Pasta and Pizza / Pizza and Pasta Fantastico

Pasta and Pizza
32, Barnov Str.
Tel: (995 32) 98 29 82
11:00 a.m - 10:00 p.m

Pizza and Pasta Fantastico
3a, Napareuli Str.
Tel:(995 32) 29 46 75
10:30 a.m. - 10:30 p.m.

Tucked away in an easy-to-miss courtyard in Vera, Pasta and Pizza is a supremely pleasant, unpretentious place to eat. The restaurant is set back from the street, and has a long, narrow courtyard — lined with tables with Viking-capacity benches under broad umbrellas — leading up to the entrance.

The menu here is surprising in its scope and playfulness, with a good selection of entrees running the gamut from Italian and Alsatian pizzas, pasta, quiches, Turkish dishes, and a list of meat platters and vegan items.

Italian Bread Balls (available with or without garlic) — piping hot boules of baked dough, with a dab of olive oil and seasoned minced garlic inside — make a good appetizer. The Italian–style pizzas are delicious, with a good crust and a very flavorful marinara sauce under–girding their generously applied toppings. The Capri pizza (GEL 12.80) — with field mushrooms, tomatoes, pepperoni, peppers (listed as ‘paprika’), and olives — was especially good. The Alsatian (white) pizzas are a bit under–dressed. We tried one with sour cream, onion, garlic, and bacon (GEL 6.80), and while it was good — the topping was thick with bacon, and the onions had a gentle caramel aroma —l it didn’t compare to the Italian-style pizza vying for space on the table.

The restaurant has serves pasta straight up and al forno (baked). We tried the gnocchi with pesto (GEL 5.80) and the ‘lasagna legumi’ (vegetable lasagna, GEL 12.80). The gnocchi were freshly made — so much so that they didn’t hold their form. The resulting boiled dough balls were surprisingly edible (the dough was light and airy), but the pesto was made from dried basil, and on the whole the dish would have been very disappointing as a main course. The lasagna legumi, on the other hand, was fantastic, with layers of pasta and cheese thickly interspersed with a decadent cream and vegetable filling. Mushroom lovers especially will enjoy this dish.

Pasta and Pizza’s menu also features so-called “international khachapuri” (for GEL 6.80 a piece), which include French (spinach, onion, garlic, and Roquefort cheese), Turkish (minced lamb, paprika, pepperoni, garlic, onion, sheep cheese), and Dutch (pickled pork loin, onion, edamer cheese). Turkish dishes — including moussaka (GEL 12.80) — comprise a major section of the menu, and there is a respectable selection of unusual meat entrees (roasted chicken breast with spicy walnut sauce and fries) as well as vegan dishes (there are many vegetarian options throughout the menu). It’s easy to miss, but at the back of the menu fondues (cheese or chocolate) are available either as single (GEL 14-18) or double (GEL 25-35) servings.

Wine, beer (draught and bottled), spirits all available. There is usually an “open” village wine available in half liter and liter carafes — on the evening we visited, this was a honey-colored tsinandali with a moment of intense dryness on the tongue, and a mellow, creamy mouth-feel.

Our decadent dinner left us no room for dessert, unfortunately, but we will be back to try the “whipped wine foam’ and the Tiramisu. The waiters were prompt and attentive — and English-speaking — and we continued to enjoy the smells from the dishes wafting by to other tables even as we exhausted our appetites.

Menus are available in English.

Very decent pizza can also be had at Pizza and Pasta Fantastico. True to its name, this small pizzeria makes oven-fired pizza and pasta, as well as a handful of other entrees such as eggplant parmesan. The pizza here is a bit pricier than that at Pasta and Pizza, with small Pizzas for GEL 7-10, mediums for around 15-18, larges 18-22. Lots of possible toppings are available, including ham and pineapple. The small pies are quite substantial for one person, while a medium makes a good meal to share between two people. We tried one pizza with paper thin-slices of ham and layers of rich musky mushrooms, and one pizza with bell and pickled jalapeño peppers, olives, tomatoes. Both were excellent, with crisp and chewy crusts.

The eggplant parmesan is heavy on the marinara sauce and melted cheese, with thin slices of breaded baked eggplant swimming in there. Gnocchi with pesto was not a very generous serving, and the gnocchi were gummy and a little tough. The pesto was quite good, with a bright emerald color. (Perhaps pesto on another pasta would be better than on gnocchi.) At other tables plates with ravioli drenched in cream sauces seemed popular.

Lots of cocktails are available, and from the looks of it there is a serious espresso machine behind the counter. A narrow selection of Georgian wines cost around GEL 18 per bottle, no house wine is available. More extensive are the Italian and European wines can be ordered by the glass for around (GEL 7 per 200 ml). The restaurant is small, and fills up quickly. Menus are available in Italian, Georgian, English.

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Published in Georgia Today, 22 June 2007

Rustic-yet-Spiffy and Always up to the Task: Shemoikhede Genatsvale

5 Marjanishvili Street – Tel: 91 00 05
25 Leselidze Street – Tel: 43 96 46

Shemoikhede Genatsvale (“Drop In, Love”) has tasty, reasonably priced Georgian food in a refined yet un-stuffy setting. The restaurant has two Tbilisi locations, one on Leselidze Street in Old Tbilisi, and one on Marjanishvili Street on the left bank of the Mtkvari.

Shemoikhede Genatsvale, which is owned by the GMC Group, manages to both provide a pleasantly rustic-yet-spiffy environment featuring exposed brick walls, Pirosmani reproductions, murals of men at supra and a powerful ventilation system to diffuse the accumulation of indoor cigarette smoke.

Both restaurants have the same menu – printed in Georgian on a rough piece of paper meant to resemble a 1920s newspaper. The Marjanishvili location is larger, with high vaulted ceilings and lots of solid, elaborately carved wooden furniture. The atmosphere here does more to evoke ‘ye olde sakhinkle,’ while the Leselidze Street location is a bit more mainstream in its tastefully appointed decor. The only major difference in the quality of the food between the two locations is that the Marjanishvili location has consistently better mtsvadi than the Old Town incarnation—Marjanishvili’s mtsvadi is a toothsome platter of juicy, succulent, piping hot grilled meat, while Leselidze’s tend to be somewhat tough and dry.

Many khinkali aficionados frequent Shemoikhede Genatsvale, and after eating there it is easy to see why. While the restaurant offers only four types of khinkali (two kinds with meat – kalakuri (meat with chopped herbs) and khevsuruli (slightly spicier meat without chopped herbs) – as well as mushroom or potato varieties), there are few other establishments whose dumplings are as light and wolfable. The khinkali are formed from dough as thin and smooth as silk, and the meat is well seasoned and of even texture (no nubbly bits). For those inclined to abuse khinkali, the lightness of the dough makes it possible to bolt quite a few. (If, however, you have any leftover, ask to have them fried. This will buy you some time to digest, and the fried dumpling is delicious. If your Georgian isn’t up to the task, pointing at the remaining dumplings and saying “shemtsvari” will do the trick. If you really want to hurt yourself, request some sour cream (arajani) on the side – though probably not traditional, this goes very well with a fried khinkali.)

Shemoikhede Genatsvale’s menu is fairly wide-ranging and inexpensive. Chebureki – large fried pastries stuffed with cheese or meat – seem to be very popular with many of the younger people who dine here. Also extremely good is the chkmeruli—chicken fried in a garlic sauce. While a bit pricey – at GEL 19, it’s one of the restaurant’s more expensive entrees – it is extremely tasty (the chicken arrives – still sizzling – in a ceramic dish, and drenched in a rich buttery garlic sauce) and comes in a very generous shareable portion – more than enough for four people, if you are ordering other dishes as well. Also excellent are the lobio nigvsit (this is a cold bean salad with walnuts, herbs, and spices), and the kababi (one restaurant connoisseur swears that the Marjanishvili location has the best kababi in town).

Nakhtaktari and Kazbegi beer is usually on tap for around GEL 2 per glass, and several varieties of wine, vodka, and cha cha are available as well.

The wait staff is brisk and friendly. While a few waiters and waitresses speak English, the menu is in Georgian only.

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Published in Georgia Today, 8 Jun 07

Alanis Ludi: Ossetian Beer and Khatchapuri Bigger than Your Head

The Alanis Ludi Bar in Old Tbilisi serves an excellent house beer and decent, cheap food. It isn’t fine dining, but is a good spot to enjoy an unusual - and cheap - beer with an unusual - and cheap - khatchapuri under the beady glass glare of a taxidermied bird of prey.

As I was standing outside the entrance to Alanis Ludi, trying to decide whether “Alanian” stood for “Ossetian” (it did), a man tending the nearby parking lot assured me that the food inside was cheap and good.

“IN THERE IS IT OSSETIANS OR GEORGIAN FOOD?” I asked in rickshaw Georgian.

“A bit of both,” he replied.

Inside the bar, stuffed and mounted birds – and the occasional mammal - line the wood-paneled walls. Many birds are posed suggestively above the bar tables – we caroused under the glass glare of a hawk posed clutching a doomed pigeon in its claws.

A stuffed duck perches on the Efes cooler behind the bar, and a mountain goat with a modest rack surveys the room. Retro-looking fans are also stationed at each table – these presumably help move the air conditioning along. The bar has four dining areas for large parties; these are separated from the main eating area by saloon-style doors. The combination of effects gives the place a saloon-meets-hunting-lodge feel, which is further complicated by the inevitable flat-screen TV that partially eclipses the bar.

Most of the available food is standard Georgian restaurant/bar fare. We had (at our waiter’s suggestion) cucumber-tomato salad with walnut, eggplant with walnut, some spongy kababi and above-average mtsvadi. Our smattering of Georgian food was okay, but what sets this bar apart – and makes it worth a visit - is the house Ossetian beer and the Ossetian-style khatchapuri.

The beer at Alanis Ludi has a semi-opaque amber color and an almost fruity taste, like a Hefeweizen, and is welcome respite from the pallid Kazbegi more often on tap in Tbilisi, and far less pricey than the Germanesque microbrewery across the way. (However, you are less likely to find orange slices at the bar at Alanis Ludi than at Kaiser Brau– bring your own if you think you might want one). The Ossetian khatchapuri is thin and crispy, as big as a pizza, and filled with butter, cheese, and mashed potatoes, and is a good complement to the beer.

The bar is located on Gorgasali Square (at the very start of Gorgasali Street), a short jog away from the sulfur baths. If you are walking towards Abanotubani, the bar will be on your right (before the traffic light but after the Metechi Bridge), just after a spate of small grocery stores. A flight of stone steps leads up from the street, and large wooden panels frame the entrance.

The bar was lively on a Wednesday night; we had about a 10-minute wait for a table to open up. Bathrooms are downstairs; loo-users are expected to pay 20 tetri (honor system: pay your toilet toll to the red bucket at the top of the stairs).

There is no printed menu, and no English spoken – be prepared to make your way in Georgian, Russian or Ossetian.

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Published in Georgia Today, 1 Jun 07

Feel Like (Halal) Chicken Tonight?

Turkish-Iranian Restaurant 'Urfa Sofrasis'
76 Agmashenebeli Avenue
Tel: (995 32) 96 50 94

Urfa Sofrasis, the most recent addition to the Turkish culinary strip on Agmashenebeli Avenue, has pretty good food—and a formidable bar—in a comfortable setting.

In spite of its unique niche (Iranian and Turkish cuisine) Urfa Sofrasis makes no attempts to invoke—whether through low lighting, acres of oriental carpets, or an over-abundance of pillows—either Persia or Turkey. Rather, a two-story-high drop ceiling vaults above a sea of enormous dining tables, each of which is bracketed by long thickly-padded benches. (Somehow this combination gives the restaurant the feel of a furniture showroom.)

Rather then perusing a menu, you place your order at two glass display cases — one containing raw meat for Turkish and Iranian-style kebabs and other grillables, the other containing everything else (meze, etc.)—then take a seat and wait. While this approach allows you to eyeball your entree ahead of time—and also permits the Turkish-Iranian culinary novice to point and grunt in the absence of lexical familiarity with the dishes in question—it does not give one a good sense of each dish’s impact on your wallet. (Happily, this ends up not being too severe).

While the ‘meze-etc’ case’s contents were not as extensive as those of some of the Turkish restaurants further up Agmashenebeli Avenue, there was still a lot to choose from. There are several vegetarian options (including an inordinate amount of eggplant). Our party ordered yoghurt sauce, olive salad, hummus, fried eggplant in yogurt, meat-stuffed eggplant, and stewed green beans. From the meat case we ordered chicken and ground lamb kebabs. We also indulged in a couple of bottles of Turkish Efes beer, and a shot each of raki (anise liquor). All together, our tab came to about 15 GEL apiece.

On our visit the food was hit-or-miss. The green olive salad — comprised of sliced olives, chopped fresh tomatoes, slivers of lightly brined cucumber, and chives—was very good. The hummus hit the spot, as did the yogurt-mint sauce. Some dishes were less successful, though—the grilled eggplant in yogurt sauce was bit bitter for our taste, and the stuffed eggplant’s meat stuffing was kind of nubbly. A very few items were flat-out bad: the beans were very salty and swimming in oil, and the ground lamb kebabs were dry and immediately unpalatable—no one managed more than a small bite. We scored with the grilled chicken kebab, however, which was downright succulent, and more than made up for the odd mediocre item. The chicken meat was moist and tender on the inside, with a crisp exterior, and a grilled aroma and toothsome flavor throughout.

If you are a diner with uncomplicated cravings, Urfa Sofrasis is definitely a worthwhile stop for dinner. You may, however, wish to pass over many of the salads and meze and skip straight to the grilled chicken, which, along with some raki or a bottle of Efes, makes a satisfying simple summer dinner.

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Published in Georgia Today, 18 May 2007

A Chip Off the Old Bloc

Grand Cafe CCCP
28 Kiacheli Street. Tel: 877 57 66 67

At 8:30 on a Monday night, Grand Cafe CCCP (USSR) was full of young men and women. The ratio of drinks to dishes at their tables was weighted heavily towards the former. We would have done well to follow their lead—the menu at Grand Cafe CCCP is expensive, and the quality of the food is out-of-step with the prices. A sampling of mid-range dishes (GEL 6-18) got us a transatlantic flight-grade supper.

Grand Cafe CCCP offers a loosely Russian menu with many variations (since when were Potatoes “Idaho” a Soviet standby?). On our visit at least, the restaurant’s food was better on paper than on the plate. The Uzbechka (GEL 12) — chicken fillets with honey and plums served with rice — was disappointing. The meat was dry and mostly flavorless — with only a distantly sweet glaze &mdasgh; and the rice was very bland. The “Blue Medals“ beef (GEL 18) — a minor constellation of thin steak slices in a blue cheese sauce topped with scattered tater-tots — was rich and flavorful, but the portion was very small. The side and appetizer dishes had a better price-to-food ratio, though here the descriptions on the menu were somewhat misleading. (“Stuffed tomatoes” apparently means tomato slices topped with a shredded soft cheese-dill-and-mayo combo.). The pelmeni (meat dumplings – GEL 6.50) were tasty but very modestly apportioned. A blurb on info-tbilisi.com says that the “Brezhnev’s Favorite Salmon” (salmon with sour cream and caviar) and “Mushrooms Proletariat” are good, but I was hesitant to try them, given the mediocrity of the cheaper dishes and their cost (the fish dishes inch into the GEL 30’s).

Throughout the restaurant, objects from the Soviet era — stamps, posters, banners, statuettes, busts of Lenin - are installed on shelves and in glowing recesses in the wall. The cumulative effect is (thankfully) underwhelming. Grand Cafe CCCP’s aesthetic nod to the Soviet era is ameliorated by an international play list and the owner’s decidedly restrained application of kitsch. (If you, for some reason, long to immerse yourself in Soviet-era paraphernalia, the Dry Bridge market is a better bet). In many cases, the decor is less shrine and more send-up of Soviet sensibilities - one poster reads (in English): “Your power core is under attack! Red Leader says: Defend it, fuckface!”

Grand Cafe CCCP is a better destination for drinks than for dinner. Available alcohol includes a Glenmorangie old enough to enlist in the army (from GEL 10), a range of tequilas (GEL 6), flavored vodkas (from GEL 4), imported beers, local wines, and a long list of cocktails. With cafe-style seating in the front and a lounge-style area in the back, Grand Cafe CCCP is a comfortablec — if smoky — hang-out. The lounge’s black leather couches are deep and commodious, and a tent of thin fabric overhead casts pleasantly diffused light throughout the dining room. Diners seeking good Russian fare would be advised to eat elsewhere, and then retire here for the alcohol and old shkola ambiance.
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Published in Georgia Today, 11 May 2007

Au Sans Souci: Georgian Standards with a Twist

During a typical lunch hour at Au Sans Souci (also known as Ar Idardo), the air hums with the relaxed conversation and activity of people on dates, on business lunches, or sitting with their open laptop computers enjoying the free Wi-Fi along with a shot of espresso. Over one doorway there is an inscription: “Un Bon Repas Sans Vin, C’est Une Belle Femme Sans Tete” - ”a good meal without wine is a beautiful woman without a head.” There’s no excuse for a headless meal here. The wine list ranges from local Saperavis to French Bordeaux, though you can also enjoy a refreshing GEL 9.80 mojito which, with a generous portion of fresh mint leaves, also makes a nice spring dining companion.

The menu at Au Sans Souci features traditional Georgian dishes with a twist. (One of these twists is that portions are not very hearty: expect nouveau cuisine rather than supra-sized servings). Quality and attention to appearance and flavor are strong across the board – it’s hard to go wrong here.

Of Au Sans Souci’s smaller dishes, the pork on tkapli (GEL 6.80) is quite nice – cold slices of roast pork on tart slices of fruit leather – as is the leek hors d’oeuvre (GEL 3.80), which is much like the spinach-and-walnut phkali served at many Georgian restaurants, only with leek instead. The substitution is startling and delicious. Mushroom lovers should try the grilled mushrooms (wild mushrooms in lots of garlic) or the cream of mushroom soup (GEL 5.50). (Whatever you think of Cream of Mushroom soup in general, this fresh fragrant item is a far, far cry from Campbell’s). I’m not sure whether to recommend the meatball soup (or gupta – GEL 6.20), except for it’s novelty: it manages to be both rich and extremely mild and light. It consists of two baby sour plums and two meatballs in a clear golden broth that smells strongly of fresh butter. Likewise the wine pudding (GEL 2.10), while a bit granular, it is a dainty and unusual dessert. And whatever you usual beverage of choice is, be sure to try the “house lemonade.” (More of a limonati, really, it has a lemon-lime flavor with a hint of tonic, and is quite refreshing).

Though the food at Au Sans Souci is reliably very good, it’s the ambiance that make this place a real treasure. There isn’t a dull surface in the restaurant. You sit upon, and eat off of, beautifully painted furniture – the tables are adorned with playful drawings and lines of Georgian poetry and prose. The walls twinkle with colorful tile, Christmas lights, and posters from the past tours of café owner Rezo Gabriadze’s nearby marionette theater. Patrons also enjoy a view of Tbilisi that juxtaposes two extreme cultural touchstones: the 6th-century Anchiskhati Church a short hop-scotch game away from the Hanger Bar (whose motto “Our Balls Are Bigger Than Yours!” somewhat undercuts Anchiskhati’s austerity).

Au Sans Souci: 98 65 94, Shavteli 13, Tbilisi
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Georgia Today, 27 Apr 2007.

The Only Indian Restaurant in Tbilisi

Rumor and hearsay told of a magical, mobile Indian restaurant that, over the past decade, has flitted, Brigadoon-like, through such diverse locations as Sololaki, Vake, and Saburtalo. This transient establishment – which had a tendency to shut down and reopen without warning or explanation – was called the New Delhi.

Buzz around the New Delhi was promising. A gourmand friend in the Peace Corps reported that it was dressed down, but tasty and authentic, and pointed out its approximate location on my woefully inadequate purple plastic Tbilisi city map. People referred to it as “the” Indian restaurant, and as recently as the autumn of 2006, “the” Indian restaurant was spotted in Saburtalo.

I was saving my trek to Saburtalo for a rainy day. Unfortunately, my rainy day fell after the New Delhi had pulled up its roots once again. After hours of beating the pavement and ducking in and out of patently Georgian restaurants on Gamrekeli Street – where the New Delhi last opened its doors—I was forced to accept that I’d missed it. The New Delhi had moved on.

My quest for the New Delhi had made me a bit myopic about this week’s column. It had to be about Indian food. Had to. And so I headed to what I believe is now the only Indian restaurant in Tbilisi: Maharaja.

It was with slumped and defeated shoulders that I entered Maharaja. I despondently took in its muted Asiatic wood-and-fabric decor ordered a mango “lassy.”

The lassi was pert and refreshing, and promised a good consolation meal. I called for backup. When backup arrived, we checked out the menu, which to our surprise was only in English. This seemed a bad sign, but we went ahead and ordered vegetable samosas, “palak panel,” keema (ground mutton) curry, and chicken masala.

The vegetable samosas (GEL 3) were served with a side of ketchup – another bad sign—and a small dish of watery mint chutney. The samosas themselves were filled with a texturally adventuresome mix that seemed to include chickpeas, potatoes, raisins, walnuts, peas, walnuts and cilantro. They were certainly nourishing, but a bit on the heavy side. The “palak panel” (GEL 8), known elsewhere as palak paneer, featured plump cubes of soft white cheese swimming in emerald-green spinach sauce; this was a pretty dish with good mouth-feel, but it was a little bland. The chunky chicken masala had a decent kick of spices to it, but the chicken was tough – a far cry from the creamy, tender meat I was hoping for. The keema curry was quite a bit like a meat chili, but perhaps it was supposed to be that way.

Maharaja is a very pleasant and cozy restaurant. Though their dishes – at least the ones we tried – fell short of scrumptious, and the service was a little cold, the restaurant interior is sumptuous and intimate, with low lighting and rich textiles providing a nice dining environment. Main dishes (GEL 12-20) come in modest portions – definitely order a side of bread or plenty of rice to make this a substantial meal.

And if anyone knows where the New Delhi has gone – or if it is coming back – please spread the word. Email info@georgiatoday.ge with “New Delhi” in the subject line.

Indian Restaurant “Maharajah”
24 Akhvlediani (aka Perovskaya), Tbilisi
Tel: 99 97 99
Published in Georgia Today, 16 Mar 2007.

Sakhinklis Riqe: more than meats the eye

Update: 30 April 2007 This restaurant - as well as its neighbors - no longer exists, having been bulldozed as part of the Georgian government's nationalization project. Read more about it here: Rike Falls to the Bulldozer in Controversial New Privatization Flurry.

From the street, Sakhinklis Riqe looks like nothing so much as a storage shed for the much larger restaurant that stands beside it, but this unassuming little eatery serves what may be the best kababi in town.

Sakhinklis Riqe is located in Riqe Place, amidst a cluster of other restaurants on the left embankment of the Mtkvari River (between the Metekhi and Baratashvili bridges, but closer to the latter). Don’t be confused by the bright lights and comely exteriors of the big restaurants - look for the squat white structure with no windows sitting cheek-by-jowl beside the restaurant with red “Sameba” letters on its roof.

Inside, you’ll find a surprisingly spacious dining area. The air might be a bit hazy with cigarette smoke, but the warm wooden shine of the large tables and chairs - the owners are clearly privy to the bochka/beer barrel aesthetic – and the friendly demeanor of the wait staff make this a cozy place to dine.

Sakhinklis Riqe doesn’t have a printed menu, but it doesn’t need one - you can count their offerings on one hand. They serve kababi, khinkali, mtsvadi and kombosto mzhave - the house pickled cabbage.

Of all of the items on the menu, the best is unquestionably the kababi.

For the most part, kababi in Tbilisi tend to be pretty predictable - heavy, spiced sausages in flatbread - without a great deal of variation from restaurant to restaurant. But the kababi at Sakhinklis Riqe, like the restaurant itself, is more than “meats” the eye.

Served without fanfare in sheets of thin lavash flatbread, the kababi are of average length and girth. An exploratory poke with a fork reveals lightly sautéed onions and cilantro with a subtle red pepper paste sprinkled beneath the lavash. But it is only upon digging in that one properly appreciates this kababi’s best qualities: the meat is moist and yielding, almost melting in your mouth, and is subtly spiced with minced onion, garlic and herbs.

If you need to round out your meal, the khinkali and mtsvadi will do. The khinkali are pedestrian - just your basic buttoned meat dumpling - but tasty, and the grilled pork mtsvadi likewise is flavorful, if a little on the dry side.

The kombosto mzhave, while simple, is quite excellent. The fermented red cabbage is a pleasing bright fuchsia, and is pickled with red pepper, which lends the dish a little kick. Be sure to order the kombosto if you’re going all-out with the meat menu. The lactic acid in the fermented cabbage will give your digestive system a much-needed boost, and the dish is also a refreshing change of pace for your taste buds.

There’s Kazbegi beer on tap, and Gomi vodka and other standard beverages (Borjomi, Limonati, etc) are also available.

In our reverie of meat, beer, and pickled cabbage my party never learned how much each item cost, but we ordered some of everything, left barely able to walk, and spent about GEL 10 each.

Georgian and Russian spoken. No English, but none is needed, so long as you master the following vocabulary: Kababi, kombosto, ludi (beer).

Sakhinklis Riqe: Riqe Place, 747020
Published in Georgia Today, 16 Feb 07

No Starbucks in Tbilisi?

It’s true that, for better and for worse, there are no Starbucks in Tbilisi. Yet. But those who long for a coffee-and-pastry pick-me-up on the way to work, or for a comfortable cafe in which to mega-dose espresso and type their novel, need not despair. At Coffee and Donut and the Donut Stop your pre-caffeinated self will swear – if you only squint a little – that you’re at a South Caucasian Starbucks/Krispy Kreme joint venture.

A variety of fresh pastries are available at both donut depots for GEL 0.20, 1.10 and 1.20. Plump sugar-dusted jelly-filled confections and crispy chocolate-glazed cream-filled morsels jostle for primacy at the counter. It doesn’t really seem possible to be able to go wrong with any of these – deep-fried dough and sugar can’t help but nail a hole-in-one – but I will say that the chocolate-icing crust is tooth-achingly familiar, and the fruit-jelly-filled pastries are especially worth a try; the fruit filling has a tart kick to it that makes these a much more toothsome treat than their overwhelmingly saccharine state-side jelly-bellied counterparts.

The GEL 2.50-and-under coffee menu at both donut shops includes various members of the -ccino family (cappuccino, mochaccino) as well as regular coffees. Authentic Starbucks blends (Yukon Blend, Breakfast Blend, etc) of questionable provenance (which country have they been smuggled in from?) while not on-tap at the time of writing, are intermittently available as well.

The Donut Stop on Kekelidze Street is best suited for those who prefer their coffee and pastry to go. A few years ago, when trademark anarchy reigned supreme, patrons of the Donut Stop might have been lured into the shop by a Starbucks logo painted on the wall outside the café. No longer. Whether due to the need for a new splash of paint, or in provident response to the proliferation of trademark lawsuits against blatant knock-offs in countries where Starbucks is expanding (which now include India, Egypt, Brazil and Russia), the mermaid has been covered up, somewhat diminishing the Donut Stop’s genuine faux-Starbucks aspirations.

Which is not to say it doesn’t try to evoke some atmosphere. The shelves behind the counter boast a number of namdvili (if purely decorative) Starbucks coffee bags, while Starbucks stickers adorn the front counter. The walls of the café display a waist-high band of that distinct ‘Starbucks Green’ paint, and are festooned with green-painted pictures – some of which include the word “Starbucks” swirling around in the pigment. There are a handful of tables should you choose to eat-in, but the atmosphere is a little on the silent-and-deadly side.

On Abashidze Street, Donut and Coffee provides all the ambiance of a neighborhood Starbucks without the “wannabe” vibe of its first location (although its sign – a green circle around the Donut and Coffee logo – does distantly resemble the insignia of its Seattle-based spiritual mentor). Inside, the cafe is spacious and bright. Large windows look out onto the street. Tables for four are set discretely apart from one another, evoking the ambiance of a street café and a feeling of privacy. Patrons have the rare luxury of being able to choose between discrete smoking and non-smoking sections, and one room has a stack of periodicals for your perusal. Come early however if you want to enjoy peace, quiet and fresh air as the dining room fills up with cigarette smoking students in the afternoon.

If nursing a -ccino and nibbling a donut for hours isn’t satisfactory, Donut and Coffee also offers more substantial fare, including salads (GEL 4-8), pasta (GEL 7-9), sandwiches (GEL 3-5), and the strange and misguided “flat burger,” – a hole-less donut with odd fillings such as crab salad (GEL 3).

Donut and Coffee: 10/12 Abashidze Street, Tel: (32) 25 14 66
The Donut Stop: 16 Kekelidze Street, Tel: (32) 25 39 85
Menus in Georgian and English.

Published in Georgia Today, 9 Feb 2007.

Off the (B)eaten Path: Left Bank (possibly Armenian) Grilled Goodies

“Chilikas Bichis Dukani,” in the old Armenian neighborhood near the Isani metro station, is a good place to go if you are experiencing a hankering for grilled food in a low-key setting.

I was directed to the restaurant by a vegetarian friend who had waxed rhapsodic about their grilled mushrooms (sokos mtsvadi) and sulguni cheese khinkhali. “It’s a no-frills kind of place,” he added. “No lacy tablecloths or anything.”

Indeed, the restaurant really has no frills whatsoever, even an external indicator – like a sign – that it exists.

Finding the place, while uncomplicated, takes some elaborate directions in the absence of discernable area street signs. Chilikas Bichis Dukani (“Chilika’s sons’ café”) is located uphill, behind the Isani Metro station (on Ketevan Tsamebuli Avenue). If one is facing the metro station with Ketevan Tsamebuli Street to one’s back, walk up the street to the right of the metro station, towards the highway. At the end of a long block of money exchange windows, clothing stalls, and khatchapuri windows, take your first left. There is a gas station on the left, and across from that, on the right side of the street is a beige building with a long red Coca-Cola awning and two chimneys. A small sign reading “khinkhali, kababi, mtsvadi,” marks the entrance-point to Chilikas Bichis Dukani.

Once inside, there are nine tables, each seating four people or so. The décor is sparse and a little shabby – only a few token light bulbs work – but the tables and flatware are spotless. There are no printed menus, but a dry-erase board on the wall lists some of the more popular items. There is also a glass case where one can peruse the many kinds of grillable foodstuff – vegetables, meat, sausage – on long metal skewers.

Grilled things are definitely the way to go here. The meat mtsvadi, which comes in a variety of styles and shapes – including sausage with lemon on a stick – ranges from 6 to 10 lari (the latter are quite large), and is quite good. Also good are the grilled potatoes – sliced into medallions and roasted over coals – which are 2 lari per potato (about 5 medallions). Be sure to order at least one skewer of the sumptuous grilled mushrooms (sokos mtsvadi). They come 5 to a skewer, and cost 6 lari. A skewer of whole grilled badrijani, pepper and tomato costs 3 lari, and is pleasantly smoky, though wanting a little in the way of additional seasoning. The kababi, which come wrapped in a paper-thin lavash with onion and chopped chives, is average – which is to say, very tasty if you like that sort of thing.

Throughout the lunch hour, waitresses delivered platters of steaming khinkhali to the tables around us. Khinkhali are clearly another strong suit of Chilikas Bichis Dukani. Regular meat khinkhali are 50 tetri a piece; the sulguni khinkhali are 1 lari per. These latter are definitely worth trying; when the khinkhali are eaten hot, the melted sulguni cheese filling drips in gooey, buttery, mozzarella-like strands.

Given the location of the restaurant, and its reputation as an Armenian restaurant, we decided to try some kyufta. We had the option of ordering it fried or in some other fashion (we didn’t quite understand, speaking very limited Georgian and no Russian) and opted for the more mysterious process. This was perhaps a mistake. The kyufta arrived soft and gray – blanched, steamed or boiled –in a pool of melting butter. It was not bad – warm, buttery, and folded discretely in a paper-thin lavash – but was sufficiently mysterious as to be a little off-putting.

It’s not the cheapest dinner in town, but it’s a nice change of pace for a pretty low cost. Sharing food among three people on two occasions, my fellow foodies and I dropped about 10 GEL per person and left pleasantly full. The wait staff is very friendly. No English spoken, though, so be ready to make your way in Georgian or Russian.

Chilikas Bichis Dukani, adgilze mitanit. Tel: 899 53 74 36

Published 2 Feb 07 at Georgia Today