by Florence Fabricant, NY Times
Patrick Martins summed it up in a single slab: pork belly. “That’s the cut that people ask for the most,” he said. “Evidently they can’t find it in their supermarkets.”
No, they cannot. And that is just one reason why Mr. Martins opened a real butcher shop on the Lower East Side last month.
He’s not the only one. Butcher shops, once a vestige, are opening in many New York neighborhoods where buying meat has often been reduced to staring down a sea of plastic-wrapped foam trays. These new stores offer much more. To make the most of them, though, a basic understanding of the butcher’s craft is essential.
Buying some pork or most other meats is not as simple or as cheap as picking out an apple. Do not tweet your friends for advice; consult the butcher.
“Here, you can have a conversation with a human being, and I can tell you that every transaction is different,” said Brent Young, one of the butchers at the Meat Hook in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. This no-frills workroom in the shadowy rumble of the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway goes a long way to dispel the notion that a dedicated butcher shop is an elitist venue for those times you want a prime T-bone to impress the in-laws.
How you plan to cook the meat determines the cut. And the quantity for a serving will be based how it will be trimmed, and what else you are serving. If the meat you think you want is not available or too expensive, the butcher can offer alternatives.
“We can offer cuts you never see in a supermarket,” Mr. Young said. “Cheap cuts. Customers on a budget come in asking for ideas, they want other options.” To make the most of the animals, the Meat Hook’s butchers went to France for two weeks last spring to learn how butchering is done there, and discovered little portions of succulence that could be ferreted out of parts of a steer, like the merlot steak and the oyster steak. (Remember that it was the French who popularized the hanger steak, which now is sometimes sold in better supermarkets.)
For those whose appetites stray beyond steak, a culinary adventure in the way of oxtails, marrow bones, kidneys, pig’s ears and trotters starts with the butcher, usually after a phone call in advance. You also need a butcher for some less exotic items like brisket that is fattier and juicier than the more easily found lean first cut.
“Our restaurant features nose-to-tail dining so we break down whole animals,” said Christian Pappanicholas, an owner of Cannibal, the new butcher attached to Resto, a meat-centric restaurant in Murray Hill, in Manhattan. “And if a customer wants to buy certain cuts they’ve had here to cook at home, like lamb neck, we can sell it.”
It’s a major turnaround in the way meat has been bought and sold. Some 40 or so years ago, beef was shipped to New York’s meatpacking district in the form of whole carcasses, or “rail beef.” Then the big Midwestern packing houses started shipping what was called “boxed beef,” primal cuts packed in Cryovac. Now, butchers like those at Cannibal are carving whole animals again, and not just for beef.
Read more:
Photo: Andrew Scrivani for The New York Times
Know your cuts:
No, they cannot. And that is just one reason why Mr. Martins opened a real butcher shop on the Lower East Side last month.
He’s not the only one. Butcher shops, once a vestige, are opening in many New York neighborhoods where buying meat has often been reduced to staring down a sea of plastic-wrapped foam trays. These new stores offer much more. To make the most of them, though, a basic understanding of the butcher’s craft is essential.
Buying some pork or most other meats is not as simple or as cheap as picking out an apple. Do not tweet your friends for advice; consult the butcher.
“Here, you can have a conversation with a human being, and I can tell you that every transaction is different,” said Brent Young, one of the butchers at the Meat Hook in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. This no-frills workroom in the shadowy rumble of the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway goes a long way to dispel the notion that a dedicated butcher shop is an elitist venue for those times you want a prime T-bone to impress the in-laws.
How you plan to cook the meat determines the cut. And the quantity for a serving will be based how it will be trimmed, and what else you are serving. If the meat you think you want is not available or too expensive, the butcher can offer alternatives.
“We can offer cuts you never see in a supermarket,” Mr. Young said. “Cheap cuts. Customers on a budget come in asking for ideas, they want other options.” To make the most of the animals, the Meat Hook’s butchers went to France for two weeks last spring to learn how butchering is done there, and discovered little portions of succulence that could be ferreted out of parts of a steer, like the merlot steak and the oyster steak. (Remember that it was the French who popularized the hanger steak, which now is sometimes sold in better supermarkets.)
For those whose appetites stray beyond steak, a culinary adventure in the way of oxtails, marrow bones, kidneys, pig’s ears and trotters starts with the butcher, usually after a phone call in advance. You also need a butcher for some less exotic items like brisket that is fattier and juicier than the more easily found lean first cut.
“Our restaurant features nose-to-tail dining so we break down whole animals,” said Christian Pappanicholas, an owner of Cannibal, the new butcher attached to Resto, a meat-centric restaurant in Murray Hill, in Manhattan. “And if a customer wants to buy certain cuts they’ve had here to cook at home, like lamb neck, we can sell it.”
It’s a major turnaround in the way meat has been bought and sold. Some 40 or so years ago, beef was shipped to New York’s meatpacking district in the form of whole carcasses, or “rail beef.” Then the big Midwestern packing houses started shipping what was called “boxed beef,” primal cuts packed in Cryovac. Now, butchers like those at Cannibal are carving whole animals again, and not just for beef.
Read more:
Photo: Andrew Scrivani for The New York Times
Know your cuts:
