Sandwich Bliss: Monk's Kitchen

Whenever I visit family in Beaufort, South Carolina, I head first to a little sandwich shop that's part of a tiny southern regional chain called, "Alvin Ord's."

The first Alvin Ord's opened in Texas in 1972, named for the founder who ultimately left the business to his nephews to become a Trappist Monk. Ord's sandwiches offered a distinctively airy, fresh-baked, round loaf of bread that would become the restaurant's signature component to an excellent sandwich.

Thanks to Twitter, I discovered that, somehow, some way, a restaurant here in Cincinnati has been doling out these very same sandwiches for years under the name, "Monk's Kitchen." They even use the same logo as Alvin Ord's, which depicts a monk proudly thrusting a platter of sandwiches high into the air, aglow with golden, heavenly light.

Monk's Kitchen

Located in Harrison, Monk's Kitchen definitely isn't much to look at. It is the quintessential hole-in-the-wall. The small building sits across from a Marathon gas station right off I-74, and also peddles Angilo's pizza items on its gargantuan menu. But the place was rather bustling when we stepped inside, a young crew deftly scurrying to prepare lunch orders.

The Monk's side of the menu was already quite familiar to me. It's almost exactly the same as the Alvin Ord's menu in Beaufort, South Carolina. It even featured a sandwich called the "Beaufort Philly." Sandwiches on the menu are similar to those you'd find at a deli or double-decker shop: there's the turkey club, Reuben, Rachel, roast beef, ham, pastrami and even a fried bologna variant.

Signature sandwiches include "The Salvation," with cheddar cheese, mozzarella and Parmesan, topped with ham, salami, "spiced luncheon meat," lettuce, tomatoes, onion and mustard. The round breads come in three sizes with a choice of white or whole wheat.

I chose a medium whole-wheat Reuben ($7.99), with pastrami, sauerkraut, melted Swiss, mozzarella, Parmesan, cheddar and thousand island dressing. My girlfriend opted for a medium turkey club ($7.99), with heaps of turkey and bacon, three cheeses, lettuce, tomatoes, onions and a side of mayo.

As we awaited our orders in the small dining room, I sat dubious that these sandwiches could possibly live up to my expectations, that Monk's bread would be as toasty and airy and slightly sweet and delicious as the bread we enjoyed in South Carolina. But when it arrived at our table, I would soon learn that indeed it was the same, or close enough that I couldn't tell the difference.

Reuben

Turkey Club

Reuben!

The medium sized bread was actually larger than I remembered, roughly 6 or 7 inches in diameter with a layer of toasty, melted cheddar cheese seeped into the bottom slice's airy nooks. There's something about the round shape that seems to lend itself to a seemingly more even distribution of ingredients: every bite yielded the same ratio of sauerkraut, pastrami and thousand island dressing. Both Monk's Kitchen and Alvin Ord's Reubens are among my favorite sandwiches of all time.

My girlfriend was equally impressed with her turkey club. She's not a mayo fan, and only chose a side of it in the event that the sandwich proved too dry. Not so. She never used a single dollop.

Monk's Kitchen is one of those hole-in-the-wall gems we yearn to find. Their toasty round bread is their hallmark and an enduring secret to a delicious, hearty, tasty sandwich.