Chakhokhbili: Georgia's Herb-Loaded Chicken Stew

Chakhokhbili is the dish Georgians cook when they don't want to think too hard about dinner. A whole chicken goes into a pot with a mountain of onions and tomatoes, simmers for under an hour, and comes out in a sauce so bright and herby it barely resembles what went in. The name comes from khokhobi (ხოხობი) — the Georgian word for pheasant — because that's what this was before chickens took over. Today nobody uses pheasant. Everyone uses chicken. And every family has a version they'll defend with unreasonable passion.

Why Chakhokhbili Matters

If you want to understand what Georgians actually eat at home — not what they serve tourists, not what looks best on a menu — chakhokhbili is your answer. It's on almost every restaurant menu in the country, usually priced between 12-18 GEL, served in a clay pot or straight from a saucepan. It's one of those dishes that's so ordinary to Georgians that they're sometimes surprised foreigners want a recipe for it.

But ordinary doesn't mean simple-minded. The magic of chakhokhbili is in its ratios: the amount of onion to chicken is almost absurd. You look at four large onions for one chicken and think there's been a mistake. There hasn't. Those onions melt down into the tomato sauce over 45 minutes and create something silky and sweet that balances the acidity of the tomatoes and the punch of fresh herbs. The onion is the sauce.

Then there's the herb situation. Chakhokhbili uses more fresh herbs than almost any other Georgian dish, and Georgian cooking already uses a lot. Cilantro is non-negotiable. Flat-leaf parsley goes in. Many families add fresh basil in summer and tarragon if they have it. All of it gets stirred in at the very end so it stays bright and fragrant rather than cooking down to nothing.

Chakhokhbili vs. Other Georgian Chicken Dishes

Georgia has several iconic chicken dishes, and they're all fundamentally different. Confusing them is forgivable — there are only so many things you can do with a bird — but here's how chakhokhbili sits in the lineup:

The comparison to Italian chicken cacciatore isn't accidental. Both are braised chicken in tomato sauce with herbs. The key differences: chakhokhbili uses vastly more onion (the onion-to-everything ratio is the defining feature), relies on cilantro instead of rosemary and thyme, and the sauce is brighter and more acidic rather than rich and earthy. If cacciatore is a warm hug, chakhokhbili is a firm handshake from someone who just came in from the garden with an armful of herbs.

The Pheasant Problem

Every article about chakhokhbili mentions the pheasant origin. Most leave it at that — a fun etymological footnote. But it's worth understanding why the switch happened, because it explains something about how Georgian food evolves.

Pheasants were genuinely common in Georgian forests for centuries. Hunters would bring them home, and the standard treatment for any game bird was to braise it slowly with whatever was seasonal — onions, tomatoes after the Columbian exchange, herbs from the garden. The word khokhobi stuck to the dish the way "hamburger" stuck to ground beef patties even after they left Hamburg.

By the Soviet era, hunting became less practical for most families and chicken became the default protein. The dish kept its name and, importantly, kept its character. The braising technique that made tough pheasant meat tender works beautifully on chicken — especially dark meat on the bone, which has the connective tissue that breaks down into gelatin and enriches the sauce.

Choosing the Right Chicken

This matters more than you think. In Georgia, chickens are smaller (1.2-1.5 kg), often free-range, and people typically buy a whole bird and cut it up at home. The meat has more flavour and less water content than the average supermarket bird in Europe or North America.

Ingredients Breakdown

Step-by-Step Instructions

Step 1: Sear the Chicken

Pat the chicken pieces completely dry with paper towels. This is not optional — wet chicken steams instead of browning, and the sear is where half the flavour comes from. Season generously with salt and pepper on all sides.

Heat 2 tablespoons of oil in a large, heavy pot (a Dutch oven is ideal) over medium-high heat until the oil shimmers. Lay chicken pieces skin-side down in a single layer — don't crowd the pot, work in two batches if needed. Sear without touching for 4-5 minutes until the skin is deep golden-brown and releases easily. Flip and sear the other side 3-4 minutes. Remove to a plate.

The fond (browned bits) stuck to the bottom of the pot is gold. Don't scrub it off. Don't panic. It's going to dissolve into the onions and become the backbone of your sauce.

Step 2: The Onion Foundation (12-15 Minutes)

Pour off all but about 2 tablespoons of rendered chicken fat. Lower heat to medium. Add all four sliced onions with a generous pinch of salt. This is going to look like an insane amount of onion. Trust it.

Cook, stirring every few minutes, for 12-15 minutes. The onions will release moisture that deglazes the fond, turning from raw and sharp to soft, sweet, and almost jammy. They should be completely wilted and starting to turn gold at the edges. This step cannot be rushed. Underdone onions make the sauce taste raw and harsh.

Step 3: Build the Base

Add the minced garlic, sliced hot peppers, and tomato paste to the softened onions. Stir constantly for 1-2 minutes until the garlic is fragrant and the tomato paste darkens slightly — this cooks out its tinny raw flavour.

Add the chopped tomatoes (or canned whole tomatoes, crushing them with your hands as you add them). Cook 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, as the tomatoes break down and merge with the onions. Add the ground coriander, blue fenugreek, dried marigold, black pepper, and bay leaves.

Step 4: Braise (35-40 Minutes)

Return the chicken pieces to the pot, pressing them down into the sauce. The liquid from the tomatoes and onions should come about halfway up the chicken — you don't want them submerged. Bring to a gentle simmer, cover, and lower the heat.

Cook for 35-40 minutes. Check once or twice — the sauce should be gently bubbling, not aggressively boiling. When done, the chicken should be completely tender (the meat will pull easily from the bone) and the sauce should have thickened into a rich, clingy consistency. If the sauce is too thin, remove the lid for the last 10 minutes.

Step 5: The Herb Finish

This is what makes chakhokhbili chakhokhbili. Roughly chop the cilantro (stems and all — the stems have more flavour), parsley, and any basil or tarragon you're using. Stir the entire mass of herbs into the pot. Cook uncovered for just 2-3 minutes — long enough for the herbs to wilt into the sauce but not so long that they lose their colour and fragrance.

Remove from heat. Taste. Adjust salt. Let it sit for 5 minutes before serving — this resting time lets the sauce tighten up slightly and the herbs infuse further.

Visual Doneness Cues

How to Serve Chakhokhbili

In Georgia, chakhokhbili comes to the table in the pot or in a clay ketsi, still steaming. Everyone tears bread and scoops. That's the correct way to eat it — the sauce is the point, and bread is the delivery mechanism.

Regional Variations

Like every Georgian dish, chakhokhbili shifts depending on who's cooking and where. The base technique is the same — sear chicken, cook onions, add tomatoes, braise, finish with herbs — but the details change.

The Adjika Question

Some cooks — particularly in western Georgia — add a spoonful of adjika paste to their chakhokhbili. If you've had chashushuli, you know how transformative adjika can be in a tomato-based stew. In chakhokhbili, adjika adds a roasted pepper depth and a lingering, slow-building heat that complements the fresh herbs perfectly.

If you have adjika (Megrelian or Abkhaz-style — the thick paste, not the Russian ketchup-like sauce marketed as "adjika"), stir in 1-2 teaspoons when you add the tomato paste. Start with one teaspoon. Taste. It should add warmth and complexity without overpowering the herb-forward character of the dish.

If you don't have adjika, don't worry about it. The dish is complete without it. The hot green peppers provide enough heat for a standard chakhokhbili.

Storage and Leftovers

Common Mistakes

Where to Eat Chakhokhbili in Georgia

The thing about chakhokhbili is that it's better at home than in most restaurants. It's a home-cooking dish at heart — the kind of thing someone's mother makes perfectly and a restaurant makes adequately. That said, if you want to try it out:

Nutrition

Frequently Asked Questions