Brick Oven Bread

superb delicious khachapuri!!! salads are good too!

Really good small khachapuri for $ 2.50, better than tone café’s free one. More cheese inside. The big katchapuri are $ 7 and look delicious as well. The sign outside just read Georgian food and it’s a tiny storefront with barely any room inside for customers. Service is gruff but that seems the norm around here.

I’ve only been to Brick Oven Bread once, and I was Bricking it, because I used to be in the Uzbeki Mafia, and the Georgian Mafia (who run this store) are, let’s just say, not too friendly with the Uzbeks. In fact I think we killed several of their 27 children while I was second in command, and they probably killed a few of my boss’ kids too, although not the ones she liked best so it was no biggie. Of course once the Kazakh and Latvian Mafia got involved and the majority of our elders had to flee to Moldova, that was the end for me. I got out while I was ahead (sort of) and fled to the United States of Former Soviet Mafia People and never looked back.
Okay I did sort of look back a few times but only to make sure I wasn’t being followed by former-​KGB hit squads.
What to get: Khachapuri.
What else: Don’t go if you’re Uzbeki. You will be shot on sight. Unless you’re me and know how to dress up like a Moldovan.
Brick Oven Bread is a hidden gem in Brighton Beach, way down near Coney Island and all that good stuff. The trouble is that you probably venture down here more often in the summer, and this isn’t really summer food, it’s winter food. The kind that will fill that little almost-​non-​existent Hipster tummy of yours in ways that you’ve never been filled before.
What you should order, as I said, is the Khacahapuri which is the Georgian Bread. It’s dirt cheap (although dirt is becoming more expensive these days — but not in Georgia), it’s enormous (and so am I), and it’s indescribably delicious. Which means I’m not even going to start describing it because I wouldn’t be able to do it justice. It manages to be charred and doughy and crusty and even a little moist all at the same time. It’s big enough for 2 or 3 people to share and the price is shockingly low.
I’ll be back to try other things one of these days. It’s hard when you live 380 miles away from Brighton Beach.
If you’ve never had Georgian food, especially Georgian bread, make the trip down here to Brighton Beach and put some of this in your mouth. Don’t worry about the Georgian Mafia. If you come here for their bread, all you’ve done to wrong Georgian people in your life will be forgiven. So come and break bread with them. But if you Break it: you buy it.

My friend had one mission during her recent visit from Massachusetts: khachapuri adjaruli. After consuming a meal fit for two kings at a nearby restaurant and taking obligatory photos outside my pre-​k from yesteryear named Cinderella Day Care (I am royal), she needed a fix for her addiction. Admittedly, I am her pusher so I was tasked with finding a place to supply.
Luckily, we happened to run across Brick Oven Bread. A small Georgian bakery, it is clear that everything is made onsite and fresh to order. With an extensive list of Georgian specialties ranging from breads to stews to confections, this tiny shop offers up a lot of options. Nonetheless, my friend, with the help of my Russian skills, placed an order and awaited the glory as it was being crafted.
While we parted ways (me to visit my lovable «I remember Brezhnev» grandmothers and she to Rockefeller Center), we later dined on the bread back at my place. By that point, the cheese had chilled and curdled in the yolky mixture. Even upon reheating, the texture wasn’t quite right. In addition, we found the mix to be a bit too salty (heavy on the Georgian sulguni cheese). It was a decent khachapuri, but definitely not the best I’ve ever had. I would definitely come back to Brick Oven to try some things FRESH off the grill or oven next time.

(I think the name of this place has been changed to Georgian Food and Bakery, but I’m not sure. That’s definitely the name on the menu they gave me.)
I have eaten a lot of Napoleans in my time, but never anything like this (even in Paris). And that’s not even a Georgian dish.
The Khachapuri (I think it was the Imeruli — they have several varieties and all look delicious) that the owner offered to me and the17 high school students with me (who had traveled to Brighton Beach as part of our investigation into immigrant communities in NYC) was like a croissant filled with nectar. My students, who will rarely agree to sample unfamiliar food, dug in with gusto. By the time we were done eating the samples we were offered (shoti, included — 4 giant loaves), no one had any room left to eat lunch. The owner refused my offer to pay, so I came back later and bought the above-​mentioned Napoleon. My family (I bought a lot and took it home) was grateful.
Here’s the thing — everything the bakers there make seems to come out perfectly. And they also make beautiful cakes for any occasion, and they are more than reasonably priced. If I were planning a wedding or a similar event, I’d get everything here.
You should be aware that it’s a storefront — so not really room to sit down unless the weather’s nice and you grab one of the two chairs outside.
The next time I’m in Brighton Beach, I’m coming back for more.

«It’s very good», the owner tried to re-​assure me as I pointed towards a box of cookies/​pastries that resembled small croissants. She was struggling with the Georgian name (which I later googled as «Baddam Buri») but offered me the descriptor: «pastry with walnut… good with tea».
I’m pretty sure if the cardamom had been accentuated more, and the texture had been either crisp or soft (as opposed to neither, perhaps a victim of slow turnover?), it would have been an excellent pastry. But, instead the block of cake that I first pointed at instinctively (Smetannik: sour cream and walnut) turned out to be well worth the $ 5 price tag (and likely 5,000 calories from the 7 layers of cream!).
Located on a residential block in Brighton Beach, hard-​to-​find, Brick Oven Bread, is perhaps my favorite of the Georgian bakeries in the city –despite the disappointing (with both less crunch and char than at Georgian Bread) long bread (Shotis Puri) and the smaller Khachapuri (that I didn’t understand at all — a cross between a Khachapuri Imereli and Penovani — but with no star turn from the vehicle containing the cheese). Beyond the selection of affordable sweets with quality that bests that at other Georgian bakeries (with the possible exception of Taste of Georgia), I really like the warm, Imeruli Khachapuri. Their version of soft white bread contains mozzarella and feta cheeses (again, not the traditional: Sulguni) but they are blended together in a way not to remind one of the expected taste of either.
They too carry a large selection of dips, and salads — Pkhali (spinach) and Lobio (kidney beans) are excellent choices. There’s also a lot more to discover here in terms of the selection of sweets. On my next visit, I tried the chocolate cream layer cake — another ¹²⁄₁₄ layer cake that seems to be their forte. I really liked the chocolate, which gave a homemade feel to the experience, but unfortunately the succeeding layers of cake were not as soft and moist as I would have preferred.
That said, I did have a 5 star experience with the cookie: Nushis Namtskhvari (nut cake) which is made with almonds, and when warm (it was feshly baked on the tray) is the perfect balance of crisp exterior and chewy interior).
I will likely be back and hopefully round them up from the current 4.5 stars.
Unhappily, the Georgian bread and cheese binge is likely to ensure that I show up at nearby Brighton Beach wearing an exotic outfit in the warm summer months… the male version of a Burqa!!!

Simply amazing that this place does not have more of a buzz on Unilocal.Khachapuri (Georgian Bread) is one of those ethnic foods that could easily slip past your radar. Go there, try it… get it hot and eat it on the street. Honestly, it’s THAT good. I realize it’s a trek for many people reading this, but Brighton Beach is a very worthy day trip destination for more reasons than Brick Oven Bread.

Wandering along Brighton Beach a few weeks ago, my friends and I came across «Brick Oven Bread,» a Georgian bakery on a residential block, just east of Coney island Avenue.
Completely and utterly full from a long day of butter and cream-​filled Russian treats, we decided to simply note the location before vowing to return as soon as humanly possible. Unfortunately, Thanksgiving and preparation for a trial got in the way, but I was finally able to return with my friend Lizzie and two colleagues of hers visiting from London.
As we walked inside, Lizzie’s friends started asking about Georgia and Georgian food. «That’s where Stalin was from,» I said, summing up about 50% of my Georgian knowledge.
«Stalin?» He replied. «He was a bit of a tinker, wasn’t he?»
Sorry for the digression, onto the food. After Lizzie had a brief conversation in Georgian with what I can only assume was the owner, they brought us out a sliced round of khachapuri. The cheese was applied with far more restraint than at Georgian Bread, and it was slightly sharper. «This is more authentic,» claimed Lizzie.
We also picked up a shotis puri, which is the long bread that looks like it swallowed a football. Here, the bread is a little thicker than at Georgian Bread, a bit doughier and with slightly less char from the tandoori-​like oven (also known as a toné). It’s also massive, probably 1 ½ times the size of Georgian Bread. While good, especially fresh from the oven, I slightly prefer the bread at Georgian Bread.
We also picked up a duo of dips. Chopped spinach was shot through with dill, garlic and pomegranate seeds, while lobio, a kidney bean salad, was covered in walnut sauce, onions and a bit of Georgian chili sauce. Both were devoured with handfuls of puri.
This intriguing bakery is a worthy twin to Georgian Bread only a short walk away, but unlike Georgian Bread, it’s completely off anyone but the local’s radar. An extensive Google search revealed nothing. Nothing on Chowhound, no Unilocal review, not even a 5-​year-​old post by Dave Cook on Eating in Translation (as is almost always the case). How could this be? Well, check it out and see what you’ve been missing.