A lot of foreign encounters with the Khachapuri Georgian Cuisine Center, sometimes venerable bread boats cracked with an egg. Behind it is not Khinkali, it’s the same type of soup soup. (Eat anything with anything, but your hands is not embarrassing.
It looks like today’s favorite Daphna caféA new place in the middle of the city. Leather Aprons Servers offer me plates of this national deck. Beef Khinkali is a bathroom and parsley herbaceous, potato and cheese version like sweet and salty dessert, especially with a heavy dollar of butter sauce. Khinali can be eaten in several ways, but I like to turn his doughy cone and throwing black pepper on the bottom. (This is certainly a sensing snack.
I wet in Khinkali, I feel the need for a shvitz. From Istanbul to FrissaiThis region is known for high quality swimmingery. I will start Abanotubani, or bathing sources such as the hot sources of the underground sulfur, where I kept the hot sources of the underground sulfur, with such visitors such as Visitors Alexandre Dumas and Alexander Pushkin. I choose the Persian architecture of Orbelian bath and the roof. Before you know, I am wetting mlaariked in a private bath, the smell of the surrounding sulfur. A great man in Georgia comes in to bathe me. After friendly watering, the skin begins to cleanse the skin that seems a thick sponge that is lost inside a giant soap. Removes a part of the breast, but bleeding will eventually stop, and I feel cleaner than ever.
I have been speaking English with the latest relationship with Georgian Russia, but it seems that the assistant bath smells the Soviet waste and ask Russians.
“Leningrad”, I say.
“Which neighborhood?”
“Moskovskiy prospekt.”
“My brother lives there!”
It is difficult to escape from Georgian politics and hospitality policy, which was the goal of Russian and Persian attack for centuries, as well as being the birthplace of Joseph Stalin. I’m sitting in one of the most beautiful tbilisian courtyards if the world is not: old Writers Georgia HouseNow Café Londera, the keyboard restaurant as well. I’m eating with Giorgi Lomsadze, a local journalist and some of his friends. MTSVane is dry white with ice ships and calf tartars with truffles. The ghosts of the past are never very far from Tbilisi, even in a famous summer evening, the restaurant cats to spend the bushes and a lone palm. “Beriak” – Stalinen Henchmen – “Torture had a dungeon on the other side of this wall,” Giorgi tells me. “He put that rumor, to hear the writers scream others.” This is often the rhythm of a Georgian afternoon: friendship, pinching glasses and nearby horror.
As the days pass, my belt spreads with the help of new friends. I eat all the garlic and walnut in city restaurants with cold summer fat. It includes Georgian methods of non-Georgian, skin and stems.
