Savoury, built to be eaten in a meeting

The savoury tray is small sandwiches, cut so they can be eaten over a notebook without a plate. Cheese and tomato, egg salad, cucumber with white cheese, roasted pepper and herbs. The bread is a soft roll from the same morning’s bake. There is no meat on it, and there is no tuna. This is a dairy kitchen’s coffee break, not a lunch buffet and not a finger-food reception.

The cold board

We plate from above the tray, on the cold side of the pass, after the bread has cooled enough that the cheese does not melt into the crumb on the ride. Egg salad is bound with a little mayonnaise and finished with herbs. The tomato is salted at the last minute so the bread survives until 09:00. Cucumber is cut thick enough to taste like cucumber. The pepper is roasted in the kitchen, not poured from a tin with a label we would have to explain. Everything on the standard tray can sit next to a milky coffee without an argument about the menu.

We left tuna off the board on purpose. A fish sandwich in the same crate as cheese is a problem for offices that keep a dairy table, and we are not a kosher-certified kitchen that can solve that with a stamp. If you need a certificate, the kitchen page says so in one sentence: we do not have one. The savoury tray is cheese, egg, vegetables and bread. Ask us to leave the egg off, or the cheese off, in the dietary note, the day before. We can split one tray into two smaller piles, egg on one and cheese on the other, when the headcount justifies it. We cannot invent a second kitchen on the morning of the drop.

Sizes and prices

Count a sandwich tray the way you count a meeting, not the way you count lunch. Eight covers a client sitting and two or three of your own people. Fifteen is a team. Thirty is a half-day workshop, and it arrives as two trays. Prices include VAT at 18%. They are in line with a light savoury break in Tel Aviv in 2026, where a meeting tray at the simpler kitchens runs in the forties of shekels a person and a full hosted menu at a dairy caterer runs closer to ₪90–₪110 before you have even asked for coffee.

What we will send hot, and when we will not

From November through April we will add a hot tin if you ask for it on the first van, the 08:00–09:15 window, and not on the second. The tin holds cheese bourekas and a pepper and cheese quiche in small squares. It leaves Holon closed, and it is still warm when a dock that is ten minutes from the suite gets it upstairs promptly. It is dairy. Sesame is on the bourekas. Write that down if sesame is a problem, and we will leave the bourekas off and send only the quiche, if the order is in the day before.

From May through October we do not send that tin. This is the part offices argue with, and it is not a mood. A hot cheese pastry that sits on a loading dock, then in a Shabbat elevator that stops at every floor, then on a sideboard while people find the right meeting room, is no longer hot and not yet cold. Egg and dairy in that middle range are the food we refuse to deliver in a heat wave. The sandwiches are the safer tray. They are built cold, travelled cold, and eaten cold. The urn is the hot item. If a host asks for “something warm” in August, tell them the coffee is warm and the food is meant to be cool. The order form will not add the hot tin to a date in those months. If you write it into WhatsApp anyway, the kitchen’s reply will take it off.

Gluten, egg and milk are in the standard savoury tray. Nuts are in the kitchen because of the sweet bake, even when they are not in the sandwich. Say the allergy in the order. Delivery, docks and Friday’s shorter map are on the offices page. The request itself is on the order page, and it is confirmed only when we reply.