Georgian Drinks: From Borjomi to Chacha — The Complete Guide

Everyone knows Georgia is a wine country. Eight thousand years of winemaking, qvevri clay vessels, amber wines — the whole bit. But wine is only one chapter of a much longer story. Walk into any Georgian home, restaurant, or roadside café, and you'll encounter a drink culture that goes far deeper than fermented grapes: volcanic mineral waters that taste like the earth itself, neon-green tarragon soda invented by a 19th-century pharmacist, fruit compotes simmered from whatever's in season, and chacha — the infamous grape spirit that rural families distill in their backyards every autumn.

Georgian drinks tell you as much about the country as the food does. Borjomi isn't just sparkling water — it's a national symbol that survived Soviet industrialization and post-independence chaos. Lagidze water isn't just flavored soda — it's a living piece of 1880s Kutaisi that Khrushchev reportedly had shipped to Moscow. And chacha isn't just strong alcohol — it's the final act of the grape harvest, the part where nothing goes to waste.

This guide covers everything Georgians drink, from the volcanic springs to the distillery. Whether you're planning a trip, stocking a Georgian dinner party, or just curious about what fills those glasses at a supra, here's the full picture.

Mineral Water: Georgia's Other National Treasure

Georgia sits on one of the most geologically active zones in the Caucasus, and the result is hundreds of natural mineral springs scattered across the country. Georgians don't treat mineral water as a fancy restaurant add-on — it's a daily staple, a digestive remedy, and in some cases, a point of regional pride more fiercely defended than wine preferences.

The tradition runs deep. Balneological spa towns like Borjomi, Sairme, and Tskaltubo were famous during the Russian Empire and became massive health resort complexes under the Soviets. People traveled from across the USSR to "take the waters," and the habit of drinking specific mineral waters for specific ailments persists today. Your Georgian mother-in-law will have opinions about which water helps with digestion, which one is best for kidney stones, and which one is too salty for everyday drinking.

The Major Brands

Borjomi: The One Everyone Knows

Borjomi is Georgia's most famous export after wine. The naturally carbonated volcanic water has been bottled since the 1890s, and during the Soviet era it was the prestige mineral water of the entire Union — served at state dinners, prescribed by doctors, and hoarded by anyone who could get their hands on it. Today it's exported to over 40 countries.

The taste is... an experience. If you're used to Pellegrino or Perrier, Borjomi will be a shock. It's aggressively mineral, distinctly salty, with a volcanic tang that some people describe as "drinking a hot spring." First-timers often grimace. Regulars swear it settles the stomach after a heavy meal — which, at a Georgian supra, is every meal.

Nabeghlavi: The Local Favorite

Ask a Georgian which mineral water they actually drink daily, and many will say Nabeghlavi — not Borjomi. It's cheaper, milder, and doesn't make you feel like you're gargling seawater. Sourced from springs in Guria (western Georgia), Nabeghlavi has a cleaner, more approachable mineral profile. It's the water most restaurants pour when you just say "mineral water, please."

Roadside Springs

One of the small pleasures of driving through Georgia is the roadside mineral springs. You'll see them everywhere — pipes jutting from cliff faces, stone fountains by the highway, sometimes just a trickle from a rock face with locals filling up plastic jugs. The water is free, often naturally carbonated, and the mineral composition changes every few kilometers. In regions like Racha and Svaneti, stopping to fill bottles at a spring is as routine as stopping for gas.

Lagidze Water: Georgia's Original Craft Soda

In 1887, a young pharmacist's apprentice named Mitrofan Lagidze started experimenting with natural fruit syrups in Kutaisi. He combined them with carbonated water and sold them from a soda fountain — and accidentally created what might be Georgia's most charming beverage tradition.

Lagidze Water (ლაღიძის წყალი) is flavored sparkling water made with natural fruit and herb syrups. No artificial colors, no preservatives — just syrup and bubbles. The original Lagidze establishment still operates in Tbilisi on Pushkin Street, where they dispense the drinks from vintage-looking soda fountains in the same flavors that made Mitrofan famous over a century ago.

Classic Lagidze Flavors

Limonati: Georgian Lemonade Culture

The word "limonati" (ლიმონათი) in Georgian doesn't mean lemon drink. It means any flavored carbonated soft drink — the way Americans use "soda" or "pop." Walk into any restaurant and the limonati menu will have a dozen options: tarragon, pear, cream soda, grape, feijoa, saperavi, lemon, orange, and a few regional specialties.

The biggest commercial brands are Natakhtari and Borjomi (which launched a limonati line). Natakhtari dominates the market — their tarkhuna and cream soda are ubiquitous. These are sweeter and more commercial than Lagidze, but they're genuinely popular. At any family gathering or birthday party, you'll see a row of two-liter Natakhtari bottles alongside the wine.

Limonati vs. Lagidze vs. Western Soda

Tarkhuna: The Drink That Defines Georgian Soda

Tarkhuna (ტარხუნა) deserves its own section because it's not just a flavor — it's a cultural phenomenon. This bright-green, tarragon-flavored soda was invented by Mitrofan Lagidze in the 1880s and became one of the most beloved soft drinks across the entire Soviet Union. It's still everywhere in Georgia, Russia, and the post-Soviet world.

The flavor is genuinely unlike anything in Western soda culture. Imagine if someone made a sparkling drink from fresh tarragon — herbal, slightly anise-like, sweet but with a green, almost medicinal edge. The color is startling: electric green, opaque, looking more like a science experiment than a beverage. First sip is always confusing. By the third, you're hooked.

Every restaurant in Georgia serves tarkhuna. It pairs surprisingly well with heavy, meat-based Georgian food — the herbal freshness cuts through the richness of dishes like mtsvadi or ojakhuri the way a good IPA cuts through barbecue.

Kompot: Soviet Heritage, Georgian Soul

Kompot (კომპოტი) is deceptively simple: fresh or dried fruit, simmered in water with sugar, then served chilled. It's not juice — the fruit stays whole or in chunks. It's not tea — there are no leaves. It's essentially a fruit infusion, and every Georgian grandmother has been making it since before you were born.

The tradition is deeply tied to Georgia's fruit abundance. When summer hits and the markets overflow with peaches, cherries, plums, apricots, and pears, making kompot is a natural response. You simmer the fruit, drink the liquid cold over the next few days, and eat the soft fruit with a spoon. In winter, dried fruit kompot serves the same purpose — warmth, sweetness, vitamins.

Common Kompot Varieties

You'll find kompot in almost every Georgian restaurant, usually listed quietly at the bottom of the drinks menu. It's also the default homemade drink — when a Georgian family invites you over, the pitcher on the table is almost certainly kompot, not juice.

Coffee and Tea: Daily Rituals

Georgian coffee culture has undergone a transformation. Fifteen years ago, "coffee" in Georgia meant Turkish-style: finely ground, boiled in a small pot (called a jezve or turka), and served with the grounds still in the cup. You'd find it everywhere — in homes, at street stalls, in tiny neighborhood cafés where retired men would sit for hours playing backgammon.

That tradition still exists, but Tbilisi has developed a genuine specialty coffee scene. The city is packed with third-wave coffee shops — places that roast their own beans, obsess over pour-over ratios, and charge ₾8–12 for a flat white. The shift happened fast, roughly between 2015 and 2020, driven by the same young, globally connected generation that transformed Tbilisi's restaurant and nightlife scenes.

Georgian Tea

Tea has a surprisingly deep history in Georgia. The country was the primary tea producer for the entire Soviet Union, with massive plantations in the subtropical western regions — particularly Guria, Samegrelo, and Adjara. At its peak in the 1980s, Georgia produced over 150,000 tons of tea annually, making it one of the world's larger tea producers.

The industry collapsed after independence, and most of those vast tea plantations were abandoned. But a small revival is underway: a handful of producers are growing high-quality Georgian tea again, and you can find it in specialty shops in Tbilisi. Georgian black tea has a mild, slightly floral character — nothing like the robustness of Assam or the astringency of cheap Chinese tea.

In everyday life, though, most Georgians drink imported tea. Black tea with sugar is the standard — served in a glass or small cup, always hot, always offered to guests. Herbal teas are also common, especially in rural areas: mountain thyme, chamomile, mint, and various wild herb blends that grandmothers collect in summer and dry for winter.

Chacha: Georgia's Firewater

Chacha (ჭაჭა) is Georgia's pomace brandy — a clear spirit distilled from the grape skins, seeds, and stems left over after winemaking. Think Italian grappa, but wilder. Where grappa has been refined into a sophisticated digestif, chacha retains a rough, agrarian character that reflects its origins: this is a farmer's drink, born from the principle that nothing from the grape harvest should go to waste.

The word "chacha" literally means "grape pomace" in Georgian. After the grapes are pressed and the juice goes into qvevri for wine, the remaining solids are collected, sometimes mixed with water, and left to ferment for a few weeks. Then they're distilled — traditionally in a copper still over an open fire, though professional producers now use modern equipment.

Commercial chacha ranges from 40% to 50% ABV and is increasingly polished — some distilleries age it in oak barrels, producing an amber spirit that resembles brandy. But the chacha that most Georgians actually drink is homemade, unaged, and can push 60–70% ABV. Every family in Kakheti (the main wine region) either makes their own or knows someone who does.

How Chacha Is Made

Chacha Varieties

Beer: The New Kid

Georgia is not historically a beer country. Wine has dominated for millennia, and beer was mostly an afterthought — cheap lager for hot days when wine felt too heavy. The main commercial brands (Natakhtari, Kazbegi, Argo) produce standard pale lagers that serve their purpose without inspiring much passion.

But craft beer has quietly taken hold in Tbilisi. Several microbreweries have opened in the last decade, producing IPAs, stouts, wheat beers, and even sour ales. Places like Black Dog Bar, Ludi (ლუდი means "beer" in Georgian), and several taprooms around Marjanishvili and Vera neighborhoods offer rotating taps of locally brewed beer. It's still a niche scene — at most Georgian restaurants, your beer options remain Natakhtari or Kazbegi — but it's growing.

Matsoni Drinks: Drinkable Yogurt

Matsoni (მაწონი) is Georgia's traditional fermented milk product — thick, tangy, similar to yogurt but made with a different bacterial culture that gives it a distinctly sour, almost effervescent quality. While it's primarily eaten as a food (with bread, as a soup base, with honey for dessert), diluted matsoni is also a common drink.

Mix matsoni with cold water and a pinch of salt and you get something very close to Turkish ayran or Persian doogh — a tangy, refreshing, slightly salty yogurt drink. Some people add fresh mint or dill. It's the traditional pairing with khinkali — the cold, creamy sourness of matsoni drink cuts through the rich, meaty broth of the dumplings perfectly.

You'll also find commercial matsoni drinks in Georgian supermarkets, usually flavored with fruit or herbs. They're decent, but the homemade version — especially made with village matsoni, which is thicker and more sour than commercial — is in a different league.

Other Georgian Drinks Worth Knowing

What to Drink When: A Pairing Guide

Where to Try Georgian Drinks

Frequently Asked Questions