There isn’t a soul this obscenely cheesy dish wouldn’t soothe. Here’s where to find it

I lit a candle the night Gray and Gray Bread and Wine passed. Part Georgian restaurant, part Melbourne wine bar, it was a fearlessly delicious and pioneering place to eat. It fed my curiosity for a country I now love. But when it drew the curtains for the final time, Victoria’s Georgian restaurant count took a critical hit.

Tbilisi has since filled that void; it’s Melbourne’s new home of Georgian food.

That means khachapuri, Georgia’s obscenely cheesy national dish, is back in a big way, restored to hot, gooey glory on a busy street in Bentleigh East.

Blinding overheads and chandeliers beckon from the street, illuminating a small, tiled room filled most nights. Aching folk tunes, another Georgian strong suit, set the mood, and an altar of walnuts and pomegranates hints at the Caucasian timbre of the feast to come.

You only need a glance at the atlas to triangulate Georgia’s culinary appeal. Türkiye to the south-west, Armenia to the south, Azerbaijan to the south-east and Iran just beyond, its triumph is a stable yet complex profile of meat, cheese, nuts, herbs and tart fruits; indulgent but balanced, daring yet soothing.

The country is one of the world’s great cultural melting pots, and it’s also the birthplace of wine, invented there, they say, 8000 years ago. Tbilisi will honour that ingenuity with an all-Georgian wine list on the other side of a frustrating liquor licence delay.

Those familiar with Georgia’s culinary canon will find it largely in good health here. Pink and green spheres called pkhali, a traditional vegetable dish, see walnuts, garlic and secret-weapon spice blend featuring marigold and blue fenugreek bludgeoned to paste, mixed with chopped beetroot or spinach, and compressed into cheery snacks.

Kharcho, a tomato-rich beef stew, is vibrant with coriander.

Like supersized xiao long bao equipped with a handle, khinkali are filled with juicy ground lamb worked with onion and plenty of coriander, plus a hot slurp of comforting soup. (Pro tip: don’t eat the handle.)

The showstopper, though, is the khachapuri. There are many varieties in Georgia; two are served here: megruli khachapuri, a circular, cheese-topped number; and the more recognisable adjaruli khachapuri. Order the latter.

A golden rhombus of hot bread – steamy and feathery on the inside, crisp and shiny on the outside – is stretched a foot wide. In the centre, a molten heap of top-secret cheeses (likely sulguni and imeruli), a knob of butter and an egg yolk. Your task is to bind the yellow components together in sumptuous matrimony before chipping away at it all with the bread it’s bedded in. There isn’t a soul this dish wouldn’t soothe.

Is the service choppy? Yes – patience is a virtue here. Is the chakapuli stew heavily overseasoned? Sure, but it’s loaded with lamb and herbs: a major comfort at a reasonable price.

Come the liquor licence, I see many a supra, Georgia’s legendary feasts, kicking off here. In the meantime, I’ll be returning regularly for this sublime khachapuri. Melbourne is a tastier place for it.

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine.

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.