I've eaten in some very good restaurants over the years. I've sat in dining rooms where every plate arrived with a detailed explanation involving local ingredients, ancient techniques and a chef who apparently discovered culinary enlightenment while foraging in a forest. I've paid for tasting menus that required the sort of financial commitment usually associated with minor home improvements.

Many of those meals were excellent but to

Yet one of the best dining experiences I've ever had involved sitting at a kitchen table in rural Georgia while a grandmother repeatedly ignored my increasingly desperate attempts to stop eating. The meal lasted several hours, involved enough food to feed a wedding and concluded with me questioning whether I'd accidentally been adopted.

It remains one of my favourite meals anywhere in the world.

The Problem With Fancy Restaurants

This isn't an attack on Michelin-starred restaurants. I enjoy them on occasion. There's something impressive about chefs transforming simple ingredients into tiny works of art that arrive looking far too attractive to eat. The trouble is that many high-end restaurants are trying very hard to impress you.

Georgian grandmothers don't seem remotely interested in impressing anybody.

Their objective is much simpler. They want to feed you, make sure you're comfortable and send you home wondering whether you've ever truly appreciated food before. The fact that this often happens while consuming enough calories to sustain a small expedition is merely part of the process.

The difference is subtle but important. One experience feels curated. The other feels genuine.

My First Georgian Grandma Encounter

The first time I was invited into a Georgian home for dinner, I made the mistake of eating lunch.

In hindsight, this was a rookie error.

I'd assumed dinner would involve a few traditional dishes, some local wine and perhaps an hour or two of conversation. What actually happened was closer to a small-scale culinary festival. The table began filling long before anyone sat down and continued filling throughout the evening as though there were secret kitchens operating somewhere beneath the property.

Khachapuri appeared first, followed by khinkali, grilled meats, salads, vegetables, breads and dishes I couldn't identify but was more than happy to investigate. Every time I thought the meal had reached its natural conclusion, another plate materialised.

At one point I became convinced Georgia had solved food-based perpetual motion.

Then The Wine Arrives

As if the food wasn't enough, Georgia also happens to be one of the oldest wine-producing countries on Earth. This means every meal arrives with local wines and a cultural expectation that glasses should never remain empty for long.

The traditional Georgian feast, known as a supra, is one of the great dining experiences of the world. A toastmaster guides the evening, stories are shared, glasses are raised and conversations flow as freely as the wine. What begins as dinner quietly evolves into an event.

Hours pass remarkably quickly in these situations.

I've arrived at Georgian dinners while the sun was still up and left wondering where the evening had disappeared. Time seems to operate differently once enough food and wine are involved.

Scientists should probably investigate this.

Why The Food Tastes Different

Part of the magic is the cooking itself.

Many Georgian grandmothers aren't working from written recipes. They're cooking from memory, experience and traditions passed down through generations. Measurements are often approximate, timings are instinctive and techniques have been refined through decades rather than culinary school.

The result is food that feels deeply connected to the place where you're eating it.

Nothing has been designed for Instagram. Nobody is worrying about whether a dish photographs well. The focus is entirely on flavour, hospitality and making sure guests leave happy.

And preferably unable to fasten their trousers.

This Is Why We Created The Grandma Experiences

After enough evenings spent eating in Georgian homes, it became obvious that visitors needed to experience this side of the country.

The wineries are fantastic and the scenery is spectacular, but some of the most memorable moments happen around kitchen tables. That's one reason we're so excited about experiences like our Georgian Grandma suppers and home-hosted feasts. They allow visitors to experience something that can't easily be recreated in a restaurant.

You're not just tasting food.

You're stepping into somebody's life for an evening.

That's a very different experience from reading a menu.

The Real Secret Ingredient

The thing I remember most isn't actually the food.

It's the people.

Years later, I can still remember conversations, stories and moments of laughter around those tables. I remember being welcomed by complete strangers who somehow managed to make me feel like a long-lost relative. I remember glasses being topped up before they were empty and plates being replenished before they were finished.

Hospitality on this scale is surprisingly powerful.

It transforms dinner into something much bigger.

So, Are Georgian Grandmas Better Than Michelin Stars?

In terms of culinary technique, presentation and consistency, Michelin inspectors may have a few arguments.

In terms of warmth, generosity and creating unforgettable memories, I know where I'm putting my money.

Georgia has excellent restaurants and some genuinely talented chefs. Yet if somebody asked me where to find the most memorable meal in the country, I'd point them towards a grandmother's dining table without hesitation.

Not because restaurants aren't wonderful.

Because some experiences are about more than food.

They're about people, stories, culture and the feeling that, for one evening at least, you've been welcomed into a family. And if that family insists on feeding you enough food for three adults, that's a sacrifice I'm prepared to make.

Repeatedly.