From Moscow to Tel Aviv to Tbilisi, Daniil Goldman Built a Global Cult Around Jewish Bars. Now, He’s Eyeing New York.

Daniil Goldman is not just a restaurateur, he’s a genre. Known for turning Jewish identity into high-concept nightlife experiences, he’s opened bars across three countries, from the mystic underground of Mitzva in Moscow, to the rebellious Zionist, to Tel Aviv’s unapologetically straightforward Chaseria, and finally Dreidel — a Jewish-Georgian cocktail gem in the heart of Tbilisi.

Several of his venues have earned spots in top international bar rankings, recognized for their bold concepts and unforgettable atmosphere. We sat down with Daniil to talk about what makes his bars stand out, and why New York may be his next great experiment.

Grit Daily: How did you get into the restaurant business? What inspired you to open your first bar?

Daniil Goldman: I had already been experimenting with food concepts, but bar Mitzva was the turning point — the first time I tried to build a world, not just a venue. It started with a basement space in central Moscow — a strange, hidden spot in the old Smirnov distillery building (yes, the OG Smirnov — now known as Smirnoff — was originally produced there). Not exactly a dream location: it was underground, the entrance was through a courtyard, and the neighborhood wasn’t known for nightlife.

But that made it perfect.

My friend and longtime partner, Andrey, and I had a running joke since forever about opening a Jewish bar called Mitzva. The name was so on-the-nose, it looped into being brilliant. No one had done anything like it. We had no real bar experience, and certainly no idea what a “Jewish cocktail bar” should look like — so we invented it from scratch.

We spent nine months renovating the space ourselves. I immersed myself in Jewish mysticism, symbolism, old stereotypes — everything from Kabbalah to folklore. The bar became a theatrical experience: stained glass, sgraffito carvings, a mosaic bar, secret references layered into the design. It was meant to be funny, but deeply serious at the same time. A bar that looked like it belonged to a secret society, or maybe a dream.

People didn’t get it at first. We struggled for over a year. But once we committed fully to the concept — focused on cocktails, adjusted the layout, and owned the narrative — it worked. Mitzva wasn’t just a bar. It was the blueprint for everything I’ve done since.

Grit Daily: What’s behind The Bix: Bar & Legend?

Daniil Goldman: The Bix was born out of jazz, friendship, and a lot of whiskey in New Orleans. Three years after I opened my first bar, I flew to a bar expo in New Orleans — but instead of networking, I ended up bar-hopping through every underground jazz club with my good friend, trumpet player Kostya Gevondyan. One night, somewhere between the music and the hangover, I told him: “You shouldn’t be playing in these holes. We need to build a bar around you.” He said yes. It could’ve been a drunk idea lost to time — if I hadn’t told my girlfriend (now wife) about it.

A few months later, a basement space opened up in Patriarch’s Ponds — the most expensive and fashionable district in Moscow. I had no plan, but I knew I had to take it. My wife reminded me of the New Orleans moment, and Kostya and I decided to go for it.

He suggested naming the bar after Bix Beiderbecke, the jazz legend from the 1920s, and thus The Bix: Bar & Legend was born. Except, eventually, the legend became the bar itself.

We built a time machine: full Art Deco interiors, a cigar lounge, flapper hostesses, bartenders in suspenders, a massive American whiskey collection, classic cocktails, and live jazz every single night. We even celebrated U.S. holidays. And the concerts were always free. I used to say — this isn’t a jazz bar, it’s a nightclub, only with a trumpet instead of a DJ.

Within weeks, a loyal, almost cult-like community formed. They created group chats, rituals, even traditions. I’ve never seen anything like it. The Bix won multiple awards, was named “Best Bar in the City” more than once, and still has lines out the door almost every weekend — even though Kostya and I no longer live in Russia.

It’s not just a bar. It’s a mood, a memory, a legend.

Grit Daily: And what about Zionist? That name alone sparks conversation.

Daniil Goldman: Zionist was a countercultural experiment born from a failed project, LP. The space we found was perfect — a beautiful basement in Pokrovka, the queer and indie heart of Moscow. The concept was punky: a leftist Jewish dive, staffed by bartenders who made food and poured shots, no waitstaff. It felt radical and weird — exactly what that area needed.

I had no money at the time, so I posted on Facebook looking for investors. Thirteen people pitched in small amounts. It was part crowdfunding, part performance art.

Zionist opened in late 2021 and became a home for students, weirdos, and free-thinkers. There were debates, dance nights, and philosophy meetups. It was loud, young, and unfiltered. And it worked. It paid itself off in under three years — rare for the industry.

For me, it was proof that I can still speak the language of youth — and build for audiences that don’t care about cocktails or elegance, but care deeply about space, meaning, and community.

Grit Daily: You also opened a bar in Tel Aviv. What was that experience like?

Daniil Goldman: That was Chaseria — probably the most punk thing I’ve ever built. My wife and I moved to Israel right after the war in Ukraine started. I thought I’d live a calm life off my Moscow businesses. But between sanctions, frozen credit cards, and a collapsing ruble, that dream fell apart quickly. I was under the weather for a while until my therapist asked a simple question: What are you actually good at? I said: “Bars.” And that was it.

I called my friend Yasha in Tel Aviv and pitched the idea: a Russian-style shot bar (rumochnaya) but reinvented for Tel Aviv — cheap infusions, minimal snacks, and modular cocktails. Every house-made infusion could be served neat, as a sour, or as a highball — same base, infinite variations. It was bar fast food with soul. We called it Chaseria, after the Hebrew word for a 25ml shot.

We found a place on the city’s main pedestrian street, got some funding, and opened in January 2023. The opening was a hit. But we made one big mistake — the team and the vibe were fully Russian. Israelis didn’t feel at home. We never crossed over into the local market. And to be honest, I wasn’t at my best — I was dealing with personal issues, including substance abuse. I wasn’t fully present, and I missed many red flags.

By June, we had sold our shares. I didn’t lose money — made some on the way out — but I lost the bar. Let’s just say: I smelled that one away.

Grit Daily: Tell us about Dreidel, your most recent project in Tbilisi.

Daniil Goldman: Dreidel was born from chaos. We left Israel during the war, with our toddler in tow. We landed in Georgia. I was depressed, lost — until someone offered me a tiny bar space. I took it. I brought my longtime partner Annett from Moscow and poured my soul into it.

It’s a Jewish-Georgian fusion bar — hummus with tkemali, Tel Aviv spices mixed with Georgian ones. The décor includes a Shalom Koboshvili painting and the Hebrew dreidel inscription: “A great miracle happened here.”

Apparently, Jewish bars and jazz clubs are my thing.

Grit Daily: Why do you think these projects succeed?

Daniil Goldman: I don’t know if I can define “success.” But I avoid competition like the plague. I’m terrified of becoming average. That’s why I follow a blue ocean strategy — I try to build what doesn’t exist yet.

Every concept is radically different from what surrounds it. That uniqueness is both the rocket and the anchor. The more original your idea, the harder it is to explain — but once it resonates, it’s unforgettable.

Grit Daily: What lessons have you learned along the way, especially outside Russia?

Daniil Goldman: Doing business in exile is ten times harder. Funding, teams, ideas — everything is harder to manifest. But you keep going.

Also, you can’t fake hospitality. If you love hosting —genuinely love it — people feel that. That’s when the magic happens. I try to create small escapist miracles — a space where the real world fades, just for a moment. As a friend once said, a great cocktail is like an arthouse film. You’re still thinking about it the next day.

Grit Daily: What does entrepreneurship mean to you now, after everything?

Daniil Goldman: It’s a tightrope between creativity and responsibility. You can dream up anything, but one wrong step and the whole thing collapses. Entrepreneurship is mostly guessing in the dark. No matter how smart you think your idea is, you only know if it works once you risk your money, your time, and your pride.

It’s a rollercoaster. I’ve had more crashes than ascents. But I’m still here. Still building.

Grit Daily: How has your motivation changed in recent years?

Daniil Goldman: Two big shifts. First, I used to prioritize beauty and originality. Now I focus on profit, not because I’m greedy, but because I have a family to support. That’s maturity.

Second, I used to think escapism was only about spectacle — jazz, cocktails, immersive vibes. But now I’m working on a café for young parents, because I realized: escapism is also a quiet moment, a warm corner, a place where exhausted people can exhale.

I want to reshape the cities I live in — make them better for locals and visitors alike.

Grit Daily: How did fatherhood change your view of the industry?

Daniil Goldman: It changed everything. I hardly drink now. It’s hard to sell what you don’t consume. But more than that, becoming a dad opened my eyes to problems I never noticed before. Now I want to create spaces that reflect this phase of my life — not just for nightlife, but for real life.  I’ve been toying with the idea of a family-friendly café, where adults can unwind and kids have their own little world nearby. It’s still just a concept, but it feels like the natural next step.

Grit Daily: How does hospitality differ between Moscow, Tel Aviv, Tbilisi, and now, New York?

Daniil Goldman: Each city has its rhythm. Moscow is polished and fast-paced — there’s a strong focus on aesthetics and status. Tel Aviv is more chaotic, but also more alive — it’s less about how a place looks and more about how it makes you feel. Tbilisi has something really warm and unfiltered about it. It reminds me of how hospitality used to feel before everything became about brands and concepts — there’s still a lot of soul.

New York… I’m still figuring it out. I’ve been walking the city, observing how people interact with space, what they expect from a bar, how they unwind. It’s such a layered place. I don’t want to just copy-paste a concept — I want to build something that belongs here. Right now, I’m just listening. Watching. Letting the city speak first.

Grit Daily: What values guide your work now, and how do you see your next venture?

Daniil Goldman: I value 3 things in business: responsibility, impact, and creativity with structure.

Responsibility, not just to investors, but to my team and to our guests. Back in Russia, I was one of the first in the industry to make things official: paid time off, maternity leave, and contracts. Sounds basic, but in our space, most people still worked off the books. I couldn’t do it that way.

Social responsibility — I believe hospitality can shape cities. My places always aimed to be more than just bars: they made neighborhoods better, more alive — both for locals and for travelers.

Creativity — I’m not a corporate guy, but I’m also long past the phase of doing business on the fly. These days, I build with standards. With systems. With the long game in mind.

Grit Daily: What’s next? 

Daniil Goldman: I’m ready to move beyond nightlife. The global trend is obvious: people are drinking less, and honestly — it’s just not what excites me anymore. Fatherhood shifted something in me. I’ve been toying with a new concept: spaces for families. Maybe even a café for kids. A place where both parents and children feel welcome, seen, and inspired.

That’s where I see myself going, and what I’d love to build next, whether in the U.S. or Europe.