Benihana Lights Up the Bay Area with Ten New Teppanyaki Hotspots

The Onion Volcano Is Coming to Town—Ten Times Over

San Francisco—The theatrical clatter of knives, the sizzle of steak on a scorching teppan grill, and the collective gasp as an onion ring stack erupts in a controlled tower of flame: Benihana’s signature dinner show is about to become a Bay Area weekend ritual on a scale the region has never seen.

Executives at the 57-year-old Japanese-inspired chain confirmed Tuesday that they will open 10 company-owned restaurants across the Bay Area over the next four years, beginning with a 9,000-square-foot flagship in San Jose’s Santana Row in early 2025. The expansion is the largest single-market rollout in Benihana’s history and will nearly double its California footprint.

Why the Bay, Why Now?

"We’ve watched the Bay’s appetite for experiential dining explode post-pandemic," said Benihana CEO Tom Baldwin during a walk-through of the Santana Row site. "Tech workers aren’t just craving sushi; they want a story to post."

The numbers back him up. Foot-traffic analytics firm Placer.ai reports that casual-dining chains offering interactive elements have rebounded 31 % faster in the Bay Area than traditional sit-down brands. Benihana’s own data shows its nearest location, in Daly City, has a 42 % repeat-visit rate—one of the highest in the system.

The Roadmap: From Silicon Valley to Wine Country

While leases are still being finalized, company sources say the lineup is likely to include:

• Santana Row, San Jose (Q1 2025)
• Valley Fair expansion wing, Santa Clara (Q3 2025)
• Brookfield Properties’ Uptown Oakland tower (Q4 2025)
• Stoneridge Shopping Center, Pleasanton (Q1 2026)
• Marin’s Village at Corte Madera (Q2 2026)
• Four additional Peninsula and North Bay sites slated for 2027–28

Each new restaurant will employ roughly 90 people—chefs trained for six months in the chain’s Las Vegas academy, servers certified in sake pairings, and technicians who can calibrate a 550-degree teppan in under four minutes.

A Legacy Reignited

Founded in 1964 by Olympic wrestler Rocky Aoki, Benihana turned hibachi into dinner theater and once claimed Frank Sinatra and Muhammad Ali as regulars. After Aoki’s death in 2008, growth slowed; private-equity buyouts shifted focus to airport kiosks and frozen entrées. The Bay Area blitz signals a return to the grand, communal tables that made the brand iconic.

"We’re not opening cookie-cutter malls spots," said Baldwin. "Every new Benihana will have a local design nod—redwood beams in Marin, graffiti murals in Oakland, retractable glass walls in Santana Row for that 68-degree December night."

Competition Heats Up

The announcement lands amid a flurry of Asian-influenced openings: Kura Revolving Sushi is adding five Bay Area locations, and chef-driven concepts like Niku Steakhouse and Nari are booking tables weeks out. Still, Benihana believes its hybrid of performance and nostalgia gives it an edge.

"Gen Z never saw Rocky flip a shrimp tail into his chef’s hat, but they’ll film it for TikTok if we bring it back," Baldwin quipped.

What Diners Can Expect

Beyond the onion volcano, the new menus will feature:

• A plant-based hibachi platter developed with Impossible Foods
• 18 new sake labels, including a private-label daiginjo brewed in Napa
• Interactive dessert bento boxes—DIY mochi ice cream sandwiches

Reservations for Santana Row open 90 days before launch; early sign-ups on the company’s app get a free sake flight and a chef’s photo op.

The Economic Ripple

San Jose’s Office of Economic Development estimates the flagship alone will generate $4.2 million in annual sales tax and attract 350,000 visitors per year. Nearby retailers are already lobbying for extended parking validation.

"When Benihana arrives, foot traffic jumps 12 % across the entire shopping district," said Rachel Kim, a retail analyst at CBRE. "It’s the dinner-and-a-show effect—people linger, spend, and post."

Bottom Line

For Bay Area residents who grew up blowing out birthday candles over fried rice, the expansion is nostalgia served sizzling. For newcomers, it’s a chance to taste a mid-century American original before it morphs into the next viral backdrop.

As Baldwin put it, sliding a gleaming spatula across an empty teppan, "We’re not just opening restaurants. We’re giving Silicon Valley something it can’t code—spontaneous, messy, human joy."