On Friday I got to experience what it might be like for the rest of the world to eat out, to not be afflicted with crippling menu anxiety.

I went to Red Compass with my boss and a group of  her friends. Most of them graduated from NYU’s Food Studies program, or the Cordon Bleu in Paris. So when she invited me to a Georgian restaurant, despite my complete dearth of knowledge of the cuisine (ahem, country), I knew it would be an enlightening experience.

We met at Black Crescent– an oyster and craft cocktail bar that recently reopened after an electrical fire, more on that in another post– for a drink before our reservation. Whitney introduced me to her friends: Megan, who manages an Italian restaurant in Meat Packing; Zara, an artist with decidedly food-focused hobbies (kombucha and kraut- making among them); and Kyle, a software engineer at a startup.

We drank cocktails with bell pepper shrubs and I listened to them casually throw around terms like khinkali, lobio, and khachapuri. The group usually goes to Oda House in the East Village for their Georgian food fix, but Red Compass just opened on Orchard Street, and they were excited to try a new one.

Kyle, the friendly techie outlier in a group of food nerds, explained each dish to me with the ease and  cultural awareness of a Georgian.  He casually mentioned his brother studied linguistics in Georgia on Fulbright for a year. Kyle spent three months there with him, eating Georgian food, obviously, and learning the language (surprisingly well).

We collected friends at Black Crescent, and grew to a congenial (read: tipsy) party of seven by the time we sat in the semi-basement tavern. White linen-tablecloths, exposed brick, and a live piano player belied the Georgian culture (so I was told), but it was certainly quaint.

The exclusively Georgian wine list included eight bottles under $45, and one red and one white at $65. Our server promptly recommended both with the high price tag (who could blame her). We opted to sample three of the more affordable whites, all grapes unbeknownst to me. Most reminded me of Sicilian Grillos: perfumed and slightly sticky, teetering on oxidized flavors, but not too sweet.

The more erudite members of our party– temporary Georgian resident at the helm– checked in with the lay folk for any particular preferences or aversions, but then they went to town. Phkali, kuchmachi, pork and mushroom khinkali, cold yogurt soup, kuchmachi, assorted pickles, lobio, megruli khachapuri, adjaruli khachapuri… I am pulling all of the names that sound familiar from the menu online.

For one evening, I put my faith, my dining fate, in orderers far wiser, far more cultured, and equally as open to new foods as I consider myself to me. I was not disappointed. It made me wonder if I should let people order for me more often. What do my biases towards bottarga and against ravioli mean!?

The flavors fall somewhere on the spectrum between Eastern European (Bulgarian maybe, hearty and brothy), and Middle Eastern… with a lot of cheesy bread. Khinkali are Georgia’s answer to soup dumplings, the dough is pillowy like pierogi’s and the broth is rich like …soup dumplings. Order them.

Red Compass is cozy, delicious (yes, I said it), affordable, and satisfies the desire for something new. Even if you don’t go with one of the few people who has lived in Georgia, you certainly cannot make a poor decision at this restaurant.

For more on what the aforementioned  Red Compass menu items are…  check back shortly.