattle (where the chef is actually a local rock drummer), and Kabawa in New York City (where the playlist deserves a Grammy), this has been the Year of the Good Time. A good time not in an “ostrich in the sand” way or in a “decline and fall of the Roman Empire” mode. A good time founded on the recognition that good times—with friends around a table, breaking bread—are more important than ever in chaotic, topsy-turvy years like these. –Joshua David Stein

RVR VENICE, CALIFORNIA