When we arrived in Tbilisi in 2001, there was one café/restaurant that was a beacon to those seeking an alternative to the traditional Georgian dining experience of stark rooms and banquet tables or greasy spoons with clunky tables and little stools. It was a funky little crooked house of pure originality that served the regular dishes, but with a personal homey touch that suited the place perfectly.
Although it felt like a world apart, the art installation cafe was Georgian to the bone, being the creation of Rezo Gabriadze, the renowned artist, writer, sculptor and film and stage director.
Next to the cafe is Gabriadze’s famed marionette theater, whose phenomenal productions, “Battle of Stalingrad,” “The Autumn of My Spring,” “Ramona” and “Diamond of Marshal de Fantè,” have been performed around the world to great acclaim.
The story is that Gabriadze opened the cafe in 1988 not so much with eating in mind but so “one single coffee bean could be roasted all day long and fill the theater with its aroma.” Named “Ne Goryui” (Don’t Grieve) after the 1969 Giorgi Daneliya film for which Gabriadze wrote the screenplay, it was also known by its French equivalent, “Sans Souci,” and, of course, its Georgian counterpart, “Ar Daidardo.” Whatever the name, it was one of our favorite restaurants in Georgia.
One day in 2009, we walked past Ne Goryui and found the quirky house we had adored empty and under renovation along with the rest of the street. We had no idea whether the cafe, a victim of Tbilisi gentrification, would be resurrected or not. In its absence, other “art cafes” and inspiring restaurants had opened, so when it did reappear it was hard to get excited at first, especially since the rickety kookiness that had given it all that soul was replaced by straight lines and conformity. But once we dropped our pretensions, we were able to enjoy the place for what it has become – an urbane version of its original self, now known simply as Gabriadze Cafe.
Gabriadze’s art is still all over the place, including a new wacky clock tower outside, and although many of the hand-painted tables have been stained over, we are happy to see some things have survived, like Gabriadze’s handmade curtains and huge ceramic relief. The place may not be as beguiling as it was but it is cozy, warm and more sophisticated. This savoir faire is reflected in a menu that boasts the boldness of traditional Georgian fare but is prepared with an uncommon subtleness that focuses on flavors rather than vigor.
Shkmeruli is typically a deliciously audacious dish of chicken baked in a milky sauce piled with enough garlic to thwart a flock of vampires for a week. Gabriadze, however, roasts the chicken on its own in a ketsi, a shallow ceramic pan, and adds the garlicky sauce afterwards, at the table. The impact is more subdued, almost Dracula-friendly. They also serve chicken in a ketsi that is smothered in a thick, sweetly tangy blackberry sauce that screams “you’ll never finish me!” but balances well with whole peeled potatoes roasted with garlic. We sucked the bones clean.
Cutlets are perhaps the least remarkable dish in Georgia. Ground pork, beef and breadcrumbs fried to hockey puck consistency and served with mashed potatoes or boiled buckwheat, these are what you wolf down at the 20-minute cross-county bus stops to keep your stomach quiet. Gabriadze’s chicken cutlet, however, defies stereotypes and is refreshingly light and full of layers of character. The ground chicken is infused with a robust mix of fresh coriander, garlic and spices, fried to perfection and served on a flan of ghomi (Georgian polenta) and a layer of bazhe, Georgia’s famed ground walnut sauce.
Gabriadze’s is a great place to dine, but let’s not forget that it is still a café at heart. Some menu items have changed, others like khachapuri just taste different than we remember because they are made with different hands. But one recipe that has maintained its integrity over the years is the legendary Gabriadze apple cake served with vanilla ice cream. Grab a window seat and dig into that with a cup of coffee. Ne Goryui, indeed.
August 8, 2022 Damas
At the end of Rua da Voz do Operário, the main road that leads up to the hilltop of the […] Posted in Lisbon
February 8, 2022 Almeja
Thirty-year-old João Cura and his wife, 29-year-old Sofia Gomes, may be young but they […] Posted in Porto
July 5, 2021 Salobie Bia
This story starts with a hamburger, a juicy, perfectly grilled patty between a pair of […] Posted in Tbilisi
Published on November 29, 2016
Related stories
August 8, 2022
LisbonAt the end of Rua da Voz do Operário, the main road that leads up to the hilltop of the previously sleepy Graça neighborhood, is a new, hip Lisbon kitchen that is reflecting the city’s growing hunger for great food and a good time. Damas, as the name indicates, is run by two women who…
February 8, 2022
PortoThirty-year-old João Cura and his wife, 29-year-old Sofia Gomes, may be young but they have long had a wish to open their own restaurant. Yet it was never totally clear where or when they would fulfill this dream: both are originally from Coimbra, a city in central Portugal, and worked for years in Barcelona. The…
July 5, 2021
TbilisiThis story starts with a hamburger, a juicy, perfectly grilled patty between a pair of fresh, no-frill homemade buns and the standard trimmings. As burgers become part of the culinary landscape in Tbilisi, we find that many cooks have a tendency to get too slick with a dish that loathes pretension. But this place, Burger…
