Born and bread here

There’s a kind of witchcraft which happens in our kitchen. While our spells don’t start smoke, they do begin with a 100-year-old sourdough starter—since WW1 actually, but very much still alive. We’re always elbows-deep in dough that’s older than any of us, yet somehow feels more lively than maybe anyone.

After our sourdough focaccia has rested, and risen, it hits the oven until baked golden-brown outside, bouncy and chewy inside, a texture that stops you mid-bite and you smile at how something so simple can taste so surprising.

Every loaf is mixed, shaped, and baked in-house, by hand, every single day. Only good ingredients, and good people who massage the mixture into moulds. And each sandwich is prepared right when you want it—because bread this fresh deserves fillings equally so.

We know the world doesn’t necessarily need another sandwich shop. But maybe it could use one that treats the process with a little more love. Starting with a century-old starter passed down baker to baker, fed forward generation after generation, finally ending up here in your hands—warm, and with that signature sourdough tang.

We don’t do fast food, although we do try to be quick. We make meals we hope are worth waiting for, slowing down for, amidst the hustle and bustle of the world today. A sandwich shouldn’t be an afterthought; and it should be more than a mere moment of a busy day.

After all, life feels more complete when your food is crafted with care, and served to order.