Best Georgian food Russia can offer

By Mary Harrah

Having never been to a Georgian eatery before, I was looking forward to dining in the Tbilisi Cafe with great gastric anticipation, as the Georgian kitchen is reputed to be one of the most delicious in the world, and the Tbilisi is by repute a good place to experience it.

Well, make that a Russian-Georgian meal.

In spite of the Georgian emphasis, there is a definite Russian influence as well. And yet I was far from disappointed by this revamped Soviet-era cafe, which offers standard but tasty Georgian fare at incredibly low prices, in a pleasantly relaxed environment.

Granted, the place doesn't have the glitter and glamor of some other city eateries, and although the menu is in Russian, English and Finnish, you'll need to take a Russian-speaking friend with you to help order if you don't know the language (or use the point-and-nod method).

But the cafe is definitely for those seeking to gain the full Russian experience at Russian prices.

My companion and I seated ourselves in what can only be called the neo-Soviet dining room.

With the walls painted a salmon color and hung with plants, sculpted metal objects and an occasional painting, plus the marble floor found in every Soviet-era cafe, it looks like one place, at least, where perestroika worked without foreign help.

The tables are placed ideally, some in the brightly lit open space in the center of the dining room, some more privately and intimately tucked away in dimly lit corners.

The service and music are far from anything you'd find in a Soviet-era cafe, however. As soon as we had chosen our table we were given menus, and made our choices serenaded by Sting.

The waitress politely and unobtrusively checked on us every couple of minutes until we had finally made up our minds as to what to order, and appeared (seemingly) immediately with our appetizers.

We decided to order three different starters: pickled cabbage (6,000 roubles), a "khrestiansky" (peasant) salad (10,000), and a delicious Satsivi (chicken salad) -- chicken in walnut sauce, delicately flavored with garlic.

The cabbage was also delicious, spicy enough to give the dish bite but mild enough to avoid producing cold symptoms in the eater.

The khrestiansky salad turned out to be a very generous serving of tomatoes, cucumbers and onions heaped on a plate in a regular oil and vinegar dressing; usual fare, but tasty all the same.

We then decided to move on to the soup, a poor move on all counts.

My companion's kharcho soup (onions and rice) at 8,000 roubles was a soup one might find in any cafe here, with the addition of a few unidentifiable spices.

My khashlana (beef soup), also at 8,000, turned out to be a watery beef broth with bits of beef huddled in a pile at the bottom of the bowl, and topped with chopped onions, when I had visions of a thick, hearty, meaty soup dancing through my head.

We accompanied our appetizers with a serving of lavash -- white bread, similar to a French baguette, but a bit doughier -- which would have been delicious, had it been served hot rather than warm with cold patches.

Not daunted by these disappointments, we moved on to our main courses. My companion, a great fan of roasted meat, went for the shashlik (similar to a shishkebab) at 28,000 roubles, served in style with brusniki (small red slightly sour berries), cabbage, and sauce on the side.

I originally chose an interesting sounding khinkali -- described on the menu as a "sort of meat dumplinge" -- which, unfortunately, only sounded interesting.

It turned out to be ground meat inside a dough casing, rather like ravioli, and was truly boring to eat. I should have chosen the shashlik as well; the perfectly cooked meat makes it worth it to visit this cafe simply in order to sample this traditional Georgian specialty.

A limited yet varied selection of alcoholic drinks is available, including Georgian wine, six types of vodka, champagne, beer, soda and juice, ranging from 7,000-20,000 roubles.

As Georgia and the Caucasus region is known for its wines, we decided to try the Mukuzami, a slightly sweetish red wine, which my companion said went beautifully with the shashlik.

We finished off the meal with rose hip tea (3,000) and "bisquit" (5,000), a finger of dense almond-flavored pastry which went so well with the fruity, almost woody flavor of the tea that I ordered a second serving of each.

Skip the soup, but the rest of the meal and atmosphere of this cafe are well worth taking advantage of.


See Dining Guide


© 1996 St Petersburg Press