Discover America's Best-Rated Venues

The best restroom I've found in Michigan, inside a private club you need a member to get into. Judged as hospitality, nothing in Detroit is close.

Finally, a proper place to get sushi in the city: the look, the vibe and the quality dialed in, and a lounge next door you reach without going outside.

Way more my speed than a dive: classy start to finish, live music, a cigar lounge upstairs, and one of the best happy hours downtown that I'd rather keep quiet.

This place has a pulse: a long, cinematic hallway of Mediterranean plants and low LED light, ending at restroom doors somebody actually painted.

A tight squeeze built for two, and one of the nicest restroom setups I've reviewed in Corktown sitting behind it.

A side door off downtown Detroit that lands you somewhere between old money and old stories. Mad Men furniture, dim light, and details that are the whole point.

Cozy, moody, warm vinyl and service that knows what it's doing. The nightcap after Hiroki-San, without stepping outside.

Old Detroit money in the best way: elegant, quiet, polished and a little mysterious. Walk in and you stand up straighter.

A tiny, candlelit natural-wine bar down a hallway in the Siren, with about ten seats and no reservations. Get there early or plan to stand with a glass.

Hands down the best coffee I've had in Detroit, maybe Michigan. If you're a coffee snob, you have to go.

A wine bar in a 1910 firehouse that kept the fire pole, with two of the better restrooms in the city. The pricing is the part that gives you pause.

Three inclusive rooms, a changing table and an open wash area above Eastern Market. One of the most genuinely accessible restaurants I've reviewed in this city.

My place. Not because it's close to home, but because it feels like home — Corktown's dinner table, and my favorite restaurant in Detroit.

Right in the thick of it: brutal game-day parking outside, and a polished date-night room with an approachable bar inside.

A wine bar and cookbook shop for people who actually read the label, with two of the best-kept rooms in the city behind the shelves.

The old Astro Coffee space, filled well: local espresso, plants, baked goods and no WiFi. Two private rooms tucked at the back.

My favorite breakfast spot in Detroit, and it comes down to three things: options, real coffee, and a mimosa made with actual champagne.

Barú is different, and you can feel it: a room with a pulse, summer doing the work outside, and a glowing vinyl bar downstairs that gives off a little LA.

One of those Corktown spots that just makes sense: maybe the best poutine in Michigan, and breakfast prices that don't finance a brunch empire.

Southwest Detroit cooking that stops the conversation at the table, and two amber-lit private rooms that match the mood of the room.

I want everything on this menu. The move across the street was an upgrade: an approachable bar, sake and Japanese whisky, and a room that fits more people.

A good-looking little coffee shop on Gratiot with just-okay coffee. The restrooms are where it earns its points.

Serious energy: colorful decor and artwork, a space for mingling and wandering, and restrooms somebody obviously showed some love.

Still one of the best places in Detroit to grab a salad: fast, fresh and free of health-food theater, with two restrooms that match the room.

Detroit in a tuxedo: all wood, low light and some of the best live jazz in the city. The walk to the restroom takes you past the drummer.

A Detroit building that got a second life without losing its first: a real patio, a Michigan Central view, and a bar that covers Guinness, cocktails and red wine properly.

A restaurant I still love, with a walk to the restroom that feels like a trek through the jungle. Privacy to spare; everything else falls behind.

Top-ten coffee in the city, built like a place that wants you to keep moving. One restroom, well fitted, with no privacy from the order line.

A 1902 Detroit bar that feels poured straight out of the floorboards. The Guinness needs work. The men's room was cleaner than I expected.

A Kreuzberg-inspired Corktown room built for long summer nights, that closed on me before the World Cup match got going. Good bones, underwhelming night.

One of those places you somehow miss until you don't: speakeasy from the outside, beer and pool on the inside. The in-between Detroit spot.

A quiet Woodbridge coffee stop that belongs exactly where it is: old homes around it, a patio for summer, and a little market inside.

A good-looking New Center room with a glowing jukebox and an Old Fashioned that didn't move me. One clean bathroom for the whole bar.

A Corktown distillery bar where the circular bar makes you talk to strangers. Good cocktails — I'd still lean Sugar House or Bad Luck.

A small, glowing room with drinks worth the trip, and one restroom down a candlelit hallway with a step in it. The atmosphere is not in question.

Smoked Old Fashioneds worth the trip, in a bar whose one restroom at least looks the part.

My favorite bar in Detroit, and the restrooms are the price of admission. A German beer hall since 1933, where the stall upstairs has no door.

A classic Corktown Irish pub that I wanted to love more than I did. Two rooms for a pub this size, and a pint that didn't get the care it should.

Downtown's everything-restaurant, breakfast to cocktails, that felt like a hotel lobby bar. One drink, then I'd keep walking.

A hell of a Corktown room and tater tots worth coming back for. The burger didn't move me, and there's one restroom, down in the basement.

Twenty-five dollars a year buys the best pint in Michigan and a room that knows exactly how to party. The men's room is where it falls apart.

Detroit in one room: loud, rough, friendly, and the best neighborhood vibe I've felt in a while. The men's room is another story.