Tbilisi

Kakhelebi: Kakheti Calling

We were cutting grapes in a vineyard in eastern Georgia’s Kakheti region when two young men led a goat by a rope to a nearby tree and sliced its neck with a hefty hunting knife. Our lunch. They offered us a sliver of fresh raw liver with sardonic smiles, insisting it was the best part, but we passed and waited for the meat to be cut, skewered and roasted over the coals of tsalami, or vines. Served with bread, razor-sharp sheep cheese, whole tomatoes, cucumbers and rkatsateli wine, nothing could have been more Kakhetian. Since that harvest, we have been to scores of Kakhetian restaurants in Tbilisi, most of which were gratifying, but none had goat on their menus.

Tbilisi

Behind Bars: For Love of God and Chacha at Wine of Kardenakhi

It is 9 p.m. and we are packing our bags for a red-eye flight to Poland when I realize we have no chacha, Georgia’s otherworldly elixir of distilled fermented grape pulp. We never, ever travel without chacha, and there is no way we’re going to buy over-the-counter, factory-produced product – and not because it’s over-priced. Chacha is a potion brewed by the hands of masters over wood fires in hammer-battered stills sealed in a paste of dirt and ash. Without the human touch – the artistry – chacha is just a soulless, liver-grinding liquor. I make the call. Andria deals in wine, chacha and religion from a devilish little cellar in Tbilisi’s old neighborhood of Sololaki.

Tbilisi

Rhea's Squirrels Café Gallery: Cheese Pie, With a Mission

The kids were playing in the park, and Dad needed a cup of coffee for the caffeine boost to keep up with his daughter. Luckily there was a café nearby – where you would least expect one. The park is a modest little playground patch in a residential neighborhood across from the funicular that hauls people up and down Mtatsminda mountain to the amusement park and restaurant above the city. The café is on the ground floor of a Communist-era apartment block, just a couple dozen paces away. It was everything a little coffeehouse should be: warm, cozy, quiet and wheelchair accessible.

Tbilisi

Vampire-Thwarting Chkmeruli in Tbilisi

This steaming serving of ckmeruli (Georgian garlic chicken) is guaranteed to keep vampires away for a week. One may encounter a tasty (and protective) dish like this on our Tbilisi walk.

Tbilisi

Sasadilo Coca-Cola: The Real Thing

There used to be a state-owned publishing house in our neighborhood with a cafeteria that served a proletariat menu that included ostri (beef stew), cold slices of beef tongue and cutlets with buckwheat or mashed potatoes. It was a stolovaya, which is the Russian word for “canteen,” but a more accurate translation would be “human fueling station of protein, carbs and vodka.” It was gutted several years ago; its ghosts now haunt the dining room of a designer hotel.

Tbilisi

The Khinkali Chronicles, Part II: Zakhar Zakharich

In Tbilisi, we have mornings when we wake up wrinkled and dehydrated, and as we lie in bed knuckling the sleep from our eyes, we hear an all too familiar chorus beckoning us to “bite me, slurp me, gobble me down….” That is khinkali singing, and when you hear the melody, your day has been cast. You can forget about work and responsibilities. We used to fritter away our afternoons with a platter of khinkali at Pasanauri, but when it changed owners and attitude and our beloved waitress Irma packed her bags, it was clear an era had passed. A period of pretty good khinkali at pretty good restaurants followed until we asked local filmmaker and fellow gastromaniac Levan Kitia where he goes for khinkali.

Tbilisi

A Spiced-Up Affair at Tbilisi's Deserter's Bazaar

This well-stocked spice stand is found at Tbilisi's Deserter's Bazaar, the city's largest open-air market which forms a central part of our newly-launched walk.