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The old school deli experience brings a taste of New York to the region, with bagels from the Bronx and their own roast beef made in-house.
John Park
Bagel sandwiches and other delectable options await on the menu at R.T. Smith's Deli.
One of the things I love about Roanoke is how it attracts non-southerners (aka Yankees) to it. What’s even better is when said non-southerners open restaurants in the tradition of their hometown cuisines.
In 2004, Keith and Karena Clinton moved to Roanoke from their native New York in hopes of raising a family and finding relief from the pressures of big city life. Keith says their decision to make Roanoke home is a long story involving retirement, the NYPD (Keith hails from a long line of New York civil servants), a travel brochure and a trip to Roanoke in 1992. His parents decided to retire to Smith Mountain Lake in 2000, paving the way for the Clintons to later follow suit.
Keith, a professional chef by training, says he recognized downtown Roanoke’s potential during that first visit in 1992. After years of working in a New York delicatessen, he says he’d always had it in the back of his mind to someday open one of his own.
“You know, when you’re a chef, you’re in the back,” says Keith, explaining his love of the deli experience. “In a deli, you’re out front with the customer. You have constant interaction with people. On a regular day, I can see everyone and say, ‘Hey, I know you,’ or, ‘I don’t know you, but, hey! I know you now!’”
In 2015, Keith’s back-of-the-mind dream became a reality. The couple bought R.T. Smith’s from fellow New Yorkers who’d opened it years earlier.
“It was nice,” says Karena, “they did all the leg work of building out the space. We just took it over.”
“Easy” is a relative term. The Clintons took over R.T. Smith’s only months after their third child was born. They also made several changes.
“The previous owners were from further out on [Long Island], in Suffolk County,” explains Karena. “It’s quieter out there, more reserved. Being from Queens and right across the border, we’re louder, more raucous. We’re more of what you would think of when you imagine a New York-style delicatessen.”
The Clintons also made food changes. They moved to an “old school” style deli-meat: no nitrates or fillers, as few ingredients as possible; cuts and styles of meat one would expect to find in any New York delicatessen. Their bagels come from a place in the Bronx; their pickles, from Long Island. Everything they can do in-house–including making their own roast beef–they do.
The result? One of Roanoke’s most welcoming, delightful and delicious eateries. The first time my husband and I walked into R.T. Smith’s, Keith waved ‘hello’ to us from behind the counter with such familiarity I stood there wondering where I’d met this man before. He waited patiently as we gawked over the menu, then ordered sandwiches we wanted tweaked to our liking (he later told me this is one of the many things he loves about deli life—getting to know a customer’s personal tastes).
Like most first-time diners to R.T. Smith’s, we opted for their safest sandwich offerings: The Northeast for me (on a cheese bagel rather than Kaiser roll), and Breakfast on Campbell for my husband. Both sandwiches were fantastic. They came out fast, hot and melted through with breakfast goodness. We were filled without feeling stuffed; warmed by the food, coffee and easy conversation with the Clintons and other patrons.
Since then, I’ve enjoyed their Western Omelet, crumb cake (oh-my-word, I love their crumb cake!) and plenty of hot coffee. I’ve also made R.T.’s my go-to source for deli meats (I have a special fondness for their smoked salmon), homemade soups and Friday take-out (they deliver to my husband’s office in Old Southeast).
The Clintons say their clientele cuts across all demographics, from presidents of law firms to the homeless, the latter of whom they offer hot coffee, warm soup and some shelter during the winter months.
“You can’t expect community support if you don’t support the community,” says Keith emphatically.
Oh, how fortunate we Roanokers are, when Yankees move to town.
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