Kupati: Georgia's Spiced Pork Sausage

Kupati is the smell of every Georgian barbecue. Before you see the meat, before anyone pours the wine, you smell the kupati — pork fat hitting charcoal, blue fenugreek and coriander smoke curling through the air, casings splitting just enough to leak juice onto the coals. These are not delicate sausages. They're fat, coarse, aggressively spiced, and they come to you charred and splitting on a plate with nothing but raw onion and a slab of bread. That's all they need.

What Makes Kupati Different

Every country with pigs makes sausages. What separates kupati from bratwurst, chorizo, or Italian sausage is the spice profile. Blue fenugreek (utskho suneli) is the signature — a warm, slightly bitter, earthy spice that doesn't exist in any other sausage tradition. Pair that with coriander seed, dried summer savory (kondari), and dried barberries for a faint tartness, and you have something that tastes specifically, unmistakably Georgian.

The other difference is texture. Kupati is coarsely ground — some families hand-chop the meat entirely. You can see and feel distinct pieces of pork in each bite, not the smooth paste of a hot dog or the fine grain of a bratwurst. Combined with the natural casing, which snaps when you bite through it, kupati has a rustic, substantial quality that makes mass-produced sausages feel like processed food (which, of course, they are).

Regional Variations

Like most Georgian dishes, kupati changes when you cross a mountain range. The recipe above follows the most common style, but families in different parts of the country have their own takes:

The Samegrelo version is the boldest. Megrelians often include organ meats — liver and heart ground into the mix — which gives a richer, more mineral flavor. They also add adjika, the fiery Megrelian chili paste, making their kupati noticeably hotter than the Imeretian standard. If you order kupati at a restaurant in Zugdidi or Senaki, expect to sweat.

In Kakheti, some families fold ground walnuts into the meat mixture, which adds richness and a slightly creamy quality when the fat renders. This is less common now but worth trying if you ever get invited to a Kakhetian family table.

Ingredients Breakdown

Let's talk about what goes in and why each ingredient matters. Georgian sausage-making isn't about throwing spices at meat — every component has a function.

Step-by-Step Instructions

Step 1: Prepare the Meat

Cut the pork shoulder and belly into chunks that fit your meat grinder. If you're grinding at home, keep the meat cold — even stick it in the freezer for 30 minutes before grinding. Warm meat smears through the grinder instead of cutting cleanly, and you end up with a paste instead of the coarse texture you want.

Grind through a medium-coarse plate (6-8mm holes). If you don't own a grinder, you can hand-chop the meat with a large knife — dice it into pieces roughly the size of lentils. This is actually the more traditional method and gives a superior texture, though it takes 20-30 minutes of chopping.

Step 2: Season the Filling

Finely chop the onions — you want them nearly minced, not chunky. Add them to the meat along with minced garlic, all the spices, salt, and pepper. Mix everything by hand (wearing gloves if you want) for a good 3-4 minutes. You're not just combining ingredients — you're developing a slight bind in the meat that helps it hold together inside the casing.

Add the warm broth a splash at a time. The filling should be moist and workable — if you squeeze a handful, it should hold its shape but feel soft, not dense. Too dry and the sausages will be tough. Too wet and they'll fall apart.

Step 3: Marinate (Don't Skip This)

Cover the bowl and refrigerate for at least 2-4 hours. Overnight is ideal. During this time, the salt penetrates the meat, the spices bloom, and the onion juice mingles with the pork fat. The difference between immediate stuffing and overnight marinating is dramatic — not subtle.

Step 4: Prepare the Casings

Natural pork casings come packed in salt. Rinse them thoroughly under cold running water, both inside and outside. The easiest way to rinse the inside is to fit one end over the faucet nozzle and run water through. Then soak them in warm water with a tablespoon of vinegar for 30 minutes. This softens them and removes any residual smell. Rinse one more time before using.

Before you start stuffing, run water through each casing to check for holes. If you find one, just cut there — you'll have two shorter casings instead of one long one. No big deal.

Step 5: Stuff the Sausages

This is the part that separates reading a recipe from actually making sausage. If you've never stuffed casings before, expect the first two to be ugly. That's fine — they'll taste the same.

Slide the entire length of casing onto your stuffing nozzle (a sausage-stuffing attachment for your grinder works best, but a wide funnel and wooden spoon handle also work). Tie a knot at the end. Feed the meat through slowly and steadily. The key rule: don't overfill. Leave about 20% slack in the casing — when you twist it into links, you need room. An overstuffed casing will burst on the grill, and instead of kupati you'll have expensive loose meat.

Once filled, twist or tie with kitchen string at 20-25cm intervals. The traditional shape is a horseshoe — curve each link into a U-shape. Some people also coil them into spirals.

Prick each sausage 2-3 times with a needle or toothpick. This releases trapped air and prevents the casing from bursting during cooking. Don't stab aggressively — tiny pinholes are enough.

Step 6: Cook the Kupati

Three methods, one clear winner:

How to Serve Kupati

Kupati doesn't need a complex presentation. In Georgia, you'll get it on a plate with:

• Raw white onion rings — essential, not optional. The sharp bite of raw onion cuts through the rich pork fat. Soak them in cold water for 10 minutes if you find them too aggressive.
• Pomegranate seeds — scattered over the top. The tiny bursts of sweetness and acidity are the perfect counterpoint.
• Fresh herbs — tarragon, cilantro, and basil (the purple variety). Eat them whole between bites of sausage.
• Bread — mchadi (cornbread) is the classic pairing. Fresh shotis puri works too.
• Tkemali — sour plum sauce on the side. The tartness and the richness need each other.

Kupati is barbecue food. It belongs at outdoor gatherings, eaten with your hands, with wine flowing. Serve it alongside mtsvadi (grilled pork) and badrijani nigvzit as starters, and you have the beginning of a proper Georgian supra.

Equipment You Need

You don't need professional butcher equipment. Here's what actually works at home:

Storing and Freezing

This is a batch recipe for a reason. Kupati freezes beautifully, and you'll thank yourself when you have homemade sausages ready to grill on a Wednesday night.

Common Mistakes

Where to Eat Kupati in Georgia

If you're in Georgia and want to taste the real thing before attempting it at home, here are the rules:

Every restaurant in Tbilisi serves kupati. Most are fine. But the best kupati isn't in restaurants — it's at roadside BBQ spots (called sachere) along highways, especially the road from Tbilisi to Kutaisi. Look for places with a mangal (charcoal grill) going, smoke in the air, and locals eating. The kupati at these stops costs 5-8 GEL per sausage and is almost always better than what you'll get at a fancy restaurant for 15 GEL.

In Tbilisi specifically, try kupati at traditional restaurants in the Abanotubani (Old Town) area. Avoid the places with trilingual menus and tourist photos — find the ones where the menu is handwritten in Georgian.

Frequently Asked Questions