The table
never lies
სუფრა — in Georgia, you don't just dine, you set the supra: the table fills dish after dish until the cloth disappears, qvevri wine passes from hand to hand, and no one leaves before the story ends. That is the table we set in Montpellier, place de Strasbourg.
Until the cloth
disappears
Eggplant rolled with walnuts, warm bread, jugs of wine — the table fills dish after dish. The tamada, master of toasts, raises his glass: to the land, to the elders, to the guests. Between toasts, the dishes keep arriving.
At the supra, no one eats alone — and no one leaves before the story ends.
Two dishes, two rules
Khinkali — Nineteen Pleats
Nineteen pleats, sometimes more, pinched shut by hand at the top of every khinkali. You grip it by the knot, turn it over, bite a corner — first the scalding broth, then the meat. The knot stays on the plate, like proof.
Never a fork. That's the rule in Tbilisi, and it's ours.
Khachapuri Adjaruli — The Boat
A boat of golden bread, a molten cheese heart, an egg yolk set like a sun, a knob of butter. You stir it with a fork, tear the crust, and dip.
Adjara invented the dish; no one has done better since.
Three icons of the house
What the tavern serves
Crushed walnuts, herbs, open flame, hand-folded dough — the cuisine of Georgia, served at the center of the table.
To Begin
cold, walnuts, pomegranateGrilled eggplant rolled around walnuts and spices.
Tomatoes, cucumbers, walnuts and herbs — summer cut by hand.
Chicken in walnut cream — cold, dense, deep.
Red beans with walnuts — dark and stubborn, like a good toast.
Fermented bladdernut blossoms, onion, oil — the tang that wakes you up.
Khinkali
five pieces, hand-pleated
The broth first, scalding — then the meat.
Steam, black pepper, dough that folds without tearing.
The cheese stretches from the very first bite.
Slow-cooked — they take a little longer to reach the table.
Khachapuri
the bread that carries the cheeseThe round of Imereti — warm bread, a sealed heart of cheese.
The boat, the sun-yolk, the knob of butter — you stir, you dip.
Cheese on top as well as inside — for the truly hungry.
Warm bread filled with beans — the other heart, darker.
Slow-Simmered & Fire-Grilled
served home-style, at the center of the table
Vine leaves rolled tight — meat, rice, garlic sauce.
Chicken slow-simmered with tomatoes, herbs and spices.
Chicken in garlic cream — the pan arrives still sizzling.
Beef roasted home-style — potatoes, vegetables, straight from the oven.
Beef skewer straight off the fire — salad, house sauce.
Mushrooms roasted home-style — potatoes, vegetables.
Sweets
no one gets up right away
Honey cake built in thin layers — tea follows close behind.
Rolled — red berries, honey and walnuts, or chocolate and banana.
The full menu is served at the table — soups, salads, grilled specialties, house sauces.
Reserve a table
8,000 Years of Wine
ღვინო
Georgian wine is born underground, in great clay jars buried to the neck — the qvevri. Grapes, skins, stems: everything ferments together, slowly, in the dark. The method is eight thousand years old; UNESCO protects it. In the glass: amber whites that smell of dried apricot and walnut, Saperavi reds as deep as a Kakhetian night.
Georgia, Painted
Our dishes and wines are painted the way Tbilisi's taverns once painted their signs — dark backgrounds, warm light, golden birds.
A Georgian table
on place de Strasbourg
Tiflis carries the old name of Tbilisi. In our dining room in Montpellier, Georgian cuisine is told the way it's lived back home: khinkali shaped by hand, khachapuri pulled hot from the oven, sauces of walnut and herbs.
In the Georgian way, the table is shared — it's the supra, the feast where dishes keep coming and wine accompanies the toasts. Come in numbers: the table never lies.
სუფრა
You Are Expected
Address
2 place de Strasbourg
34000 Montpellier
Hours
Tuesday – Sunday
Closed Mondays