- Shawn Basey
- Jun 23
- 7 min read
Updated: Jun 26

A lot can be said about the “Georgian table”.
It’s big. It’s bountiful. But after a few feasts it blends into monotony. I’ll be honest. And perhaps this is something of a hot take. But the sit down meals aren’t the best about Georgian food. Where Georgian food excels is its street food culture.
The street food here is the best in the world, let me tell you.
It’s hard to stay fit when every few minutes you pass some bakery with fresh pastries dripping with steaming, delicious cheese.
But it occurs to me that it’s not so easy to order. There are a lot of choices, and though sometimes you’ll get a selection in “English”, how do you really know what you want? Or even what all that stuff actually is?

Most people, upon coming here, or perhaps before coming here, will know the basic. You’ve got khatchapuri (the cheesy bread), adjaruli khatchapuri (the famous egg boat), and khinkali (hand-eaten dumplings). That’s what Georgians are always bragging about. But put down the dumplings, man, and head over to the local satskhobi (place of baking, i.e. bakery) or sakhatchapure (place of xatchapuri). Here’s what you’ve got cooking.
And a word you need to remember when you order: “Akhalia?” which means, “Is it fresh?” Because you want this jazz straight from the oven, not sitting there being fly food for hours on end. Stand in a line for the best, or at least time it around mealtime, because that’s when these places gear up. I find 11:00 or 12:00 are the best times at a window.
You could of course ask them to nuke it in a microwave, in which case you want to ask, "datskhele, tu sheidzleba". If they do that, make they don't put it in a plastic bag and then place it in the microwave. If you catch them doing that, shout out, "Uplasmo!"
The history
I remember walking through the streets of Pompeii. One of the incredible things to see were the remnants of streetside cafes and fast food shops. Places that would sell bread pies and soups for the lunch breaks and those hurrying down the streets on errands. It was a fascinating detail in ancient life, and one that still very much exists today.
Georgians are super proud of their cheese, ranging from the top-tier sulguni (brine cheese originally made from bison milk, though more often from cow now), to salty imeretian cheese to cottage cheese style dombalkhacho and in-between "khatchapuri cheese". Georgian cheese tradition is as ancient as probably their streetfood khatchapuri tradition: in excavations at Khami Didi Gora, they've found 8000 year old clay pots for cheese among other things.
So, it's rich, delicious, and old... but let's move on what to order.
The food
We begin with the standard.
Khatchapuri – this is a cheesy bread.
Lobiani – This is a bean bread.
There are many types of khatchapuri and lobiani, and I’ll hit them all below. But generally, each pastry has a type in both options. So, if you’re vegan, go with the lobiani, if not, go with either. Vegan options of standard dishes are especially important in Georgia, because many people enjoy fasting for months without actually giving up anything, just switching to bean or sugar-free versions (not sure why you have to give up both sugar AND meat AND cheese for a fast, but whatever, it's religion, doesn't have to make sense to everyone).
Khatchapuri and lobiani list
Keep in mind, with each of these you have to specify “khatchapuri” or “lobiani” when you order, though some only exist as khatchapuri.
Imeruli – this is what you find at most restaurant tables or in most homes. It’s the standard cheese or bean pie. Circular stuffed pizza crust, not much else to brag about here. But did you know there are some interesting variations that make for better street eating?

Penovani – “penovani” means layered, and the crust used here is like a non-sweet croissant crust. It’s flaky, it’s messy, it’s great street eating, especially when fresh. You can get a penovani khacthapuri or a penovani lobiani.

Nakhevari penovani – Sometimes the penovani can be too puffy, too cheesy, or too much. At these windows, you’ll want to keep an eye out for little square portions of khatchapuri, that clearly aren’t imeruli, but they’re not so puffy either. This is the “half-puffed” khatchapuri. Almost always a great snack. Mostly this option is only available for khatchapuri.

Lorit – With ham. Ratcha is a mountainous region famous for its smoked ham. When you have “ratchuli lobiani”, it’s served with either with a slice of ham, or bits of ham. The khachapuri equivalent though is “khatchapuri lorit”. This is personally my favorite of the street food options. You’ve got protein, you’ve got calcium, and it’s something somewhat familiar, like a grilled cheese sammich. Good stuff.
Guruli – This one is typically only served as khatchapuri. They take some hard-boiled egg, chop it up, and serve it in a moon-shaped cheese pie with a similar consistency to imeruli. Great for breakfast.
Khatchma – Sometimes you’ll find this khatchapuri-only option on the street. This is basically cheese lasagna. Layered noodles and cheese. Can be a bit messy to eat (not the flaky messy, but the oily, oozey messy that’d bad for street nosh). I generally avoid this for park life.
Ispanagit – This is a cheese and spinach option. Pretty good if you want to convince yourself you're eating healthy. It is, of course, not healthy.
Khabidzgina – This cheesy bread comes from Ossetia. It’s a cheese and mashed potato mix. One of my favorites, because like the spinach option, you can sort of pretend it’s healthy or has potassium at least.
Not your cheesy bread
Kubdari – Looks like an imeruli, but it’s stuffed with meat instead. Usually minced meat, sometimes chunks, and you never really know the source. Is it pork? Is it beef? Do we really care? Well, I guess you would if you’re Muslim, Jewish, or Hindu, so best to just ask. Better you learn then: “Ghori?” Pork. “Sakoneli?” Beef. Kubdari is originally from Svaneti, one of those “must-see” places in the mountains, full of snow-capped peaks, crazy stunt horse riders, and Mary Jane.
Kebabi – Something like meatloaf. It’s a modern trend now to serve “Georgian hamburgers” at sakhatchapures. And indeed, you might even have to call it a "hamburger" to get them to serve you one. These will often have lettuce, tomato, and kebabi. Sometimes cheese. Sometimes no tomato. Sometime cucumber. Who knows. Usually served cold, which is weird. You’ll have to time this one when it’s freshly made, I guess.
By the way, after finally trying one today, it has become one of my favorite meals. The meat was from a proper kebabi, a little bit spicy to tune in the taste buds. Good stuff.

Hot dogi – With the same kind of sausage as you'd find in an American hot dog, they're wrapped up in a flaky pastry and baked. Sometimes with sauce inside, sometimes on top, sometimes none at all. Who knows. Part of the deliciousness is in the surprise.
Pizza – A distant cousin to the Italian pizza, this flat pastry appears similar but is covered in mayonnaise. For a long time, many Georgians did not know the difference. My host family in Peace Corps dragged me downstairs amidst one bout of depression, hoping to cheer me up. "Shawn, we made you pizza!"
"Pizza does not have mayo on it!" I replied, though I did appreciate the effort. This was during what I call, "the year of beans", when the grandma only served me beans, and would beat me with a wooden spoon if I insisted on cooking something else.
"How do you know it doesn't have mayo?" the host mom asked. "Have you been to Italy?"
She had a solid point. I had not been to Italy then.
But now I have. And pizza does not, in fact, have mayo on it.

Though it seems like it would be messy, if you fold it in half, it's actually quite tidy and good. I say this now after having lived in Belium and become accustomed to mayonnaise. This is a fad that's only just waiting to explode in the hipster havens of Leige and Namur.
Ghvezeli – With the "gh" having a sound that's not really at all like a "French r", this long pastry comes stuffed with a variety of things. You can get kartopili (potato), ghortsi (pork), soko (mushroom), ispinagi (spinach), or lobiani (bean).
Sometimes you'll get an English translation that calls this a "pie". Meat pie, bean pie, etc. It's not a pie. It's just a long, stuffed, baked thingy. Don't expect any sweet sensations here.
Tone (tonay) / Shoti
Tone is a big, upside-down clay oven. The fire is in the middle, the clay vessel goes around and over it with a hole in the top. They slap bready goodness on the walls and let it bake. When it’s done, they scoop it out with a large wooden bread-scoop thing.
Before, they only made standard bread, “shotis puri”, out of these things. And frankly put, outside of stuffed breads, Georgian bread is fairly crap. But when baked in a tone, it’s absolutely delicious, especially when fresh. This is really the only way to eat bread in Georgia.

A few years back, they started serving “tonis lobiani”, that is, stuffed bean bread cooked in a tone. Nowadays, many tones will offer a full catalogue of stuffed breads, like “tonis khatchapuri”, “tonis khabidzgina” and even “tonis kubdari” (the last two are perhaps my favorite; the kubdari has this nice meat sauce that gets soaked up in the tonis puri that’s just fantastic).
Picnic time!
So, if you’re in Tbilisi and looking forward to trying some of the cheese bread, consider a picnic instead of an overpriced restaurant. Just go by the satskhobi, order a variety of pastries, walk down to the park and enjoy the true taste of Georgia!