Slaughtered
Tuesday.
On the block
by sunrise.

Three generations,
one block.

My father taught me to butcher in a shop the size of a hallway. We've grown the room and the case, but not the corners we cut — which is none. Every animal we sell is hand-slaughtered halal, every cut hand-trimmed, every customer welcomed by name when we can manage it.

Tell us how you cook, and we'll cut for it. Tell us your grandmother's recipe, and we'll find the spice for it.