Daily Bread

"Give us today our daily bread," is an old prayer that has now been answered. Meet Point Chevalier's latest haunt and the café that will most certainly bring anyone to their knees: Daily Bread.

Punch the address into Google Maps or alternatively follow your nose (or a star for the wise men). From Point Chev locals to people from the provinces, it's an open invitation. The tantalising smell of fresh bread is enough to lure anyone into the newly refurbished bank building, refreshed in white to create an airy, open-plan kitchen. Step into the bakehouse and surrender yourself to the experience. Watch while pastry chefs pinch fine sections of dough, witness wait staff duck and weave with fresh doughnuts in hand, and take a minute to lustfully stare at the wide array of treats in the cabinet. If you find yourself with the overwhelming desire to shovel multiple glutinous items into your mouth at once, quite frankly, you won't be blamed.

The heroes who gave us Orphans Kitchen have instilled the same ethos into the soul of Daily Bread, pushing ethical standards beyond their walls to the supply chain. Alongside the café's loaves, Leigh Fisheries are working to deliver their fish in boxes that can be composted out the back of Daily Bread. This is in plain view for the bees housed on the roof, which pollenate the neighborhood and provide honey for customers — a plague for the community to enjoy.

Whether you're having a great day or a grey day, there is plenty of food to nourish your soul. From chocolate chips buns to bolognese pies ($7.50) and bread, bread and more delicious bread (kumara sourdough, rye, spelt, fermented oat, or seeded loaf to name a few) it's certainly feast, not famine.

The menu serves as a delectable equal to the comprehensive cabinet. It even offers a DIY sandwich option, so like Noah did with the ark, you too can build something that might just save your life. Choose from a selection of bread, meat, vege, spread and cheese and if you need a little help deciding, just ask. The waitstaff are friendly and helpful without being smug (even though they have every reason to be). Top your experience off with an apricot lemon verbena danish ($5) and feast as if it were the last supper.