New York Cork Report

Tasting The Season's Harvest: Peconic Bay Scallops & the Southold Fish Market

By Dave Seel, Long Island Food Correspondent

It was a mild grey New Year’s Eve when our car pulled into the dirt parking lot of the Southold Fish Market. Out past the fish market’s docks, the water of Southold Bay was calm and glassy as several gulls and a snowy egret flapped across the pristine surface.

We had come to sample a local seafood favorite harvested from those very waters: Peconic Bay Scallops. There are few places to get them as fresh as The Southold Fish Market.

Stepping into the small market, there were locals lined up to grab all kinds of seafood before the market closed for their January vacation. The market is short on frills. Inside, a small, carpeted hallway opens up to a large concrete floored workroom where the most recent “catch” is tossed on ice or in steel bins for sale.

I weaved my way around a worker shucking oysters and found Charlie Manwaring shelling shrimp just before he headed out on vacation. Charlie has worked in the fishing industry his whole life and took over the market in 2000. With both his father and grandfather still spending each day out on the water, fishing and seafood is in his blood. He prepares the market’s seafood from his family’s recipes and ever since it’s been a prime spot for a fresh, local seafood lunch.

You can check out this cooking video with him from the Port of Egypt “Open House.” 

Amidst the activity of cleaning, shelling, and shucking seafood, Charlie and I chatted about the current Peconic Bay Scallop season. “For us, the season is from the first weekend in November ‘till around March. I think we’ll have scallops all the way through this year. It’s a good year and there’s scallop all the way from Montauk to Flanders Bay (the western edge of the Peconic Bay)."

He continued to explain that due to recent regulations, limiting the size of scallop the fishermen can keep, the scallops are making a huge comeback. “As long as they’re breeding, it’s a good thing for all of us.” These new regulations along with the return of bay grasses have contributed to better harvests in the last few years.

Excited to try this year’s harvest, I let Charlie get back to shelling shrimp and was handed off to his sister to put in an order: a basket of fried Peconic bay scallops and fried local oysters.

Our food was ready after a short walk out on the docks. The breading was light and the surprisingly sweet, nutty, briny taste of the scallops washed over our palates. The oysters were small but packed a perfect salty and buttery flavor. Normally, fried food isn’t paired with anything fresh, but their cole slaw and choice of a side salad or thin cut French fries were all pleasant, fresh additions to the meal. As my wife put it- “There’s fried food, and then there’s this deliciousness.”

If you ever pick up a pound of Peconic Bay scallops for home, be sure to not overcook or over-flavor them -- little salt, lemon juice, and maybe a light breading is all that’s needed. 

But if you’re up for a drive or out on the North Fork, The Southold Fish Market is the perfect spot to taste the bay’s harvest on the water. Order a few baskets of oysters, scallops, and steamers and have a seat on a picnic table by the bay to appreciate the taste of fresh, local food plucked by folks who’ve fished these waters for generations.

 

A NYCR Photo Essay: On Butchering A Local Pig & Making Head Cheese

By Dave Seel, Long Island Food Correspondent.

Recently, I had the opportunity to get a pig-butchering lesson at Benner's Farm in Setauket, NY, an educational farm for kids and adults. Benner's Farm is a working farm and the slaughtering of a pig around November is an annual occurence. They don't sell meat to the public, so it is solely used by the family.

Because I'm is a self-proclaimed food dork and was intrigued with the whole process, I was lucky enough to come home with the pig's head and two pork chops after my lesson was complete. From there, I undertook a 9 and a half-hour cooking marathon to make what is commonly called head cheese, or (and it sounds better in French) Le Fromage de Tete. The following photo essay documents my up-close-and-personal farm-to-table experience. 

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING POST CONTAINS GRAPHIC IMAGES THAT MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR YOUNG READERS, VEGETARIANS, OR THOSE WHO WOULD RATHER NOT THINK ABOUT WHERE THEIR MEAT COMES FROM. 

Benner's Farm

Jean Benner & Her Rifle

 

Sports Bars: Long Island Ale House

By Donavan Hall, Long Island Beer Correspondent

A couple of weekends ago I got a text message from one of the guys in my soccer club. He and another coach had decided to head out to a bar for a couple of beers. "We're at Ugly Jacks," said the message. I texted back, "Grumpy Jacks, surely."

My phone had been off while I was in the movies so my soccer buddies blamed me for their lack of knowledge about where to go for a beer on a Friday night. "You guys need to get out more," I said. "Or at least get a copy of my beer guide."

Grumpy Jack's is a sports bar not far from the Port Jeff train station. I knew the place because my wife's family are football fans and when they visit on the holidays we seem to end up at Grumpy Jack's for an afternoon of football and beer. They have Blue Point Toasted and Long Ireland Celtic Ale, but the rest is BMC.

I didn't even have to ask. My soccer friends were nursing pints of Blue Moon -- the default brand for beer newbies who are trying to trade up but can't take the hops of American pales ales (let alone IPAs) or the roast and toast of the dark ales (like porters and stouts). "Why don't you drink Blue Point Toasted?" I asked. "Too bitter," they said. Really?

We stood around in Grumpy Jack's talking about our favorite sport, ignoring the fact that every screen in the place was beaming images of teams playing "American football."

I typically avoid sports bars unless I want to catch a game. Sports bars don't typically cater to the craft beer enthusiast. Even sports bars with 30+ taps seem to think 28 different brands of American Standard and Light Lager is the epitome of variety.

When I heard about the opening of the Long Island Ale House, a flicker of interest stirred inside me until I visited their website. "Oh, another multi-tap sports bar." I filed it away on the low-priority list.

On Sunday, I met with my business partners to take care of some issues concerning the operation of our brewery. During the meeting Mike mentioned that he'd been down to the Long Island Ale House. "They don't have anything on tap that I hadn't had before," he said. "The food's okay though."

Monday evening my plan was to visit C'est Cheese in Port Jeff for a third time in a month. This time I was going to get some photos and write them up proper for the New York Cork Report and my beer guide. (They promised that some of Mike Philbrick's Port Jeff Brew would be on tap by the time I returned -- a promise I expect them to keep.) But, then I remembered that C'est Cheese is closed on Mondays. I'd already roused the troops (wife and offspring) and they were ready to go out.

"There's the Long Island Ale House," I suggested. When my son confirmed that the Ale House served wings (what sports bar doesn't?) he started chanting "Ale House, Ale House!"

When we arrived at the address I immediately recognized the location. I'd been there before when it was Global Sports Cafe (owned by a Turkish family and supporters of Galatasaray, or maybe it was Besiktas) --- before the place had its Long Island Ale House make over. "This is where I used to come with Franz to watch the Arsenal matches," I said to Alice. Arsenal is Franz's passion. We had this international exchange going. He'd watch MetroStars matches with me and I'd watch Arsenal matches with him. It was an excellent excuse to drink beer.

The interior of the Long Island Ale House still had that new look and feel to it. "I can smell the fake leather," said Alice. It was nice and neat and clean. And mostly empty.

All the screens were tuned to ESPN in anticipation of the big Monday night game between the New York Giants and the New Orleans Saints. "Go Saints!" screamed Alice when she saw the screen. Everyone in the whole place turned to see what the excitement was. She and her whole family are Saints fans. Her uncle has had a set of four season tickets to the Saints games since the franchise began in 1967 when the team played at Tulane University's stadium. In fact, Alice's brother and his wife were in New Orleans that night in the Superdome waiting for kick-off. "I wish we could stay and watch the game," said Alice. I shrugged. "It's a school night," I said. "Beside we already know the Saints are going to kill the Giants." Alice nodded, resigned.

Our friendly server brought the beer list. I scanned the list for anything Belgian that Alice might like and was amused by the creative spelling of Gulden Draak, "Golden Dreak," it read. The server wanted to be helpful and tried to guide us through the palate of such esoteric offerings as Stella Artois, Palm, and Arrogant Bastard. Without transforming into a Beer Dick (well maybe just a small one), I assured the server that we were familiar with every beer on the list.

We ordered. Since I almost always order local, I went with the Great South Bay Sleigh Ryed, since I hadn't tasted that one yet. And Alice went with the Blue Point Double Blonde. The GSB Sleigh Ryed was disappointing as a starter. I was hoping for something drier and hoppier, but what I got was spiced and sweet. "It's a chick beer," I said to Alice as I offered her a sip. "Eww!" she said making a face. "I like mine better," she said. "At least yours tastes like beer," I said. "Light, quaffable."

"I want wings!" announced my son.

The food was merely okay. Decent pub fare for filling the gnawing void if you happen to be there for the game, but it's not the sort of cooking you'd go out of your way for.

"I see the intent," said Alice after reading through the menu. "They're are working the local angle. Local beers, local ingredients; but points off for execution." About a quarter of the beers were from local brewers, the big three: Blue Point, Long Ireland, and GSB. Some of the ingredients listed on the menu were from local farms (spinach, for example). But it seemed more like a gesture, rather than an operating principle.

My son was fascinated by the pre-game show on ESPN, mostly involving images of a Syracuse basketball coach. "I used to watch the Arsenal with Franz in that back room," I said getting into a nostalgic mood. "It's funny they only have the one channel. All these TVs and one channel. Is this the only game on?" Alice asked if there was any soccer on TV at the moment. "The only match I know about is Sophia versus Ludogorets in the Bulgarian league, but I doubt that's on TV here."

About halfway through the meal, our sever returned, this time with a Blue Point Rastfa Rye for me and a "Golden Dreak" for Alice. The Gulden Draak was even in the appropriate glass. My Rasta Rye was in a Bud-labeled shaker pint -- you can't have everything, I suppose.

When it was all over and we were headed back to the car, Alice asked, "Well? What did you think?"

"Not enough of the local stuff," I said. "I understand the pressures that these places face. If you're running a sports bar, you gotta cater to the sports bar tastes, or lack thereof. Craft beer bars, on the other hand, don't tend to have that many TVs. It's a different crowd."

Then Alice asked the all important question. "Would you want the Long Island Ale House carrying your beer on tap?"

"Speaking as a businessman or a craft beer lover?"

"Just answer the question," said Alice.

"I'll plead the fifth then."

C'est Cheese! Port Jefferson's New Beer Destination

By Donavan Hall, Long Island Beer Correspondent

A few months back, Alice and I were looking for someplace to go after taking in a movie at the Staller Center. “I wish there was some nice quiet place we could go, have a cheese plate, drink some beer, and relax,” she said.

“Let’s try Port Jeff,” I suggested. “It’s been awhile. And you’ve never been to Portside Grill.” Of course, I knew Portside Grill was never going to work on a Friday night. While they would certainly have craft beer on tap, they would be in short supply of quiet. Despite my doubts, I remained hopeful. They could be having a dead night.

We parked, shoved a few quarters into the parking meter, and headed up to the main street. “What’s that?” asked Alice pointing.

There, just a few doors down, past The Pie, was a new place: C’est Cheese (631-403-4944, 216B Main Street, Port Jefferson, NY 11777). “Looks like a cheese shop,” I said purposefully not commenting about the punny name.

“You want to try it out?” asked Alice.

“You think they have beer?” I asked. “Most cheese shops only have wine.”

“Only one way to find out,” she said.

When we saw Chimay on tap, we knew we had come home. And then we saw Dave standing behind the cheese counter. “Dave!”

“Donavan!”

Dave Conway-Lama is a fellow beer geek and homebrewer who I met at a Long Island Beer and Malt Enthusiast meeting a couple of years ago. The beer scene on Long Island being quite social meant that my path has crossed Dave’s many a time. Most recently, he had visited my brewery to see how slightly larger batches of beer are made.

That night was the first of many visits to C’est Cheese.

The Chimay Cinq Cent (white label) was great, but of the 8 taps the only local brew was the Brooklyner Weisse (which despite the suggestive name is, in fact, a hefeweizen). I said, “You guys have to get Port Jeff Brewing Company beer on tap in here.”

“We’re working on it,” said Dave. “We’d like to get the Porter.”

“Well, when you get it, I’ll put you guys in the guide.”

They made good on their promise, so I’m making good on mine. Which brings us to...

Last Thursday. Alice’s goal is to try every single one of the sandwiches at C’est Cheese. Our first sandwich was the Rueben. Hot, juicy, lots of flavor, a generous portion of cheese (as you’d expect). Last Thursday, we had the Roast Beef sandwich.

The Port Jeff Porter was indeed on tap. “I’ll have a glass of the Porter,” I said. You get these nice little round glasses at C’est Cheese. It’s different, a nice touch, and a definitely improvement over the (nearly) ubiquitous shaker pint. (No self-respecting beer bar should ever serve their beer in shaker pints. The worst is the “frosty” shaker pint.)

I left Alice in charge of the food selection -- salads and sandwhiches. And I focused on what might be a good cheese pairing to go with my Port Jeff Brewing Company Porter. Smoked Gouda seemed like cheating. No, I was in the mood for a blue cheese. I asked Dave about the Stilton in the back corner of the case. “I’m thinking an English cheese to go with my English-style beer,” I said.

“This Stilton is nice,” said Dave. He was pointing at a significant wedge of speckled, steel-blue cheese labeled “Colston Bassett.” Dave shaved off a slice and handed me a taste across the bar. “It from an artisan producer in England called Neil’s Yard Dairy.”

The Stilton was mild, but full-flavored -- a perfect partner for my Porter. “Bring it on!” I said.

My son picked out a Cantal, Cantalet Dore, a semi-firm cheese that reminded me of a cross between Swiss and (the French idea of) Cheddar. As it turned out the Cantal (served with grapes) was an excellent accompaniment to Sixpoint Bengali Tiger. I had to order a glass of that too just to see if my pairing instincts were right. And I’m not afraid of two fisting it when I’m working.

That’s part of the fun of going out and having a hundred different cheeses to choose from and a decent tap selection -- finding a cheese you like and then looking for the ideal beer pairing. The smart shop owner will provide a palate for the taster to ply their art. And the smart shop owner will staff their establishment with intelligent folks who can field any question.

My son asked Dave, “What does aging do a cheese?”

Dave: “How long do you have?”

The short answer is that aging dries out the cheese and concentrates the flavors. Ages cheeses are typically measured in months, but there are some like Gouda that are profitably aged for years. In fact, we ordered a wedge of 5 year Gouda to take home with us.

I’ve got three or four books on cheese (one volume devoted to just the varieties indigenous to France). For me, they are reference books. I consult them after a run to my local cheese shop. The stories I read about the cheese and its history help enhance my enjoyment of the cheese. Of course, I’ve not taken my study of the cheese to the same level as I have the study of beer, but I should. Just chatting with Dave about cheese impressed on me that there is as much to say about cheese as about beer -- so many varieties, so many flavors. And with the artisan food moment and relocalization of food production we’re seeing a dramatic growth in local artisan cheese production, with several producers here on Long Island.

Craft beer and cheese are no strangers. Every craft beer bar I’ve ever been to offers a cheese plate, typically the cheeses are artisan cheeses selected and purposefully paired with a specific beer. So it makes sense that a good cheese shop will offer equally good beer. The fact that C’est Cheese has eight taps pouring (mostly) craft beer gives me hope for the future good relations of cheese and beer.

Makinajian Poultry Farms: Three Generations of Organic Farming in Huntington, NY

By Dave Seel, Long Island Food Correspondent

“We’ve always been organic and never use pesticides. My grandfather was talking about it back in the 50s even before it was popular,” said Michael Makinajian as he gestured towards an article written about his grandfather, Joseph, in 1964 for the Suffolk Farming Times. “We’ve just always been committed to doing things naturally.”

Situated just south of Huntington, NY, Makinajian Poultry Farm is the definition of family farming and is one of few farms remaining this far west on Long Island. “When I was younger my grandfather would drive around and point out different properties. He’d say, ‘This was a lettuce farm, that was a potato farm,’ now, it’s all houses,” Michael reminisced.

I’d heard about the small farm from friends and from seeing it listed on several Long Island menus as a source for their vegetables and eggs. I’m always on the lookout for organic local food, and Makinajian Poultry Farms seemed like the perfect place to get it. 

On roughly four acres of land, the Makinajian family has been growing produce and raising chickens for almost 64 years. Joseph Makinajian, Michael’s grandfather, began farming the property in 1948 after emigrating from Armenia and living in Queens. “My grandfather just had farming in him. He had a victory garden and kept bees on his rooftop in Queens. My father still has his mail-order course on beekeeping from Cornell. It’s just what he liked to do,” Michael said.

To support the family farm, Joseph also worked as a projectionist in the city. “He’d feed the chickens and other animals, then hop on the train to work, then he’d come back and work on the farm again.”

Today, Michael and his sisters, Tina and Vicky, all have a hand in the farm. Michael and Tina are common faces on the farm and Vicky bakes all the farm’s certified organic breads, cookies and pies.

Just off Cuba Hill Road, their large white family house sits adjacent to the old garage, which has been converted into the farm’s store, a large parking lot, and a barn.

Chickens are found in nearly all the nooks and crannies of the property, but a large pen next to the parking lot holds most of them, along with several sheep and goats. Out behind the buildings, a large field, stretches to the back of the property, segregated into different plots for their vast harvest of produce..

The small store is stocked full of their own vegetables and herbs, as well as other organic goods and produce. “We fill in what we can’t provide for our customers. Some of our produce comes from far places like California, but we try to get as much as we can locally,” said Michael.

Along with their own produce, the store stocks local Jericho Apple Cider, local honey from Melville, and other goods from “upstate.” And then there are the chickens.

The Makinajians are known for their chickens and eggs, having sold poultry since the 1950s. Although they still harvest their  eggs from the property, they’ve outsourced the raising of the actual chickens to free range farms in the Hudson Valley. But they still roast the chickens on premise and as the holiday season begins, they even bring in a goose or two. Need some chicken livers for a local homemade paté? Look no further than Makinajian Farms. Their fridge takes me back to the classic Julia Childs chicken episode, “Miss Broiler, Miss Fryer, Miss Roaster.” They have them all.

All kinds of produce are also seasonally harvested from the Makinajian’s farm.  “Right now, we’re still harvesting beets, carrots, arugula, dandelion greens, peppers, collards, tomatillos, hot peppers, herbs…” and the list goes on — and that’s in November. All local and certified organic, if you ever eaten at any of Nino Antuzzi’s restaurants, such as Red or Sapsucker’s in Huntington, you’ve probably tasted the Makinajian’s produce. “We appreciate all of our customers, from local restaurants to the folks that we’ve grown up with. We’re really lucky to have such loyal customers.”

It’s clear that the local community appreciates them too. As I spoke with Michael in the store, many folks stopped by to pick up roasted chickens, produce, or the odd gallon of organic milk. Before I left, I too couldn’t help but grab a bunch of fresh dandelion greens, a jug of Jericho cider, and some frozen purple raspberries from the summer harvest.

Every year, Michael attends the annual New York Organic Farming Association (NOFA) Conference and connects with other organic farmers. “[Organic farming] is really growing out here, out east and in the city. There’s a bunch of people in the city creating rooftop farms and doing really cool things. These people are really smart, intelligent folks who really care about growing good food. They really inspire me.”

The Makinajians are just such people and their commitment to providing good organic food through three generations is inspiring to all of us. In a world dominated by large supermarkets and processed foods, it’s nice to know there are still small family run farms where you can say hi, talk about each other’s kids, and pick up a beautifully roasted chicken.

Readers Write: Introducing My Midwestern Parents to the North Fork of Long Island

By Tracy Weiss (@northforkd)

Last weekend, I attempted to show my persnickety midwestern parents the glory that is the North Fork of Long Island. But given their track record, I was a little nervous.

They find fault in every place they visit:

• New York City is busy, overpriced and filthy with too many people. (Exactly why other people love it!)
• Chicago is too windy. (Hence the nickname?)
• Florida, the whole state, is humid and everyone drives too slowly. (I’m with them on this one.)

As far as I am concerned, the North Fork is perfection. My first visit left me with impressions of Napa, the charm of the Cape, shoreline beauty rivaling Maine’s coast with some of that Outer Banks friendliness. But better. I had to live there. Wonderful adventures to be had that close to Manhattan seemed too good to be true.

But in my parents' critical eyes, how would the North Fork measure up? I offer a breakdown of their experience:

Shopping

Funny enough, Dad was incredibly impressed with the box stores in Riverhead. He expected our out-of-the-way home to be outfitted with discarded wine barrels (I wish), over-sized gourds for chairs with any other goods imported from New York City’s Bed Bath and Beyond. He was pleasantly surprised by the proximity of the chains. Mom went crazy at the idea of a Pottery Barn Outlet at Tanger. Her seat belt kept her restrained.

Preston’s in Greenport was a big hit with my father. A long-time fan of all things nautical, he poured over maps and considered adding to his Sperry Top-Sider collection. For a man without a boat, we wandered for quite some time as he explained the inner workings of a tide clocks.

Mom and I made for Material Objects in Jamesport. We strolled around the beautiful old barn and navigated through visitors to Sherwood House Vineyards. She loved the charmingly distressed wood pieces and upholstery, while I longed to make several lamps and glass items mine. I’m hoping she’ll return for a pair of candlesticks for my housewarming gift.

Mom, are you reading this?

Eating

Dining with my parents is not always easy. They are not adventurous eaters and shun anything out of their comfort zone. There are many rules one must follow:

• No meal can last longer than one hour.
• Chicken in some form must be available.
• There shall be no “weird” food.
• Must not be overpriced.

Therefore, our dinner at Luce & Hawkins never happened because mom feared it would break at least one of the rules. Too bad for them, but more bao dumplings for me.

Luckily, they are big fans of breakfast. Cutchogue Diner was the perfect place for them. Any meal served in a silver air stream straight out of the 1950s is four-star. Our friendly waitress put a coffee IV directly into my mother's veins while Dad ran around the restaurant reading up on the history of the place. They got their eggs exactly how they want them -- fast.

They were equally at home at Love Lane Kitchen. The breakfast sandwich was dismissed as a “delicious, but an East Coast invention”, however the pancakes -- blueberry and original -- were voted “the best ever.” Sadly, the special boards were updated with pumpkin pancakes as we finished. My pleas for another round were denied.

Dinner was at the Elbow Room -- our new family tradition. My mother loved the marinated steaks and portions large enough for breakfast leftovers. Dad made friends with the staff, especially after there were no judgments on his dinner order -- chicken fingers.

North Fork Table and Inn’s Lunch Truck started a near-riot as we fought over Claudia’s Chocolate Chip Cookies. You’d think we’d be more docile after a round of their delicious and filling sandwiches.

We took advantage of the seafood to go service at Braun’s. After a terrible incident (Mom’s mesquite swordfish experiment,) our family needs no longer fear the fish after sampling their grilled swordfish. One Woman Vineyards' 2010 Gruner Veltiner followed by McCall Wine's 2007 Reserve Pinot Noir (which paired surprisingly well with candy corn) complemented the meal.

More importantly, we purchased my father a Braun’s t-shirt. He’ll be teaching friends how to correctly pronounce Cutchogue for years to come.

 

Last Looks

Orient Point Lighthouse and the surrounding beach made a huge impact. My mother, an avid rock hoarder, found more treasures than she could physically carry. Dad and I watched the ferries come in and out of the sound with autumn wind on our faces.

Open container laws mean I should not confirm or deny that we shared a bottle of Shinn Estate Vineyard’s 2008 Wild Boar Doe. But if we did, all enjoyed the wine and the tongue-in-cheek name. A perfect North Fork moment.

All in all, they loved the open sky and farmland of the North Fork. The fresh air and locavore nature appealed to them, enough that I’ve convinced them to come back for next year’s Thanksgiving.

Mom and Dad said it all when they exclaimed, “It’s like you’d never know it was 90 miles from New York City." And for my parents, that’s the biggest compliment in the world.

Editor's Note: We want to hear from you. If you've got a New York wine country experience you want to tell us about, just send our executive editor, Lenn Thompson, an email.

Charolais Cattle Join the Vines at McCall Wines

By Dave Seel, Long Island Food Correspondent

Driving through Cutchogue on Rt. 25, you have to keep a keen look out for the sign at McCall Wines or you might miss it. The tasting room, an old potato barn, is nothing like the large structures of other wineries, but is a relic of what the land has been and what it is now.

Russ McCall, who spent summers on Long Island as a boy and is now a veteran of the wine industry, bought the property with The Peconic Bay Land Trust in 1996 to save Down’s Woods, Fort Corchaug and the farmland adjoining his family's property. His goal was simply to keep the land as it had always been, as farmland.

Over the years, McCall has planted 21 acres of the 100-acre property with pinot noir and merlot vines, and released his first vintage in 2007.

Alongside the rows of grapes are rolling pastures, planted with native wild grasses. Inspired by a New York Times article on the awful state of beef feedlots, as well as a way to benefit from the hay he was already cutting, McCall purchased 14 pregnant Charolais cows and has been growing his herd ever since. This cattle herd is the source for what is becoming some of the most prized beef on the East End, and is already gracing the tables of some of the region’s emerging farm-to-table restaurants.

This summer the first cow was butchered with great excitement from East End chefs and food lovers alike.

Adam Kopels of Shelter Island's 18 Bay Restaurant opted to take whatever he could get his hands on, which turned out to be the cow’s head. “We’re a nose-to-tail kind of restaurant,” he commented. “So we were psyched to make some beef tonque and braised beef cheeks from this great product,”  he said.

Charolais cattle are a muscular beef breed native to France and not as common as Angus and Shorthorn beef cattle. McCall picked the breed because it reminded him of his travels in France and his desire to bring something unique to the market.

Raised only on grass and hay from the same North Fork pasture, this cattle results in an incredibly special cut of meat.

According to sous chef Sarah Evans of North Fork Table “When people take the time to raise an animal in a better environment there is always a difference. The old saying, 'you are what you eat' is true for animals too.  And just as in wine, terrior has a large impact. This first cow was 100% pasture grass fed. Animals that come from different places that are fed off of that land have very different characteristics than those of another place and especially those of factory farms.”

The meat is almost venison-like -- lean, gamey, and as Evans describes, “the beefiest beef I’ve ever tasted.” She recommends cooking the beef in “luscious” fats, like duck fat, and no more than medium-rare to avoid making the meat tough. For those cooking McCall beef or any grass-fed beef, she instructs, “Give it a good ten minutes to rest after cooking so the juices can redistribute inside the meat not on your plate. During the resting time, the beef will continue to cook, so pull it off a little earlier than you think and it will come out perfectly. Always pair with freshly picked local produce and a fantastic North Fork wine. There is something to be said about the harmony of products all coming from the same terrior!”

Russ McCall recommends his 2007 Ben’s Blend: a Bordeaux blend of merlot, petit verdot, cabernet sauvignon and cabernet franc.

Currently, the beef is being sold at Love Lane Market in Mattituck and can be found on the menu of the North Fork Table and  Inn. Along with Love Lane Kitchen, the Market has become a beacon of the emerging local food scene on the North Fork. “We are trying to bring cooking and eating back to the way it was a hundred years ago. People should know where their food comes from,” said Siran Libretto, General Manager of the Market, “There is such a food revolution occurring with people wanting to eat and drink local, having McCall’s beef helps complete that circle.”

As Adam Kopels describes it, “There is a new consciousness in the way people eat. Chefs really can be the bridge between the producers and diners. We can tell people, ‘Hey, this is just from ten minutes down the street. Go get some for yourself and try it at home!’”

This communal mentality is really what is driving the food scene on the North Fork. People want to support one another because they know they share a common place. They appreciate the interconnection of the land, the food that is grown from it, and the sustainable methods used to do so.

From time to time, McCall still reminisces about his boyhood days when he would catch fish, eel, and crabs in local creeks and would grab some produce from his neighbor’s farm. “We ate what was there…what was in season.”

His cattle and wine are a part of a broadening movement to return to this local appreciation of food. Not only does it lessen our carbon footprint and stimulate our local economies, but it also connects us with each other and the land. It allows us to be a part of the lives of those that are inextricably tide to us, the community of people and organisms that sustain us.