Cook

Still feeling exhilarated about Giorgi’s vineyards (and upset about Chachkari’s walnut trees), we turn from the Mtkvari Valley road into Makvala Aspanidze’s narrow driveway. Inside the gates is a familiar rural setting: haystacks, woodpiles and flat circular baskets of stoned plums drying in the sun. A few chickens peck at the grass around her single-storey house of grey stone and rough mortar; they scatter as she comes to greet us.

Makvala’s interior makes an unforgettable impression. The main front room runs the width of the house and includes an area with three neatly made single beds, a small dining table with chairs, a modest kitchenette and a storage area for grains and seeds. What makes this three-in-one still more unusual is that the roofbeams seem, at some point, to have been raised and the internal walls partly removed. The result is more like a theatre set than a conventional house, particularly as we discover that Makvala now lives here alone. There are more rooms to the back, including Makvala’s bedroom. Beside her bed, a wood-burning stove heats the house and can be used for cooking.