Khinkali is king in Georgia, but another dumpling of foreign origins has also woven its way into the childhood flashbacks reminiscent of Proust’s madeleines (the French writer’s analogy that morphed into a famous metaphor for nostalgia) of many a Georgian.
Pelmeni is presumably Russian in origin, but can be found across the Slavic world and Eastern Europe. These bite-sized dumplings are typically stuffed with a mixture of beef and pork, freeze well due to their tiny size, and rarely break when boiled, making them the quick meal of choice for busy moms with hungry kids. Hence the many childhood memories attached to this dish – one which remains a popular comfort food long into adulthood.
For those hit by a sudden craving for this tiny dumpling and seeking a more refined version than the typical frozen one, an inconspicuous looking restaurant tucked away in Tbilisi’s eastern market district of Isani claims to serve the best pelmeni in town, and has the reviews to back it.
Marked as “Dumplings N1” on Google Maps, Sapelmeni No1, which loosely translates to “Pelmeni House No. 1,” seems to have lived up to its boast as an institute or sorts for the Siberian version of the dish, wherein a meal’s portion of pelmenis are baked and served in a clay pot. The dumplings swim in a meat broth and a sauce of sour cream and the pot is topped with a sheet of freshly kneaded dough. Popped into the oven to cook, the dough rises into a crusty bread lid once done.
Isani is one of Tbilisi’s bustling suburban districts, with a transport depot, a Sunday plant market that takes over the park right outside the dome-like vestibule of the Isani metro station (which has remained unchanged except for the addition for blue glass since it was opened in 1971), a sprawling farmer’s market and one of the city’s biggest flea and antiques markets – strictly for the diehard lovers of gritty, grimy bazaars that offer plenty to those ready to delve in deep.
Despite offering some of the best prices in town, the Navtlugi farmer’s market and the flea market beside it are a bit daunting, both for their sheer size and variety on offer as well as for the brusque and brisk manner in which business is carried out. Tourists are still a rarity here, and the odd foreigner one might come across are long-term expats – usually antique buffs – or groups of Indian medical students drawn by cheaper rents. The district is also home to neighborhoods of local Armenians and Azerbaijanis who’ve lived here for generations, a reminder of Tbilisi’s storied cosmopolitan history.
Russian is also overheard a lot more in these parts than in the rest of Tbilisi, and that is similarly the case in Sapelmeni No1, which is located just a stone throw away from the Isani metro station and staffed by a team of local Russians, Armenians, and Georgians.
Hungry after a recent trip to the Navtlugi flea market in search of old laboratory bell jars, we decided to stop by to try out the famous pelmeni. The sparse and simple decor with tidy green checkered tablecloths reminded us of the efficiently run lunch canteens found across the former Soviet Union.
The simple menu is focused on different types of pelmeni as well as some classic Slavic soups and cutlets, with the addition of khachapuri and Georgian tomato-and-cucumber salad. We went with the house specialty – “pelmeni in a pot” – that comes in a standard size portion of 15 pelmenis in a pot or an extra-large portion with 30 pelmenis. We chose the standard size and weren’t disappointed. The dumplings were fresh, retaining their juicy, savory stuffing and the creamy sauce just right in texture without being too heavy – as can be the case in other places we’ve tried this Siberian specialty.
Easily polishing off the 15 pelmenis in the standard portion, we were left hankering for a bit more so we tried the next most attractive item on the menu – uralski pelmeni – or pelmeni from the Urals served with a generous dollop of butter, parsley and garlic. The Georgian touch was a heady addition of dried peppers that gave a nice spicy zing to the pelmeni, a refreshing addition to Slavic cuisine which usually scores zero on the Scoville scale.
Our waitress smiled wide when we complimented the spicy dressing of our second order – “Our pelmenis are the best in town,” she piqued. When we asked more about the restaurant’s story, she pointed us to a heavy-set bald man who was tucking into a soup near the entrance, introducing him as the owner. The gentleman seemed slightly wary when we approached him, but he broke into a hearty laugh when we let him know we were there to try what were apparently the best pelmeni in town. “The name was Simbirski [Siberian] Pelmeni when we started but we became the number one in town and changed the name,” he heartily proclaimed in Georgian laced with a thick Russian accent. He said his pelmeni are handmade daily and to cater to demand, he had to move the pelmeni workshop out of the restaurant to a nearby kitchen to leave space for the cooks to make other dishes.
Despite his effusiveness he declined to give us his name, saying, “You don’t need to know my name. My pelmeni speak for themselves.” But he does share that he came back to Georgia in 2008 after decades in Russia and opened the restaurant the same year. We ask if it was after the 2008 war with Russia when thousands of Georgians were expelled that he chose to return. He confirms it was around that time that he moved back to Georgia but excuses himself politely without offering further explanation and tells us he’s in a hurry and had just popped in for a quick lunch. Instructing the waitresses to take care of us, he exited with a benevolent smile.
Since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, tens and thousands of Russians have poured into Georgia, either as conscientious objectors of the war or seeking to escape the economic sanctions on Russia. Tbilisi has been flooded with young Russians, and many places that evoke a bit of the Russian or Soviet-style atmosphere, like this establishment, have been busier than ever, evident in the surge of Google reviews. But many Georgians also view recent Russian arrivals critically, as having failed to do enough to protest their government’s actions in Ukraine even when in exile. Some of the hostility directed at Russians also extends to places they frequent. This might explain a bit of the reluctance to talk exhibited by the owner, despite his friendliness.
We tucked back into our pelmeni and appreciated the bowl of hearty-looking borsch, served with the Ukrainian lard called salo, that passes our table. Too stuffed to sample any more food, we decided it was a good excuse to return on our next visit to the neighborhood. The waitresses debated whether to let us pay our bill after the owner’s instructions that it was on the house, but at a mere 25 lari for two dishes plus water, we insisted. The place remains strictly cash-only, as a hand-drawn sign at the counter states, but the prices and simple, hearty fare are a comforting change from the heady inflation that has hit most downtown eateries. As we headed out, a friendly cook on a break from the kitchen urged us to return to try the khachapuri, an invitation we’ll be sure to take him up on.
Published on September 06, 2024