Georgia on My Mind

From the Caucasus to the shore, it's time for some post-Soviet soup.

Ah, beach food. Corn on the cob, hot dogs, freshly shucked clams. Pizza, burgers, and ice cream. There's nothing better after bobbing in the ocean waves and baking in the sun for hours, is there? Along Hollywood's Broadwalk, beach food also means tacos al carbon, Turkish falafel, empanadas, and French-Canadian fare, reflecting the diversity of Broward's most democratic beach. Since early this year, it also means khachapuri, lobio, kharcho,and lyulya kebabwith tkemalisauce.

Hollywood Grillbills itself on its sign in English as an Armenian restaurant and in Russian more broadly as a restaurant of the Caucasus. Owners Zina and Hovick Grigoryan, hailing from Georgia and Armenia by way of Brighton Beach, bring a bit of Eastern Black Sea resort to South Florida.

At first glance, you might wonder what would bring such unusual fare to a beach café here, but it makes perfect sense to South Broward's and Northeast Dade's growing community of émigrés from in and around the former Soviet Union. You'll usually also find some of it on the menus at upscale "Russian" restaurants from Los Angeles and Brooklyn to Club Pearl in Hallandale Beach and a half-dozen others around Sunny Isles, where it provides the same sort of accessible exoticism Italian food adds to many "all-American" menus these days. But most relevantly, Armenian, Georgian, and Azeri food long ago became standard fare for cookouts, vacations, and wine- and garlic-fueled nights throughout that region.

Joe Rocco

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Hollywood Grill

905 N. Broadwalk
Hollywood, FL 33019

Category: Restaurant > European

Region: Hollywood

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Open daily noon to midnight. Call 954-272-2525.
905 N. Broadwalk, Hollywood

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An ideal introduction to what the food of the Caucasus is about comes in a bowl. One of several soups, the kharcho ($6) stands out, the best version I've had in years. Much more than a lamb-and-rice soup as most menus and cookbooks translate it, a good kharchois a mildly spicy soup redolent with walnuts, garlic, perhaps dried cherries, and most importantly a blend of herbs and spices called khmeli-suneli, which includes coriander, marjoram, fenugreek, mint, and dill, lending it a flavor like nothing else except perhaps other Armenian and Georgian food. Another lamb soup, piti, was enjoyable but less dramatically seasoned, built around larger, milder-tasting pieces of meat and chickpeas in place of the rice and bits of vegetable.

As you might expect from a beachside café specializing in the foods of a region that borders on Turkey and Iran, kebabs abound. Lamb kebab ($10) and kofta-like ground-meat lyulya kebabs ($8) were fine, particularly the lamb, reddened by a spice mixture, perhaps adzhika, a fenugreek-spiked pepper paste with origins in Georgia. They come accompanied by a choice of fries, lightly buttered rice, or our favorite, olive-oil-infused roasted potatoes dusted with garlic and herbs. The kebabs were best enjoyed wrapped in a strip of (alas, not locally made) lavash with some raw onion and a dab of the included satsabeli sauce, a distinctly Georgian/Armenian sour-plum-based condiment tasting of dill, garlic, and coriander.

An order of chicken satsivi, a cold, mild dip made of shreds of boiled chicken in a pale-yellow ground-walnut sauce, however, was more pedestrian. Something seemed missing, maybe the bit of peppery zing I've encountered before. Belhoor ($8), a kasha variant of cooked cracked wheat topped with sauteed mushrooms and a bit of broth, could have used a bit more flavor — and gravy — for my taste as an entrée, but as a side dish for the table, it would do just fine.

On another visit, we stumbled early. A handwritten sign in Russian taped to a window read "KHASH season has begun." I ordered a bowl, though the waitress did her best to try to talk me out of it. "Some people really like it..." Wrinkled nose. "Others... don't." An austere, virtually unseasoned bowl of khash —pork broth; fatty, cartilaginous bones; and chewy pork skin — landed with accompaniments. Following instructions, I stirred in a couple of tablespoons of freshly grated garlic, bits of toasted lavash, and some granulated white powder from a small bowl that the waitress said was salt, even though there was already a shaker on the table. I tasted a dab, and it was salty, but I hesitated. I went ahead and added some. Then more. Then some pepper. Then more of both, until finally it was sort of OK in an exotic, adventure-travel kind of way but not actually enjoyable. Definitely an acquired taste. The waitress did get a bit misty-eyed talking about how her mom would make it when she got sick. Among other things, it's a folk remedy, especially for broken bones. My companion and I gave it our best. We each had a few more spoonfuls before giving up, the broth slick with what we decided on the way home, guzzling bottled water, was actually MSG, a seasoning I'm fine with in moderation. Let's just say I'm glad I didn't finish off the bowl.

The rest of that meal had enough highs to make it more than worthwhile, though. The lobioappetizer, which also makes a fine side, was a scrumptious, extremely refreshing kidney-bean salad, strewn with crushed walnuts, minced garlic, parsley, dill, and an Armenian staple, pomegranate seeds, all lightly dressed in oil and vinegar. Sorry, Mom, but the fiancée liked it even more than your terrific three-bean salad. Their khachapuri(kha-cha-POO-ree),a Georgian word that translates as "cheese bread," is represented here as an airy, flaky filo-dough pie filled with firm, buttery cheese. It was good, but I'd been hoping for a stuffed-bread version with warmer melted cheese inside. Hinkali —meat dumplings — offered another geography lesson. The tennis-ball-sized pouches of thick dough with a massive ball of oniony meat filling looked and tasted like something from Northern China or a dim sum cart, and leftovers the next day were right at home with a splash of soy sauce, a reminder that the Silk Road carried more than just fabrics and spices.

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