Chanakhi: Georgia's Slow-Baked Lamb and Eggplant Stew

Chanakhi (ჩანახი) is what happens when you put lamb, eggplant, potatoes, tomatoes, and a fistful of herbs into a clay pot, shove it in the oven, and leave it alone for three hours. No stirring. No fussing. No checking every twenty minutes. You walk away, and the oven does something almost alchemical — the lamb fat renders into the vegetables, the tomatoes collapse into a sauce, the eggplant absorbs everything around it, and the potatoes soak up the juices until they're more flavor than starch. It's one of those dishes that rewards patience over technique, and it's been feeding Georgian families through cold winters for centuries.

Why This Stew Matters

Georgian cooking has flashy dishes — khinkali with their intricate pleats, khachapuri in its various architectural forms, satsivi with its elaborate walnut sauce. Chanakhi is none of those things. It's peasant food in the most honest sense. No show-off techniques. No hard-to-find ingredients. Just lamb and whatever grows in the garden, cooked slowly in a clay pot until the boundaries between ingredients blur into something deeply satisfying.

The name literally comes from the cooking vessel — chanaki, individual clay pots that look like small amphoras with lids. In traditional Georgian households, each person gets their own pot, assembled in the morning and left in a wood-fired oven for hours. The pot is the plate. You eat directly from it, tearing bread to mop up the rich, herb-flecked juices at the bottom.

What makes chanakhi remarkable is its simplicity. The lamb doesn't get browned first. The vegetables don't get pre-cooked. You just layer everything raw (or close to it), add liquid, seal the pot, and trust the process. The long, slow bake does all the work — breaking down tough lamb shoulder into something spoonable, melting the eggplant into silk, and concentrating the tomato juices into a sauce that tastes like it took hours of reduction. Which, in a way, it did.

The Clay Pot Question

If you're reading this outside of Georgia, you probably don't have traditional chanaki pots. That's fine. A Dutch oven works beautifully. So does any heavy, lidded oven-proof pot — cast iron, enameled ceramic, even a deep casserole dish sealed tightly with foil. The important things are: it holds heat well, it seals moisture in, and it's oven-safe for 3 hours at moderate heat.

That said, if you can find individual clay pots (they're sold cheaply at any market in Georgia, and available online in specialty shops), the experience changes. Something about each person having their own sealed pot, cracking it open at the table, getting hit with that first rush of herb-scented steam — it turns dinner into an event. The clay also gives a subtle earthy flavor that metal can't replicate.

Ingredients

This recipe serves 4 people in individual portions, or makes one large pot for family-style eating. Every ingredient here is cheap and available year-round, which is exactly why chanakhi became a staple — it's peasant economics at its finest.

Equipment

Step-by-Step Recipe

Step 1: Prepare Everything

Cut the lamb into large chunks — about 5cm. You want them big enough to stay intact through 3 hours of cooking. Leave the bone in wherever possible. Season the meat generously with salt, black pepper, and ground coriander. Let it sit while you prep the vegetables.

Slice the eggplant into 2cm rounds. Cut potatoes into large cubes (about 3–4cm). Slice onions into thick rings. Quarter the tomatoes. Peel garlic cloves but leave them whole. Roughly chop all the herbs — stems included for cilantro and parsley, they soften completely during the bake.

Step 2: Layer the Pot

This is where chanakhi either works or doesn't. The order matters because each layer contributes differently to the final dish:

Bottom layer — Lamb: Arrange the seasoned meat in a single layer on the bottom of the pot. Tuck knobs of butter between the pieces. The lamb goes on the bottom because it needs the longest, most direct heat to break down. The butter melts into the meat and starts the braising liquid.

Second layer — Onions: Spread the onion rings over the lamb. They'll dissolve into sweetness over 3 hours, forming the backbone of the sauce.

Third layer — Eggplant: Lay the eggplant slices over the onions. Eggplant is a sponge — it will absorb the lamb fat and juices rising from below, becoming impossibly rich and silky.

Fourth layer — Potatoes: Scatter the potato cubes over the eggplant. They cook in the steam rising from the lower layers and absorb the concentrated flavors.

Top layer — Tomatoes: Arrange the quartered tomatoes across the top, covering everything. They create a seal that traps moisture, and their acid breaks down into the sauce as they cook. Tuck the garlic cloves and optional hot pepper between the layers wherever there's space.

Herbs: Scatter generous handfuls of chopped cilantro, basil, and parsley between every layer — not just on top. You want herbs throughout the pot so their flavor permeates everything.

Step 3: Add Liquid and Seal

Pour the water or stock gently down the side of the pot — don't pour it over the tomatoes, or you'll wash the seasoning off the layers. The liquid should barely reach the bottom layers. This might seem like not enough, but the vegetables release an enormous amount of liquid as they cook. By the end, there will be more than enough sauce.

Season the top layer with a final pinch of salt. Cover the pot tightly. If your lid doesn't seal perfectly, lay a sheet of foil over the top before placing the lid — you want as little moisture escaping as possible.

Step 4: Bake Low and Slow

Place the pot in the oven at 180°C (350°F). If using clay pots, put them in while the oven is cold and let them heat up together — this prevents thermal shock and cracking.

Bake for 2.5 to 3 hours. Do not open the lid. Do not stir. Do not peek. This is the hardest part and the most important. Every time you open the pot, you release steam that's doing critical work — breaking down the lamb, melting the eggplant, concentrating the sauce. Trust the process.

You'll know it's ready when you can smell it through the oven door. The lamb should be falling off the bone with zero resistance. The eggplant should have dissolved into the sauce. The potatoes should be tender but still holding their shape. The liquid should be reduced to a rich, herb-flecked sauce — not watery, not dry.

Step 5: Rest and Serve

Let the pot rest for 10 minutes with the lid on. This lets the sauce settle and the temperature equalize. Then bring the whole pot to the table — chanakhi is served in its cooking vessel. Scatter a final handful of fresh herbs on top.

Serve with Georgian bread — shotis puri or tonis puri, ideally. The bread is not optional. Half the point of chanakhi is tearing off chunks of bread and soaking up the sauce at the bottom of the pot, where the lamb fat, tomato juices, and herb oils have merged into something extraordinary. A simple salad of sliced tomatoes, cucumbers, and fresh herbs on the side is traditional. Cheese — sulguni or imeruli — is welcome but not necessary.

Tips for Perfect Chanakhi

Common Mistakes

Variations

What to Serve Alongside

Where to Eat Chanakhi in Tbilisi

Nutrition

Storage and Reheating

Frequently Asked Questions