A Japanese family finishes dinner. The dishes are mostly empty; the children are squirming, wanting to leave the table; the mother is starting to clear. Before anyone moves to leave, each person sets down their chopsticks, brings their hands together briefly in front of the chest, makes a small bow toward the table, and says: “gochisousama deshita.” Then they stand up and the table-clearing begins. The whole closing ritual takes perhaps three seconds. It happens at the end of every meal in this household, every day, the way itadakimasu opens the meal at the start.
This is gochisousama (or gochisousama deshita, the past-tense form), and it’s the closing bookend of the Japanese meal. If itadakimasu opens the meal with grateful reception, gochisousama closes it with grateful acknowledgment of what was received. The two phrases work as a pair, and most Japanese meals — household, restaurant, school, even some quick lunches — are bracketed by both of them. Skipping either feels incomplete to anyone who grew up with the practice.
What the word literally is
御馳走様 (gochisousama) breaks down as go (honorific prefix) + chisou (馳走) + sama (respectful suffix). The middle compound chisou is the interesting part. It’s built from chi (馳, to run, to gallop) + sou (走, to run). Literally: “running around,” with the implied object of “for the meal.”
The etymology references the host’s labor: in pre-modern Japan, hosting a guest for a meal involved running around — sourcing ingredients, going to the market, coordinating the preparation, often literally running between locations to gather what was needed. Chisou originally named this hospitality-labor; over time, it came to mean “feast” or “meal” by extension.
The polite form gochisousama is “honored running-around-feast person” — a respectful acknowledgment of the host’s work. The full polite form, gochisousama deshita, adds the past-tense polite copula deshita: “it was a (your) running-around feast” — explicitly past, explicitly acknowledging that the meal-providing labor has now been completed.
What’s being acknowledged
Like itadakimasu, the closing phrase carries multiple layers:
The cook’s labor. Most explicitly. The person who prepared the meal — usually a family member at home, a chef at a restaurant — is acknowledged for the work that produced the meal.
The supply chain behind the meal. Implicitly, all the labor and resources that brought the food to the table are recognized. This includes farmers, fishermen, transporters, market sellers — the entire chain that makes the meal possible.
The lives of the food. Like itadakimasu, the closing phrase carries Buddhist undertones of gratitude for the lives the food represents.
Completion of the meal as event. The phrase explicitly marks the meal as done. The eating phase is over; the next phase begins.
Most Japanese speakers don’t consciously parse these layers when saying the phrase, but the layered meaning is preserved in the cultural understanding. Asked to explain what gochisousama means, most Japanese people will articulate some combination of these layers — usually emphasizing thanks to the cook.
The matching pair
The relationship to itadakimasu is structural. The two phrases bracket the meal:
Before eating: itadakimasu. “I humbly receive” — opens with grateful reception.
After eating: gochisousama deshita. “It was a (your) running-around feast” — closes with grateful acknowledgment of the providing-labor.
The pair is reliable. Households that observe one nearly always observe the other. Restaurants that prompt customers with itadakimasu-friendly framing also expect the closing gochisousama. Schools teach both together. Children learn them as a unit, not as separate vocabulary.
Saying only one feels incomplete. A meal opened with itadakimasu but closed without gochisousama hangs unresolved; a meal closed with gochisousama but never opened with itadakimasu registers as having started without proper acknowledgment. The two phrases together complete the ritual; either alone is partial.
When and where it’s said
Common contexts:
End of family meals at home. Universal. Said by each person before leaving the table; sometimes in unison, sometimes individually as people finish.
End of restaurant meals. Said to the staff, especially when leaving. The staff respond with their own thanks (arigatou gozaimashita). At small family-run restaurants, the exchange is warm and personal; at large chains, it’s still typical.
End of school and workplace cafeteria meals. Quietly, often to oneself, when finishing the meal.
After receiving a snack or drink. If someone offers you a small treat, eating it and then saying gochisousama at the end registers thanks for the gift.
At the end of someone’s hospitality. When leaving a friend’s house after they’ve fed you, gochisousama deshita is essential.
The phrase is rarely skipped. Most Japanese speakers say it automatically at meal-end, sometimes even when eating alone. Like itadakimasu, it’s become semi-automatic — a small habitual ritual rather than a deliberately performed gesture.
The variations
Gochisousama deshita — formal/standard, past tense, used in most contexts.
Gochisousama — slightly less formal but still polite. Casual.
Gochisousan — very casual, slightly old-fashioned, used by older speakers and in family contexts.
Gochisousama deshita, oishikatta desu — extended, “thanks for the meal, it was delicious.” Adds explicit appreciation; common when complimenting the cook.
O-sushi gochisousama deshita — naming the specific food. Adds appreciation for the specific item served.
Different forms suit different contexts. The standard gochisousama deshita is appropriate almost everywhere; variations let speakers add warmth, informality, or specific appreciation as needed.
The hand gesture
The accompanying physical gesture mirrors itadakimasu:
Hands placed together palm-to-palm in front of the chest. Small bow toward the table or the host. Brief eye contact with the cook, if present. The gesture is gentle, not performative — small enough not to interrupt the post-meal flow.
In casual settings (eating alone, eating quickly), the verbal phrase may be said without the gesture. In formal settings (dinner with hosts, formal restaurants), the gesture is consistent.
The same hand gesture for both itadakimasu and gochisousama creates a visual bracket — the meal opened and closed with the same physical sign of acknowledgment.
To whom it’s said
The directionality of the closing phrase varies slightly by context:
To the cook directly — when there’s a clear cook present. Family meal: said to the parent who cooked. Restaurant: said to the chef or staff. Dinner at a friend’s: said to the host.
To the table generally — when no specific person is the obvious recipient. Self-cooked meal alone: said to nobody specific, just performing the closing.
To the food itself / to the situation — in semi-religious or contemplative interpretations, the phrase honors the meal as event rather than any specific person.
In practice, most Japanese speakers don’t consciously distinguish these directions. The phrase is performed; the recipients implicit. The act of saying it completes the meal.
Using it yourself
For a non-Japanese visitor or resident:
Say it at the end of every meal in Japan, especially in restaurants and at host’s homes. The pronunciation is approximately go-chi-sou-sa-ma de-shi-ta (the final “u” of desu/deshita is essentially silent). Pair it with itadakimasu at the start; the bracket is what completes the cultural fluency. Use the past tense (deshita) form by default — appropriate for the standard situation of meal completed. To add warmth, follow with oishikatta desu (it was delicious) or sugoku oishikatta desu (it was extremely delicious). The compliment is genuinely appreciated.
Foreign visitors who use both itadakimasu and gochisousama consistently in restaurants and home-meal settings register as paying attention. The phrases are small, easy to learn, and signal genuine engagement with Japanese conversational fabric.
The principle underneath
What gochisousama really does, beyond closing the meal, is structurally complete the Japanese cultural treatment of eating as event. The opening (itadakimasu) and closing (gochisousama) bracket the meal as something distinct from ordinary time — a ritual moment with definite start and end, performed with verbal acknowledgment, framing the eating itself as worthy of small ceremony.
Most cultures eat without ceremony in everyday contexts. Japanese culture maintains a small ceremony at the start and end of every meal, performed thousands of times across a lifetime, training a sustained relationship between eaters and the meals they eat. The ceremony costs three seconds. It produces a daily small ritual of acknowledgment that the meal happened, that it was provided by someone, that the eating was complete.
For a non-Japanese reader, the takeaway is the same as for itadakimasu: that small four-syllable rituals, said reliably across years, can shape relationships to food in ways unceremonied eating cannot. The food gets eaten either way. But the eating is different when it’s been formally received and formally completed. The Japanese version of dinner has been bracketed; the meal as event has been honored at both ends. The dishes are cleared, the table is wiped, and the family moves on into the rest of the evening, with the small ceremony already performed.