Nakama South Side Pittsburgh: What Really Happened to This Hibachi Giant

Nakama South Side Pittsburgh: What Really Happened to This Hibachi Giant

Walk down East Carson Street today and the vibe is... different. For over two decades, the corner of 17th and Carson was anchored by a neon-lit, high-energy temple of flying shrimp and flaming onion volcanoes. Nakama South Side Pittsburgh wasn't just a restaurant; it was a cultural landmark for anyone who grew up in the 410 or came into the city for a 21st birthday.

It’s gone now.

It happened quietly in May 2025. One day, reservations were being made, and the next, employees were showing up to locked doors. No grand farewell tour. No "thanks for the memories" social media blitz. Just a dead phone line and a "permanently closed" tag on Google that left a lot of Yinzers wondering how a place that was perpetually packed for twenty years could just... evaporate.

The Rise and Fall of Nakama South Side Pittsburgh

Nakama opened its doors in September 2003. Back then, the South Side was in its "wild west" phase—a mix of gritty dive bars and a sudden influx of upscale nightlife. Owners Joe Collincini and Becky Gomes took an old Rite Aid and turned it into a sleek, American Renaissance-style teppanyaki palace.

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For a long time, it was the spot. If a Steeler was in the house, they were probably in the private dining room at Nakama.

Honestly, the food was almost secondary to the theater. You went for the "show"—the clanging spatulas, the beating heart made of fried rice, and the sake bombs. But by the time 2024 rolled around, the luster was starting to fade. The Wexford location had already folded the previous summer.

Why did it actually close?

The truth is usually a messy cocktail of factors. While management stayed largely silent during the final days, the paper trail left by the Allegheny County Health Department painted a pretty grim picture. In late 2024, inspectors found significant violations including inadequate pest management. We're talking mice under the hibachi grills. Not exactly the kind of "dinner theater" people pay $40 for.

Combine that with the changing landscape of the South Side—rising crime concerns, the shift in nightlife toward Lawrenceville, and the sheer overhead of maintaining a massive footprint on East Carson—and the math just stopped working.

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What Made Nakama... Nakama?

Despite the messy ending, you can't deny the impact. For a whole generation of Pittsburghers, Nakama was their first introduction to "fancy" Japanese dining, even if the purists on Reddit argued it was about as authentic as a Primanti's sandwich in Tokyo.

  • The Signature Hibachi: Their Hibachi Strip Steak and Filet Mignon were the bread and butter. You didn't just get meat; you got a side of soup, a salad with that thick orange ginger dressing (you know the one), and a shrimp appetizer.
  • The Sake Bombs: If you didn't see a table of twenty-somethings chanting while pounding on a table until a shot of sake fell into a Sapporo, were you even at Nakama?
  • The Famous "Steak Sauce": People used to try and reverse-engineer that sauce at home. A mix of ginger, garlic, and mystery that worked on literally everything.

The Local Verdict: Love it or Hate it?

Pittsburgh has a weird relationship with its institutions. When Nakama was voted "Best Japanese Restaurant" year after year in local polls, food critics usually rolled their eyes. They’d point toward the more authentic spots in Squirrel Hill.

But Nakama wasn't trying to be an authentic sushi den. It was an entertainment venue that served dinner.

Local developer David Turner, who had taken over ownership later in the restaurant's life, tried to steer the ship through the post-pandemic waters, but the momentum was lost. By early 2025, reviews started mentioning long wait times even with reservations and equipment that felt like it hadn't been updated since the George W. Bush administration.

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Looking Toward the Future of 1611 East Carson Street

So, what’s next for that massive space?

Rumors have been flying since the closure. Some people want it to go back to being a pharmacy (the irony would be delicious), while others are hoping for a more modern food hall concept. Given the historical status of the building—which actually won a preservation award back in 2005—whoever moves in next will have to respect the architecture, if not the onion volcanoes.

If you're still craving that specific hibachi itch, the options in the city are shrinking. You’ve still got the national chains like Benihana out in the suburbs, but the era of the "independent hibachi giant" in the heart of the city seems to be closing its doors.

Actionable Insights for Former Nakama Fans

  • Check Your Gift Cards: If you have old Nakama gift cards, they are essentially paperweights at this point. Since the business did not file for a structured Chapter 11 that protects gift card holders in a transition, there is currently no way to redeem them.
  • Explore the New Wave: If you miss the sushi but not the noise, head over to Lawrenceville or the Strip District. Places like Gi-Jin offer a high-end experience that focuses on the fish rather than the flame.
  • Support the South Side: Don't let the closure of a big name scare you off East Carson. Smaller, independent spots like Cupka's Cafe 2 are still there and need the foot traffic more than ever.
  • The Food Truck Mystery: Nakama did have a food truck that made rounds at local breweries. While the physical restaurant is gone, keep an eye on local food truck rallies; sometimes these assets are sold off and continue to operate under the same name for a while.

Nakama was a vibe that defined a specific era of Pittsburgh. It was loud, it was expensive, and it was unapologetically "extra." Whether you loved the flaming grills or couldn't stand the noise, the South Side feels a little quieter without it.