Majestic By Design
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Gastown. Rain-slick streets, brick and iron bones, ghosts of longshoremen and loggers still echoing between the bars and boutiques. We were hungry—the kind of hunger that makes you suspicious, sharp-eyed, almost primal. And then we saw it. Meat & Bread. No frills. No lies. Just truth, on a breadboard and attitude.
A ciabatta roll—deceptively modest—split open to reveal roast pork so tender it should be illegal. A slab of crackling that didn’t just crunch—it detonated. And salsa verde, bright and bold, like a punch in the face from someone you respect. The mustard? A sidekick with a knife tucked in his boot.
This isn’t some overhyped foodie temple. It’s a sandwich shop. But walk in hungry, walk out changed. You came looking for lunch. You leave a believer.