There’s a distinct Texas twang to Odd Duck on South Lamar. It’s wood smoke, fire, chiles, game, and Gulf Coast seafood, with a menu that riffs on classic Texan dishes like tamales, green chili pork shoulder, or icebox cake. What’s brilliant about this casual and upbeat restaurant is that the menu gets revamped at a rapid-fire pace. From day to day, week to week, every dish is subject to change. It’s the kind of place you go back to over and over again, and it never gets old.

With only one seating each night at Tsuke Edomae, securing a reservation is not easy. Other spots might feel more celebratory, or provide more value for your dollar. But you’re here to try edomae-style sushi in its purest form—combining a blend of thick-grained rice, aged vinegars, and high quality fish with nothing but wasabi and soy sauce. Each piece is served to one guest at a time, and when your turn comes, it’s just you, the nigiri, and seven curious diners, attentively waiting their turn.

Austin doesn’t have a lot of places that fit the bill for fine dining, but we do have Jeffrey’s. It’s a little bit classic French, a little bit standard American steakhouse, and every bit a place where you come to celebrate big milestones in exchange for a bill you’ll try to avoid thinking about. It’s a classy restaurant with a martini cart, and where epic 30+ day dry-aged steaks occupy half of the tables, next to golden osetra caviar, seared foie gras, and deviled eggs topped with truffles.

Nixta isn’t the place you come when you want to scarf down half-a-dozen small, street-style tacos. It’s where you go when you want to experience unique, rich Mexican flavors that just happen to arrive on a nixtamalized corn tortilla. It’s unstuffy and unpretentious, but seasonal ingredients and a great list of natural wines make it equally suited for special occasions and random Tuesday nights (but you can also just get a Modelo).

You probably came to this list to see if Franklin Barbecue is on it, or if we were contrarians who refuse to praise it for what it is—the best smoked brisket in Texas. Maybe the world. This is the Sistine Chapel of smoked meats, and it’s worth visiting just to pay your respects at one point in your life. Sure, you might be able to get better versions of ribs, pulled pork, and potato salad at other spots. But the brisket here is a religious experience that you can get every day at Franklin.

There's always a wait at the East Side staple Joe’s Bakery & Coffee Shop, and that’s because of the phenomenal breakfast tacos ensconced in fluffy housemade flour tortillas. Order the migas with chips that are still a little crispy, the tender carne guisada, and the glorious, crunchy bacon that somehow defies the very laws of pork belly physics.

Set in an old, white house that was probably featured on Southern Living magazine at some point, Olamaie occupies the space in the middle of the Venn diagram between Southern comfort food and classic fine dining. Get there a little early so you can sit on the breezy back porch with a cocktail. But eventually the smell of fresh-baked biscuits—or the fear of Olamaie’s grilled pork chops selling out—lures you in.

Bufalina has been Austin’s original pizza-and-natural-wine spot since it opened in 2013. With bare Edison bulbs and unfinished walls, it always felt kind of like an underground clubhouse, but with esoteric wines alongside classic and sometimes unconventional Neapolitan pies. The pizzas are great, but the devastatingly excellent pastas transform Bufalina from a simple pizza joint into an Italian restaurant worth waiting for a table in a parking lot in the blazing Texas summertime sun.

There’s a lot more to Central Texas-style barbecue than brisket alone, and there’s no better place to experience this than at Leroy And Lewis, especially with its smoked beef cheeks, barbacoa, and cauliflower burnt ends. It’s a food truck where vegans can find a smoky, common ground with people who don’t even know how to spell the word “broccoli.” Because this is Austin, and this city prides itself on creativity, innovation, and being vegan-friendly.

For tacos even similar to the ones you can get at Cuantos Tacos, you’d have to get on a plane and fly to Mexico City. And while we encourage you to do that at some point, it can be a long commute for a Taco Tuesday dinner. The specialty here is Mexico City-style tacos—the tiny type packed full of finely minced meat—intended to be eaten in about two bites. We can’t promise you’ll experience side effects of elation, ecstasy, euphoria, and excitement, but we also can’t promise that you won’t.