The Story of Our Plov

They say every great journey has its beginning. For our plov, that beginning lies in the old biker garages — so far back in time that it’s hard to remember clearly, as if those days rode away along with the roar of engines, leaving only warm echoes in memory.

We used to gather there in the evenings, firing up the grill right next to our motorcycles, making shashlik, arguing about roads, laughing loudly, listening to rock music, and learning to cook with the same passion we had for riding.

And one day, fate led a woman from Uzbekistan into our garage. She watched our attempts to make plov… and smiled, as if she carried an ancient secret.

And she did. She revealed to us the golden rule of true Uzbek plov — the one that changed everything:

“Plov is not about the meat. Plov is about the carrots. There must be as much carrot as rice and meat — one to one.”

We were surprised. We always thought the meat was the star. But she showed us how the aroma of well-fried carrots transforms the zirov — how the sweetness, depth, and body of the dish come from it. From that day, we started learning from scratch.

Years of practice, dozens of cauldrons, countless experiments, travels, new people, new knowledge — all of that slowly shaped a story. A story of how a simple dish becomes craftsmanship.

And now, many years after those garage nights, here it is — our plov. Authentic. Alive. Exactly the way it should be. With the harmony of meat, rice, and that legendary golden carrot.

Welcome to our story. Welcome to the table.