Ask what makes Georgian food taste the way it does and the answer is not a technique. It is a short list of plants, most of them dried and ground at home, plus a nut that behaves like a dairy product. Almost everything else follows from those two facts.

Walnuts do the work that cream does elsewhere

Ground walnut is the structural ingredient of the Georgian kitchen. Pounded with garlic, salt, vinegar or pomegranate juice and a little water, it emulsifies into a sauce with body and richness and no dairy in it at all. That single technique produces bazhe, the walnut sauce poured over poultry, and satsivi, its cold winter relative, and it binds the pkhali spreads that open most meals.

It also explains something visitors notice without naming it. A large share of Georgian cooking is vegan by construction rather than by design, because the fat a French kitchen gets from butter comes here from a nut.

The herbs, used by the handful

Herbs in Georgia are a quantity, not a garnish. Coriander leaf, flat parsley, dill, tarragon, celery leaf and summer savory, which Georgians call kondari, go into dishes in volumes that would look like an error in a Nordic recipe, and a plate of them arrives whole on the table as well, to be torn and eaten between mouthfuls.

Coriander appears twice over, as leaf and as ground seed, and the seed matters more. It gives the warm, slightly citric base note under a great many stews and sauces.

Marigold, blue fenugreek and the blends they go into

Blue fenugreek, utskho suneli, is the seed of a plant related to common fenugreek but not the same thing, and the substitution people make in home kitchens abroad is why khmeli suneli bought outside Georgia often tastes wrong. It is greener, softer and less bitter than the fenugreek sold in most European shops, with a note somewhere between hay and celery.

Dried marigold petals, ground to a yellow powder, are sold as Imeretian saffron. They are not saffron and do not taste like it. What they give is colour and a faint bitterness that stops walnut sauces reading as sweet.

Khmeli suneli is the blend those two sit inside. There is no fixed formula. Most versions carry coriander seed, blue fenugreek, marigold, savory and bay, and some add dried chilli or mint. Households vary it, regions vary it more, and two jars from two villages will not match.

East and west: the divide down the Likhi range

The Likhi range splits Georgia in half, and the food either side of it differs enough that treating the cuisine as one thing loses the interesting detail.

East, in Kakheti and Kartli, the bread is wheat, baked on the wall of a clay oven. There is more meat and more grilling, the seasoning is drier and more restrained, and heat is largely absent. This is wine country, and the cooking is built to sit next to a glass of it.

West, in Imereti, Samegrelo, Guria and Adjara, maize does what wheat does in the east, in the form of mchadi cornbread and the polenta-like ghomi. Cheese is everywhere, sulguni in particular, and the chilli paste adjika belongs here rather than nationally. Western dishes carry more heat, more garlic and more walnut sauce.

Khachapuri follows the same map. Imeruli is the sealed round from Imereti. Adjaruli, the open boat with an egg and butter stirred into the hot cheese, comes from the Black Sea coast.

Sour rather than hot

The question visitors ask most is whether this cooking is spicy. Mostly it is not. The sharpness is acid, not capsaicin, and it comes from a wider range of sources than Nordic cooking uses.

Tkemali, made from sour wild plums, is the everyday sauce, served with grilled meat and potatoes the way ketchup is served elsewhere. Pomegranate seeds and juice cut through walnut. Dried barberries add a thin sourness to rice and stews. Matsoni, the fermented milk, turns up in soups such as chikhirtma and in sauces where cream would otherwise sit.

That is the real gap between this cooking and the Nordic table. Finnish food has plenty of sourness, but it arrives as a pickle or a lingonberry at the plate edge, a counterpoint applied at the end. Georgian acid is built into the sauce, so it shapes the dish rather than commenting on it.

Tasting the range in one meal

The fastest way to hear the difference between east and west is to order across both in one sitting. A cold plate, then a bread, then something from the grill, and the three will not taste like they came from the same country.

Winest, on Eteläinen Makasiinikatu, is a Georgian restaurant in Helsinki that serves that spread, with pkhali and walnut salad on the cold side, adjaruli khachapuri among the breads it bakes daily, and mtsvadi and qatmis mtsvadi on the hot side.

Key takeaways

• Ground walnut is the base of Georgian sauces and spreads, giving richness without dairy.
• Blue fenugreek and dried marigold are the two dried ingredients most people cannot identify, and both sit inside khmeli suneli.
• East of the Likhi range means wheat bread, grilled meat and restrained seasoning; west means maize, cheese, garlic and chilli.
• The cuisine is sour rather than hot, with acid built into sauces instead of added at the plate edge.

Frequently asked questions

Is Georgian food spicy?

Not as a rule. Most Georgian dishes are seasoned with herbs and acid rather than chilli. Heat is a western regional habit, carried mainly by the adjika paste from Samegrelo and the surrounding area, and it is usually offered on the side. If you want heat, ask for adjika rather than assuming it is in the dish.

What is khmeli suneli?

Khmeli suneli is a dried Georgian spice blend, not a single spice. Most versions contain coriander seed, blue fenugreek, dried marigold, summer savory and bay, with mint or chilli in some. There is no standard recipe, so blends differ by household and by region, and jars sold abroad often substitute common fenugreek.

Is Georgian cooking good for vegetarians?

Unusually so. A large part of the cold table is walnut, herb and vegetable based, including pkhali spreads, aubergine rolls, bean dishes and pickles, and much of it contains no dairy either. Bean-filled khinkali and cheese breads cover the hot side, which means a vegetarian can eat a full Georgian meal without special requests.