I’ve always found behind-the-lines spy stories to be some of the most harrowing.
You’re embedded with the enemy. If discovered, you’ll likely be either killed or imprisoned for a long time. All you have are your wits. Your ability to speak their language, without an American accent, is how you blend in and get access to sensitive state secrets. That’s why in 1954, while the cold war was positively frigid, the Department of Defense (DoD) started the Defense Language Institute Foreign Language Center (DLIFLC) down in beautiful Monterey, CA.
Today, the DLIFLC is one of the finest foreign language schools in the world. Its 1,900 instructors teach 2,500-3,500 active-duty service members from the Army, Marines, Navy, Airforce, Coast Guard, as well as reserved forces, and basically every other part of the Department of Defense. Providing both linguistic and cultural instruction, courses are taught for seven hours a day, five days a week and each day has between two and three hours of homework. It’s an intense 36–64-week program (depending on the difficultly of the language) that doesn’t allow much time for much else.
But students (and the 1,900 instructors) do find time to eat lunch.
Lucky for them, Compagno's Market & Delicatessen is directly across the street from this world-renowned center of learning. I’ve talked about Italian delicatessens and Jewish delicatessens and butcher shop delicatessens. But this might be the first military-style delicatessen I’ve ever heard of. Compagno’s has embraced this symbiotic relationship wholeheartedly.
The whole Compagno’s experience starts just outside the front door. A sign tells you to jot down your sandwich order on a short form before entering. Once inside, order in hand, you’re immediately struck by the hundreds of pieces of military-themed t-shirts, drill sargent hats, unit flags, and nameplates (of officers who served at DLI). There are also the two pieces of the tail rotor of a helicopter, airplane models hanging from the ceiling, and a slew of G.I. Joe dolls. I spotted an autographed picture of M*A*S*H*’s Radar O’Reilly (Gary Burgoff)) with an inscription thanking Bennett for taking such good care of his son Jordan who apparently studied at the DLI.
It’s everywhere and, apparently, they’re all gifts from the servicemembers who’ve frequented the place over the years - a group that makes up 80% of the clientele. It’s a shrine to the military.
The menu follows suit.
The first and most important thing you should know about Compagno’s is that they offer THE BIGGEST FUCKING SANDWICH ON THE PLANET. Seriously. Like America’s military, their sandwiches are both admired and feared. Gastronomically speaking, it’s as much a stunt as it is a sandwich. If you wanted to murder your hunger, you would eat this. These sandwiches would give a pro football player pause and bring competitive eaters to their knees. Instead of waterboarding, the CIA should force terrorists to eat two of these sandwiches.
The sandwich specials are all named for branches of the military, naturally. I got the Air Force Special, which was positively scrumptious right up until I wanted to puke from overeating. Turkey, cranberry, lettuce, pickles, banana peppers and the headliner: a nice thick hunk of Philly cream cheese. The cream cheese really made the sandwich. The banana peppers added nice acidic overtones while the cranberry provided some subtle sweetness. I ate half. Well, okay, a little more than half.
The other sandwich names follow a predictable pattern. The Navy Special, the Special Forces Special, the Marines Special, The Navy SEAL special, etc. Interestingly, some of the chicken sandwich specials are made with buffalo sauce. Nice touch. And to be fair to Bennett, they do offer a half-sandwich that one normal human could theoretically finish. Provided they are very very hungry. This is Bennett, the current owner, on the right.
If you’ve been reading this newsletter for a while, you’ve probably noticed a common thread with delicatessens: they often wind up being family businesses. Born and raised in Monterey, Bennett Compagno is part of a large extended family and his father bought this place back in 1966. Bennett grew sweeping the floors and eating the food. When his father passed in ‘97, he took over the place. And from the look of the inside, Bennett hasn’t changed a thing (or dusted) since. The website is a “coming soon” landing page that’s probably been there for eons.
Bennett’s a super nice guy. I asked him if he likes running a delicatessen. He started by saying that it, “…used to be fun.” I think maybe he’s tired and looking forward to selling (just a couple more years, he says). I asked him if he served in the military and he said that, no, he hadn’t.
Aside from the “seen-from-space” sized sandwiches, Compagno’s is also famous for their delicious and sometimes gooey cakes. I bought a giant slice of Oreo cake that (my wife) Kerri and (son) Luka loved. People on Yelp also rave about their red velvet cake and double fudge Reese’s cake. Here’s that Reese’s cake.
Ridiculous.