Kevin A. Roberts
Editor's note: This article appears in the June 2021 issue of St. Louis Magazine. Bolyard's Meat & Provisions opens in its new location on May 14.
In a year when consumers shifted to support more local businesses, Bolyard’s Meat & Provisions, the city’s only whole-animal butcher shop, outgrew its confines. Pre-pandemic, Chris and Abbie Bolyard thought the restaurant across the street (the former Dubliner at 2733 Sutton) was too large for a Bolyard’s expansion, but there was inside dining, a coveted component that helped seal the couple’s decision to move the business this spring.
Courtesy Bolyard's
The new space has seating for 40, plus room for more cold cases, stocked with housemade items like tomato sauce, pimiento cheese, beer mustard, bone broths, and demi-glace, which takes days to make and freezes well.
Was your family involved in the restaurant business? When my mom worked at American Roadhouse in St. Charles—a burgers, fries, and classic cars place that played ’50s and ’60s music—she got me a job as a busboy, and I had a blast. When I found out there were actually places to learn the business professionally, I enrolled in the CIA [Culinary Institute of America] right out of high school.
Where did you go from there? My first real job in St. Louis was working at Cardwell’s, where I worked for three and half years. Bill Cardwell treated people how they needed to be treated in order to perform. The people who needed to be ridden hard, he would ride hard. I was always the respectful guy who tried to stay in line.
What did you learn from him? Extreme levels of cleanliness and consistency. Super-high standards. The value of having proper mise en place.
You worked at Sidney Street for 10 years, which is a lifetime for a young chef. How did it all start? When Kevin Nashan bought Sidney Street, he wanted a slow evolution, and I was part of that. We started by making more things from scratch. Eventually, we got in a whole hog and, quite frankly, knew little about how to process it. So we called on our chef friends, guys like Andy White and Josh Galliano, and never looked back. Mike Sullivan, chef at Blackberry Farm, was like the Yoda of charcuterie. He helped teach us about that.
What did you learn from Nashan while working at Sidney Street? He’s an extremely competitive person but also welcomes every other chef in the community. When a noted chef came here to do a charcuterie seminar for Sidney Street, Kevin invited the local chef heavy hitters to attend. He wanted to share this information with them rather than keep it a secret. It was a typical “a rising tide lifts all boats’’ Kevin Nashan moment. From that, we developed our own charcuterie program and others did, too. Kevin is intense, has the best work ethic of anyone I’ve ever met, and is never complacent. He strives for perfection or to at least make everything better. All that rubbed off on me.
How much freedom did you have at Sidney Street? Almost absolute. Kevin had a “do whatever you want’’ trust in me. We were getting in whole hogs, so it was like, “Head cheese? Sure. House pancetta? Why not?” I was able to help advance Sidney Street, and I fell in love with the whole-butchery process while doing it.
Nashan cooks at restaurants and events all over the country. Did you go with him? Sometimes. Kevin is a true chef ambassador for the city. I got to hang out with and pick the brains of some of the top chefs in the country when we went to them or they came to see us.
When did you decide to open a butcher shop? At one point, Christy Augustin—the pastry chef who worked with me at Sidney before opening Pint Sized Bakery—she and I talked about doing a “butcher and a baker” concept, but it never came together. When I met Abbie, who also had extensive restaurant experience working for Gerard Craft, we dreamed of opening up a place of our own, but somehow the direction changed to a whole-animal butcher shop.
Are there any other butcher shops in town that source whole animals? We’re the only one, I believe.
So is it possible to use the whole animal? Pretty much. With beef, we’re not allowed to get the head or the hooves. We get the tongue, liver, cheeks, tail, the hanger… But fat and bone make up, like, a third of the animal, a lot of which had to be sold, given away, or composted. In the colder months, there’s a market for bone broths, but in the warmer months we have to give bones away. Beef fat is soft, so it’s not great for making sausage, but it’s good to cook with—after it gets rendered and clarified—or used for soaps and candle-making. The new place will have more outlets for all of that. We’ll have pork rinds and lard biscuits on the menu, and all the beef fat will be used for frying, which yields a better return than having to sell or compost.
How many kinds of animals are delivered each week? Beef, pigs, chicken, lambs, rabbits—no ducks. Haven’t found a source for those that’s affordable.
Are there problems with sourcing since the pandemic? Only with beef. The slots for slaughters are now booked up a year and a half in advance, so I’m forced to predict what my weekly demand will be then, for which I have no clue. I’m forced to take a guess and hope for the best.
Are people still concerned where their meat comes from? Yes, and the pandemic has exacerbated that. The younger generation for sure thinks about buying responsibly. With the pandemic and the outbreaks of the coronavirus in the processing facilities, that link in the chain got removed and exposed that side of things. It forced everyone to examine where they were buying their meat.
What’s in Bolyard’s display case versus other butcher shops or grocery store cases? In a word, variety. But being a small place with minimal staff, we had to work up to having an assortment of charcuterie, deli meats, smoked meats, dozens of varieties of sausage, and cuts you don’t see in other places.
Why is that? We have the luxury of getting the entire animal and are knowledgeable about every part…cuts that can eaten as a steak, for example, that most people have never even heard of.
What are examples of alternate cuts? Flank steak is very popular, but there are only two on a beef. We get two beefs a week, so the flanks sell out quickly. Toro steak, which is used as part of the beef bacon, is also a flat cut but larger, and the flavor is super rich and buttery. It’s heavily marbled, and you cook it and cut it the same way as flank. I’d never heard about that steak until I saw another butcher doing it, so I know it’s new to most customers.
How do you gauge the sophistication of a Bolyard’s customer? We start the hospitality process by greeting every customer who walks through the door. We play detective and start asking questions and let the conversation proceed organically. Some come in knowing exactly what they want. Others want our help and guidance: How many people are you feeding? Are they conservative or adventurous eaters? How much time do you have? Eventually, we come up with an order.
How did Bolyard’s business model change during the pandemic? Before, we would do a lot of cutting to order, so there wasn’t a lot in the case. During the pandemic, they began buying for multiple meals, and we realized the more they can see, the more they’ll buy, so we began filling the case with fresh cuts. Before, people would see Denver steak on the menu, not know what it was, and move on. Now, they see a stack of them, ask a few questions, and end up buying them. That simple switch was a game-changer.
How has the “provisions” part of the business changed over time? We made three bone broths from the start, which people drink for their health benefits. We have five ceramic fermenting crocks that we try to keep full with vegetables and pickles at all times. We have staples in the case like our own Worcestershire and tomato sauce, our own dried pasta, and pimiento cheese, beer mustard, and demi-glace, which takes days to make and freezes well. We try to have several soups that rotate: posole, French onion, gumbo, a beef vegetable stew… If people see an item on the website, they can always ask for it, we’ll make it, and notify them when it’s available. Sometimes all we need is a push.
“I LIKE TO SAY THAT WE’RE NOT CHANGING WHO WE ARE; WE’RE GIVING OURSELVES A FACE-LIFT.”
How did Bolyard’s sandwiches evolve? After a lot of experimentation, we ended up with seven that you can’t find anywhere else. They’ll be the backbone of the restaurant menu at the new place. Biscuits have gone over really well, so biscuits and gravy will anchor the weekend brunch menu, along with a breakfast-y sandwich, quiche, and a hash bowl.
What else is on the new menu? Burgers, for sure, made with dry-aged beef. The base burger is two 3-ounce patties griddled and smashed on a brioche bun toasted in beef fat. It took us six months to dial in all the components. We buy our fries—because I can’t scratch-make a better one—and then fry them in tallow, like McDonald’s used to do.
Any menu items that you’re especially proud of? No one in town makes the quality and variety of charcuterie that we do, so we want to showcase that. The offering will change every day—four items, plus accoutrements—with all of it available in the take-home case. One of my favorite things to make is pâté en croûte, which we will change up as well.
What’s on the beverage menu? Schlafly Bottleworks is a Maplewood neighbor, and David Schlafly is our landlord, so we’re happy to carry Schlafly beers on tap. There’s an Excel soda fountain, and we’ll dabble with wines on tap at some point, too. So no canned beer, soda, or wine, but three kinds of bone broth: chicken, pork, and beef.
How did Bolyard’s initially react to the pandemic, and did it lead to any permanent changes? We laid off our staff so they could collect unemployment. When we were allowed to reopen, it was just Abbie and I, just enough staff to keep the business going. There was no cutting to order; I had to match what we pre-cut to the preordered requests and had to throttle the pickups in a few at a time. We had more requests than two people could handle, but we wanted to be cautious with rehiring the staff. When we reopened, we bought a new case that held a lot more cut product, and we never looked back.
Were you looking to move, or were you presented with a deal you couldn’t refuse? We had our eye on the space across the street when it was The Muddled Pig, before The Dubliner, but couldn’t justify all the extra space—it was two and a half times the size of Bolyard’s. When business increased, we knew we were missing out on additional business, so we looked to the basement, which ironically had been used for meat-cutting. Our plan was to build it out and ferry the meat upstairs with dumbwaiters. Just for the heck of it, we compared that to what it would cost to simply move across the street, onto one floor, which we ended up doing.
Is your wife still involved with the business? She's very much involved with the success and behind the scenes operations of Bolyard's. The plan all along was for her to be a stay-at-home mom, home-school the kids, and run the business and social media from our home, all of which she was able to do. We’re very lucky that the plan unfolded the way we planned.
So having a butcher shop was more conducive to family life than working in a restaurant? In the beginning, there were three of us, so it was crazy. Now we have 10 employees, so I get to go home and have dinner with my family. You can’t put a price on that.
Are there other butcher shop restaurants around the country? Several. The ones that I follow are The Barred Owl in Columbia [Missouri] and Salt & Time in Austin. This is a hand-in-glove, efficient, no-brainer concept to me. You can prepare a beef heart dish and present it beautifully, which is easier than trying to sell one fresh over the counter.
What will the new hours be? There’s a lot we intend to do with the space, but we plan on starting with lunch and weekend brunch. We plan on doing dinners—pop-up style, pre-sold events—and do as many of those as we’re all comfortable with. It’s a slippery slope. I love dinner service but don’t want to backpedal too much and put myself back where I was 10 years ago.
Will there be ancillary events, like cooking classes? Yes, and hog classes… Once a month, two of us break down half a hog in front of 12 people. They’re interactive and we throw out a ton of information. We make up some fresh sausage and everybody takes some home, along with two fresh cuts. We have to cut the meat anyway, and people love to learn about how we do it. So we’ll expand on that and offer a variety of related classes, like meat curing. We might even do a beef class the same way.
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Describe the physical space and how it might be different than other butcher shops. A lot of white tile and a branded white wallpaper. The logo was freshened up. There’s a counter and barstools along the big cut-room windows, which we’re excited about. We’ll have more cold cases, 40 seats, and a wide sidewalk for additional seating. It’s just a cleaner, less kitschy look than before. I like to say that we’re not changing who we are; we’re giving ourselves a face-lift.
Is there a five-year plan? The plan is to allow the new space to reach its full potential, which might take five years. It could be dinner or dinners; it could be a ghost kitchen...
How do you spend your spare time? I run ultra marathons, which could be 50K up to 200 miles, mostly trail running. Nashan got me into triathlons and marathons, and then I got into ultra running. It’s a special place that keeps me balanced and sane. This Saturday, I’m running 100 miles...four marathon loops through all the trails out at Greensfelder Park.