Monk’s Restaurant Caters to the Fortunate to Feed Needy Children : Religion: Benedictine brother serves up haute cuisine in New Haven, Conn. But it’s youngsters relying on his soup kitchen who are the important customers.

Wearing a woolen robe, a bearded Benedictine monk scurries about a steamy kitchen, making sure the bread rises evenly, the sauce is thick and the beef Burgundy gets the right amount of thyme.

Brother Denys Cormier is cooking for the fortunate to feed the poor.

At the Wandering Monk’s Guild and Bakery, his customers rely on him for such delights as marinated chicken and pork chops, roasted and seasoned potatoes, fresh cucumber salad and rich truffles.

But those who truly depend on him are not here: the 1,130 children in the city’s ghettos who receive food shipped daily from the monk’s soup kitchen across the street from the restaurant.

“I needed to make money because funds are so low. It’s pretty amazing: People don’t believe children are really hungry in America,” Cormier said.

But there is no bill for the gourmet fare. The roughly 120 patrons who crowd inside each day find a small wicker bowl set on each table. A tiny sign asks for a minimum $5 donation. On a recent day, the bowl overflowed with $20 bills.

That money flows across the street to a soup kitchen that provides sandwiches, fruits, juices and snacks to needy children, Cormier said.

The youngsters never go to the soup kitchen. It comes to them, delivered to schools and local social service agencies.

“We didn’t want kids to learn that a soup kitchen is a way of life, and we’re trying to develop the family nucleus sitting down and eating together,” Cormier said.

New Haven resident Sandra Metcalfe says she frequents the restaurant because of the food--and the cause.

“The kids that he’s helping are in our city. I see them as my responsibility, and a lot of us don’t know how to help. Brother Denys is providing us with a way to do that,” she said.

The calm mood and simple decor fit with the brothers’ mission.

No alcohol is served and furnishings are Spartan. The long, wooden tables might be found in a monastery. Gregorian chants play in the background.

Cormier likes to stick with the theme: He sometimes serves monkfish or hermit cookies.

Cormier and his staff of six, most of them volunteers, serve a continental breakfast of coffee, breads, jams and pastries. At lunchtime, customers help themselves to a bountiful, all-you-can-eat feast. At night, the staff caters to private parties and business meetings.

And as people leisurely chat at the sidewalk tables, shaded from the midday sun by oversized, forest-green umbrellas, across the street a white van pulls out of the driveway of the soup kitchen.

Jackie Buster didn’t realize the restaurant and the soup kitchen were related the first time she came in.

“I just was walking by and wanted to see what they had to eat,” she said. “It made it kind of better when I found out what was going on.”

The Wandering Monk was the original site of the soup kitchen. But with the restaurant’s opening, Cormier’s Emmaus Community of St. Benedict moved the kitchen across the street.

The idea of a monk opening a restaurant is not new. Cormier says it’s common for monks in Europe to have restaurants to support monasteries. The difference is that here the money is going to the children.

The menu varies depending on Cormier’s middle-of-the-night inspirations, but he usually sticks to a combination of French and northern Italian cuisine.

“I never went to culinary school, but I’m gifted with insomnia, so I read cookbooks at night. I just get ideas and create,” he said.