Skillet’s elevated diner fare makes me sigh a big “duh” for this category. The diner opened on Capitol Hill in 2011 after a successful start as a food truck. A highbrow approach to comfort food makes the dishes here accessible yet refined, so as you scarf down a burger with Skillet’s famous bacon jam and blue cheese and a big pile of fries, you somehow feel like a glutton and a sophisticated eater at the same time. The beef, after all, is sourced from Painted Hills, known for its ethical and sustainable approach to cow-raising, and you’ve paid a respectable $14 for the privilege. My heart broke when Skillet, as it does every now and again, changed half of its menu, doing away with a blissful steak swimming in a rich bordelaise sauce under a teepee of potato wedges with perfectly crisped skin. But I digress. There aren’t many places where I’d feel justified waxing poetic about a dripping-with-grease grilled-cheese (on brioche! With bacon jam!) or fried chicken (delicate sprinkles of fennel float through the batter), but at Skillet, anything goes. I even forgive the purposefully hip ambience, with plaid-clad waitstaff and Ball jars for beer and water.