How to Order at a Tokyo Izakaya Without Looking Like a Tourist

The sliding door rattles open, someone behind the counter shouts “irasshaimase!” — welcome — and every head in the room turns toward you for a half-second. You’re standing at the entrance of a narrow izakaya (a Japanese pub-style restaurant) in Shinjuku’s Omoide Yokocho, smoke from skewered yakitori drifting past the red paper lanterns, and the host is already waiting for a number. You hold up two fingers. Good start. Then you sit down, the laminated menu lands in front of you, and the categories are in kanji with no pictures. The server is back in thirty seconds. This is the moment textbook Japanese does not prepare you for.

Izakayas are the center of Tokyo social life: where friends unwind after work, where deals get done over cold beer and grilled chicken, where the language is fast, clipped, and nothing like the polite dialogue in a language app. Knowing how to handle the ritual from entry to final check — what to say, when to say it, and what the server expects to hear — changes the whole experience. This post will show you what actually helps.

Why This Matters More Than You Think

Most travelers walk into a Tokyo izakaya armed with “sumimasen” and a pointing finger. That gets you fed, but it marks you immediately, and it closes off a surprising amount of the interaction. The server switches to slower, simpler Japanese or tries English, and the easy warmth of the place — the reason you came — stays behind a wall.

The izakaya ordering ritual has specific moves that locals make automatically: the first-round drink order before food, the way you catch the server’s attention without shouting, the phrase that tells the kitchen you’re done for the night. Each of these is a small thing, but get them right and the whole table feels different. Miss them and the evening turns into a series of awkward pauses where someone is unsure what you need.

The Izakaya Scene, Step by Step

Step 1: Getting seated

After the host counts your group, you will hear “nan-mei-sama desu ka?” — how many people? Hold up fingers or say the number with “-mei” or “-nin”: “futari” (two people) or “san-nin” (three people). The host will lead you to a low table or counter seats. Horigotatsu tables — the ones with a recessed floor under them — are common; take your shoes off before stepping onto the tatami mat.

Step 2: The first drink comes before anything else

Within two minutes a server arrives for the drink order. This is not the food order — this is the toorinkuru (the first-round drinks), and it is expected to happen fast. The default first drink at almost every izakaya is nama biru, draft beer. Say “nama biru hitotsu, onegaishimasu” (one draft beer, please) and you are on solid footing. If you want something else: “toriaezu, [drink], onegaishimasu” — toriaezu [to-ree-AH-ez] means “for now” and signals you know the drill. Textbook Japanese would have you say “biiru wo kudasai,” which is grammatically correct but sounds a step too formal for a smoky counter seat in Shinjuku.

Step 3: The otoshi — the thing you didn’t order

A small dish will arrive with your drinks. You didn’t order it and you will be charged for it: this is the otoshi [oh-TOH-shi], a small appetizer that functions as the izakaya’s table charge. It replaces a cover charge and runs about 300 to 500 yen per person at most places. Do not send it back and do not ask what it is before it arrives. It is just part of the deal. Eat it, nod approvingly.

Step 4: Catching the server’s attention

When you are ready to order, you do not wave both arms or call out “excuse me” loudly. In Tokyo izakayas the correct move is to make brief eye contact with any passing staff member and say “sumimasen” [soo-mee-ma-SEN] at a normal speaking volume, maybe slightly raised. One word, once, and wait. The server will come. Repeat calls or snapping fingers lands as rude. If no one comes past, some izakayas have a call button at the table — a small plastic button labeled “call” or with a bell icon. Press it once and wait.

Step 5: Ordering food

Point at the menu item and say the name, then “-o hitotsu” (one of those) or “-o futatsu” (two of those), then “onegaishimasu.” For example: “tori no karaage o futatsu, onegaishimasu” — two orders of fried chicken, please. If you want to ask what something is, “kore wa nan desu ka?” [koh-reh wa nan des ka] — what is this? — works cleanly. The server will either explain or gesture. Accept the gesture gracefully.

A useful order phrase that textbooks skip: “osusume wa nan desu ka?” [oh-soo-SOO-meh wa nan des ka] — what do you recommend? This opens up a small human moment. The server will point at something on the menu and say “kore ga oishii desu” — this one is delicious. Order what they point at. You will not regret it.

Step 6: The round-by-round rhythm

Izakayas are not designed for one long order. The expected pattern is: drinks arrive, small plates arrive, more drinks are ordered, more plates come, and so on for two to three hours. When your glass is nearly empty and a server passes, you can say “moo ippon, onegaishimasu” — one more of the same, please — and gesture at your glass. This is the most natural thing at any Tokyo izakaya counter and it will land immediately.

Step 7: Ending the meal

When you are ready to finish, catch a server with “sumimasen” and say “o-kaikei, onegaishimasu” [oh-kai-KEH, oh-neh-gai-shi-mas] — the check, please. In almost every Tokyo izakaya, the bill is printed at the register and you pay on the way out, not at the table. Walk to the register with the bill the server hands you. Cash is still preferred at smaller places in Omoide Yokocho and similar lanes. If you want to check whether they take card, say “kaado wa tsukaemasuka?” [KAA-do wa tsoo-kah-eh-MAS-ka] — can I use a card?

The Phrases That Actually Help

Irasshaimase [ee-rah-SHAI-mah-seh]: the greeting shouted when you enter. You do not need to respond. A nod or small bow is enough.

Toriaezu, nama biru, onegaishimasu [to-ree-AH-ez, nah-mah bee-ROO, oh-neh-gai-shi-mas]: for now, a draft beer, please. The phrase toriaezu is the signal that you know the first-drink ritual. Textbook version is “biiru wo hitotsu kudasai,” which works but sounds like reading from a phrasebook.

Sumimasen [soo-mee-ma-SEN]: excuse me, used to flag a server. One short call. Not “sumimasen, sumimasen” twice in a row.

Osusume wa nan desu ka? [oh-soo-SOO-meh wa nan des ka]: what do you recommend? A single phrase that turns a transaction into a small conversation.

Kore o hitotsu, onegaishimasu [koh-reh oh hee-TOT-soo, oh-neh-gai-shi-mas]: one of this, please. The word kore (this) with a point at the menu is the fastest path to ordering when the item name is in kanji you cannot read.

Moo ippon, onegaishimasu [moh EE-ppon, oh-neh-gai-shi-mas]: one more of the same, please. Literally “one more bottle/glass.” Use when your beer or glass is running low.

Oishii desu [oh-EE-shee des]: it’s delicious. Say this once, clearly, when the food arrives and it’s good. The server or cook will hear it. It costs nothing and it means a lot.

Itadakimasu [ee-ta-da-kee-MAS]: said before eating, a brief ritual acknowledgment. Textbooks translate it as “let’s eat” but the feeling is closer to “I gratefully receive this.” Say it once when the food arrives, hands together briefly. You do not have to explain it or perform it elaborately.

Gochisōsama deshita [go-chee-SOH-sa-ma desh-ta]: said when you finish eating, to the room or to the server. Translates roughly as “that was a feast.” At an izakaya counter you say it to the person behind the bar on your way out. They will say it back or bow slightly. This single phrase does more for your impression than twenty minutes of practiced vocabulary.

O-kaikei, onegaishimasu [oh-kai-KEH, oh-neh-gai-shi-mas]: the check, please. No alternatives needed. This is what everyone says.

Kaado wa tsukaemasuka? [KAA-do wa tsoo-kah-eh-MAS-ka]: can I use a card? Ask this before you have finished ordering if you are not carrying cash, especially at smaller places in alleys like Omoide Yokocho in Shinjuku or the back streets of Shimokitazawa.

What Not to Do

Do not pour your own drink. In a group, you pour for others first and they pour for you. If your own glass is empty and no one has noticed, it is acceptable to pour your own at casual izakayas, but the instinct to reach across and fill someone else’s glass first is the right one. Watching the table is part of the social fabric.

Do not blow your nose at the table. Step outside or to a restroom. Sniffling quietly is more acceptable than blowing. This sounds minor until you do it and feel the temperature in the room shift.

Do not tip. Tipping is not part of Japanese restaurant culture and handing over extra money creates confusion and sometimes mild offense. The service cost is in the otoshi. Pay exactly what is on the bill.

Do not linger on the payment. At the register, have your money or card ready, say “arigatoo gozaimashita” [a-ree-ga-TOH go-zai-mash-ta] as you hand over the bill, and step aside quickly. The register area in a small izakaya is tight and other groups are waiting to pay behind you.

Do not assume the staff speaks English. In tourist-heavy areas like Shibuya or near Asakusa, staff often do. In local neighborhoods like Yanaka or Shimokitazawa, they may not, and visibly bracing for English puts everyone in an awkward mode before the meal starts. Starting in Japanese, even badly, shifts the energy immediately.

The Tokyo-Specific Detail That Changes Everything

Tokyo izakayas operate on two distinct registers that vary by neighborhood and type of venue. The sleek two-floor izakaya chains near Shinjuku station (the kind with tablets for ordering) run almost silently: you tap your order into a screen, the food arrives, and staff interaction is minimal. There is nothing wrong with this and it is where many travelers end up. But the standing-only tachinomi [ta-chee-NOH-mee] bars in Yurakucho under the train tracks, or the counter-only yakitori stalls in Omoide Yokocho, or the hole-in-the-wall in Yanaka where the same eight people have been coming for twenty years: these are different places. The phrases in this post are built for those rooms.

The older neighborhood izakayas are where the cook behind the counter is also the owner, where regulars call out their order before sitting down, and where a foreign visitor who knows “toriaezu nama biru” and “gochisōsama deshita” gets treated like a regular on the second visit. The language is not a barrier in those places. It is the key.

One More Thing

If you want to practice these phrases before you land, the Tokyo Japanese guide on StreetTongue runs you through exactly these kinds of spoken interactions, with pronunciation feedback scored against real Tokyo speech patterns, not textbook audio. The gap between “correct Japanese” and “izakaya Japanese” is real, and you can hear it on every phrase.

For the full foundation of Tokyo’s dialect, the Tokyo Japanese slang guide covers the street-level vocabulary that connects to these moments. And if you’re comparing what to learn before an Osaka leg of the same trip, the Osaka Japanese slang guide shows where Kansai-ben diverges sharply from what you’ll hear at a Shinjuku counter.

The Free tier at StreetTongue gives you 500+ phrases and three pronunciation checks per day at no cost: enough to get through the izakaya sequence before your flight. If you want unlimited pronunciation reps in the weeks before you go and after you land, Max is $24.99/month, or go Lifetime for $229.99 once for unlimited access with no subscription at all.