New York has always been a “meat and potato” town, introducing porterhouse steaks, hot dogs, hamburgers, and even chicken & waffles!

Suppose you’ve moved into a new home, say an apartment on Manhattan’s east side. Nice. You go to bed and dream your happy dreams until 3am, when you’re suddenly awakened by a thunderous roar, getting closer and closer, louder and louder. What on earth could that be? It sounds like mooing!

You run to the window. Filling the streets below are a hundred head of cattle, being herded across town by screaming teenage drovers. They’re wielding clubs to poke the slow bulls, and whacking the noses of the speedy ones to slow them down. These young cowpokes need to be vigilant, lest some animals get loose and terrorize the city, as often happens. 

Welcome to one of the frequent Manhattan Cattle Drives, held mostly at night to avoid tying-up traffic. You’re right to assume it’s not the current century. But it could be any time before the 1930s, when New York City was Meat Central. Live cows, pigs, sheep, calves, lambs and much other livestock landed in New York via boat, and later train, then were marched through the city streets, on their way to hundreds of Gotham slaughterhouses. Meat processing was one of New York’s largest food industries, along with flour milling, sugar refining, and beer brewing.

Before the advent of refrigeration, animals had to be slaughtered close to their end users, or eaters. Meat begins to spoil as soon as it is separated from the beast; after 12 hours it’s often tainted beyond edibility. It had to go from hoof to plate ASAP. Throughout most of history, a human population couldn’t survive unless it co-habitated with its sources of perishable fresh food.

Today, most Americans don’t really know where their food comes from, and many don’t care. If you’ve ever seen a film about how hot dogs are made (and you lasted until the end) you know why the meatpacking industry has such a bad rep. Let’s face it, any business which calls itself a “butchery” or “slaughterhouse” can’t be pretty. Although you may not want to visit a meat processing plant, I found that learning about them can be very enlightening. They’re a vital and fascinating part of New York’s food story. 

Vegetarians, take heart. New Yorkers have enjoyed meatless dining since the 1800s. Many consider meat-eating unhealthy, as well as just downright cruel. This chapter will pull no punches in this regard; vegans will find much to validate their beliefs. But first, we must ask the question:

Why meat?

Our ancient human ancestors hunted wild game 2 million years ago, well before agriculture. The consumption of meat fostered advances in human development, providing complex proteins, slow-released calories, and increased height and strength. Also, the act of hunting required cooperation and communication, helping to establish civilized societies.

As far as we know, domestication began about 10,500 years ago, when the Turks and Syrians began raising sheep, goats and cattle. The Chinese did the same with pigs; pork is still their most popular meat. South Asians were raising chickens about 8,000 years ago, at first for eggs, then for meat. Asia’s favorite poultry was and is duck, the domesticated descendant of the mallard (nine ducks imported from China in 1873 sired our popular Long Island duck.) Turkeys are native to North America, especially Mexico. Of course, just about everything that walked, crawled, flew or swam was eventually tasted by somebody somewhere; favorites became the local cuisines.

It’s what’s for dinner

New York’s favorite cuisine has always been beef. In fact, the city is synonymous with steak, with cuts entitled New York Strip, New York Sirloin, New York Cut, Delmonico Steak and Porterhouse Steak, all invented by Gotham’s butchers and restauranteurs. Porterhouse (a combo of tenderloin and top loin) first appeared in 1814 in Martin Morrison’s “Porter House” on Pearl Street. Delmonico Steak was introduced on the restaurant’s menu in the 1840s, cut from the rib or short loin and served with Bearnaise sauce. They still offer it today.

The Native Americans who first lived on “Mannahatta” maintained open forest land, in which they hunted deer, rabbits, birds and fish. It was the Dutch founders of New Amsterdam who brought the first cattle, hogs, goats and sheep from Europe in the 1620s, forming the foundation of the American diet. Known as “milk and cheese” folk, the Dutch augmented their cuisine with a hearty helping of meat.

But this was nothing compared to the English, who took over New Amsterdam in 1664 and renamed it New York. The Brits loved them some meat, and gobbled it down for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And since New York’s meat was so much cheaper than Europe’s, they could eat their fill. Although Dutch taverns survived, English taverns soon outnumbered them. In the 1770s, the most famous was the Bull’s Head Tavern on the Bowery, owned by Henry Astor (John Jacob’s brother.) Henry was one of 12 licensed butchers in town, and a champion flesh chooser. He would gallop up the Post Road to intercept cattle drives and buy up the choicest specimens.

In the late 1700s, a “beefsteak orgy” was periodically given for favored customers at a joint called Shannon’s Corner. No knives, forks or napkins were permitted; each guest consumed his three pounds of broiled beef between thick slabs of bread, accompanied by unlimited ale. This tradition lasted for decades, and was revived with gusto a century later (we’ll get to that.)

Follow that meat

The insatiable craving of New Yorkers for animal flesh meant that a constantly growing local supply had to be raised, butchered and distributed. Arriving cattle, sheep and hogs from Long Island and Westchester were held in pens near the ferry and train terminals. Hundreds of butchers would search the yards for the best animals to purchase. Few creatures were left by the end of the day.

Pigs had been roaming the streets, eating garbage and refuse, since Dutch times. Butchers used to get all the pork they needed right outside their doors. But when vast herds of hogs began arriving, they caused a nauseating, squealing stank. Many residents complained–to no avail–and then moved.

Most animals were herded through the streets at night (as detailed earlier.) Enraged bulls would sometimes take off and stampede through town. One angry bull charged into a home on Christopher Street just as the family was sitting down for breakfast. As recently as 1930, four 1200-pound bulls got loose, followed by cops commandeering trucks and taxis in hot pursuit. Two of the bulls made it all the way downtown before being shot. A few months later a steer raced through Herald Square, knocking down pedestrians and smashing through the window of a tailor shop (sorry, it wasn’t a china shop.) Another made it to Lord & Taylor on Fifth Avenue, where it was shot dead in front of stupefied shoppers.

Next stop: the abattoirs

Since the earliest days, slaughterhouses were located on the outskirts of town: shoved up against the rivers, or pushed north of the populace. The reason was simple: their constant noise and horrendous stench made adjacent living unbearable.

By the 1850s the Hudson and East Rivers were lined with 206 slaughterhouses, butchering 375,000 animals per year. The situation was completely decentralized, and sparsely regulated. What the newspapers called “filthy, revolting stinkholes” supplied 100,000 households with daily meals.

The deadly cholera epidemic of 1866 gave birth to the New York Metropolitan Board of Health. They ordered the “blood-soaked shacks,” moved up above East 40th Street, clustered along the East River. But this “Slaughterhouse Row” was eventually surrounded by some of the wealthiest townhouses in Manhattan.

What happens next is recounted in the story of a courageous woman named Mathilde Wendt, who organized her female neighbors to battle the politically-protected butcheries…and in the process introduced women into the men-only worlds of livestock, protests and courtrooms. You can read her powerful story here: (there’s another link at the end of this chapter)

I can’t believe it’s not...

One slaughterhouse which won Mathilde Wendt’s approval was owned by Timothy Eastman. He installed ice-cooled circulating fans for his chilling rooms, keeping the temperature at a constant 38 degrees. Instead of discarding unsaleable animal parts, he transformed them into new products. In a triple-sanitized room, he processed stomach fat to remove solid tissue, combined the remaining oil with milk and salt, and invented “artificial butter,” or oleomargarine, a cheaper alternative to real butter. It outsold butter nationally for many decades. Once again, New York had been the birthplace of a popular food, “spreading” it across the country.

Answering to a higher source

When Chicago meatpacker Gustavus Swift invented the refrigerated railway car, enabling slaughtered midwest meat to be safely delivered across the country, many thought it marked the end of New York’s meatpacking industry. But it wasn’t to be. 

The half million Jewish immigrants who arrived in the late 1800s kept New York’s meat business viable. That’s a lot of people requiring kosher meat, which could only be slaughtered, dressed, packed and stamped under the watchful eye of a rabbi (a rarity in Chicago.) By the 1930s, kosher slaughterhouses processed 90% of the 400,000 cattle arriving in the city. Meatpacking remained the second largest food industry in the Big Apple.

Their #1 seller was, of course, kosher hot dogs. When Charles Feltman began peddling these strange sausage-and-bread treats on the Coney Island beach, little did anyone know that frankfurters would become a $50 million NYC industry. Read all about Nathan’s, Hebrew National, and the Lower East Side’s “Great Sausage Belt” in the Hot Dog Chapter.

What about burgers?

The hamburger is another food made famous in New York City. In 1873 German Immigrant Auguste Ermisch offered a “hamburger steak” at his restaurant on Nassau and John Streets. The New York Times reviewed it: “A beefsteak redeemed from its original toughness by being mashed into mincemeat...this is very appetizing.” By the 1880s hamburgers on buns were being sold by street vendors for a walk-away meal. In 1933, a little dining chain from Wichita, Kansas called White Castle opened in New York. Good move; soon there were 15 of them strewn about the city. Many will fondly remember Gotham’s beloved Hamburg Heaven at Madison Avenue and 62nd Street. It was opened in 1939 by a divorced Connecticut housewife whose backyard version won raves. The expensive gems (25 cents) developed a cult following among wealthy upper-east-siders; Rolls Royces and limos surrounded the busy corner, while the uber-stylish in their ermine and tails gobbled their forbidden treats.

To join the absolute latest burger craze, line up on Houston Street for Hamburger America. This cozy diner is the brainchild of filmmaker George Motz, whose documentary of the same name (Hamburger America) visits family-run burger joints across America. George’s simple, classic menu features his Onion Burger and Classic Smash Burger, both mega-popular. And his french fries just might be the best in New York!

For today’s ultimate burger, Old Homestead Steakhouse on 9th Avenue and 14th Street offers a 20-ounce Kobe Beefburger, which will set you back 43 bucks. While you’re at the Old Homestead, take a look around the neighborhood. It’s a storied place still referred to by many as the Meatpacking District. On the north end of the West Village, near 14th and Hudson Streets, it was once home to over 250 slaughterhouses. Animals and/or their parts were delivered by the nearby elevated trainline. As the slaughtering industry began to fade in the 1970s, the “meatpacking district” came to mean something else, especially for the gay clientele who populated the area. Illicit sex clubs and police raids abounded. Then, in the late 20th century, hip boutiques, trendy restaurants, a major museum and an Apple Store took over. The elevated train tracks morphed into the mega-popular High Line park. This latest “meatpacking district” was dubbed by New York Magazine as “New York’s Most Fashionable Neighborhood.” In this city, even change keeps changing.

And what about turtles?

Did you say turtles? Yes, turtle soup remained a premier New York delicacy for centuries. Brought to the city from the Caribbean or the Carolinas, one turtle could weight several hundred pounds, too large for home cooking, but a goldmine for a large eatery. When a fortunate restaurant procured one, the event would be advertised: “Soup is on the way! Worthy of the animal of which it is made!” Niblo’s Garden on Broadway actually set a gigantic specimen belly-up on the sidewalk to attract passers-by. Hatfield’s Tavern on John Street posted an ad: “A mammoth turtle will be cooked in the best style Wednesday next...the lovers of good eating will have their taste gratified.” The secret to the turtle’s success is calipash, the gelatinous substance beneath its shell, which was considered a delicacy. Today the turtle has vanished from New York’s menus.

And what about chicken and waffles?

I thought you’d never ask! Although everybody wants to claim they invented this classic Soul Food dish, fried chicken served with waffles is a Harlem creation. Introduced at the Dickie Wells Supper Club on 7th Avenue in 1938, the dish was created to feed hungry jazz musicians who finished work around 2am, as well as their post-jitterbugging admirers. The combo of a dinner item with a breakfast item fit the bill perfectly. Wells had to expand his tiny eatery from a few counter stools to 250 seats. The dining crowd was always equally integrated, about half black and half white (Sinatra used to dine there with Sammy Davis Jr.) Although Wells’ club closed in 1982, today this “southern” meal is offered in a zillion restaurants across the country.

To market, to market

After butchered meat left the slaughterhouse, where did it go? If you answered “market,” you’re right, but nothing like today’s supermarkets. For almost three centuries, New Yorkers shopped for all their meat, fish, fruits, vegetables, cheeses, and every other food at huge indoor/outdoor markets, scattered around southern Manhattan. Each featured a roofed area sheltering butchers, fishmongers and produce sellers, as well as a massive outdoor arena jammed with pushcarts offering a myriad of edibles.

There were no convenient supermarkets or neighborhood bodegas at this time; all provender needed to be procured from these big public markets. Daily at dawn, everyone from housewives to boardinghouse cooks to restaurateurs fought their way through the throngs, contending for the freshest fish, best cuts of meat, and everything else needed for their tables.

The giant markets were the city’s pride and shame. They were sort of like today’s Union Square Greenmarket combined with the indoor Essex Market or trendy Eataly...just quadruple the merchants in the same space, and add humongous crowds, boisterous sellers, obnoxious odors, and unkempt surroundings.

Here’s a rundown of these surprising historic relics which supplied our forebearers with their sustenance (see 1840 map below, with my overlay):

The first was the Fly Market (from the Dutch word “vlie,” meaning meadow.) It opened in 1699, taking the place of a downtown area known as “The Shambles.” Another early market opened at Peck Slip on the East River docks, a hub of the maritime industry. It was New York’s first brick-built market.

After a century or so, as a market reached decrepitude it was superseded by others, like the Washington Market, which lasted into the 20th century. It was the largest of all NYC’s markets, boasting 1,000 indoor and 2,000 outdoor stands. Today it is a quiet, tree-filled park.

The Fulton Market was another enormous shopping spot, ideally located near the Brooklyn Ferry. When individual butchers were finally able to get their own licenses, they opened small, independent shops around the city, undercutting Fulton’s prices. Eventually all the butchers left the big market, leaving only fish sellers, who famously plied their trade until 2005. Today the rebuilt Fulton Market building houses chef Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s snazzy “Tin Building” marketplace.

Jefferson Market was another sprawling indoor/outdoor cavalcade of comestibles, opened in 1832 on 6th Avenue in the Village. At its center stood a tall wooden fire lookout tower, which eventually became a towered courthouse and prison, and is now beautiful Jefferson Market Library and Garden.

Finally...to the Steakhouse

As the population of the city grew, early taverns gave way to boardinghouses, where daily meals were served to bachelor guests. The clientele wanted steaks, chops and ham for breakfast and dinner, and they got it. In the 1850s English-style chophouses were popular, serving pork and mutton along with beef. The oldest chophouse was Old Tom’s on Thames Street, featuring a “groaning board” at the entrance, displaying steaks, chops, kidneys and mutton pies. Another chophouse of fame was Clark and Brown’s on Maiden Lane, where huge joints were roasted over an open fire. These chophouses weren’t pretty: they had sawdust floors and bills of fare posted at the bar. Cobweb Hall on Duane Street had thick cobwebs hanging from every rafter; after a fire in 1868 the few surviving webs were secured in a glass case. During the day, lunchrooms served meaty meals lightening-quick, so businessmen could return to work in a matter of minutes. There were also places which specialized in “Beef and,” which also offered “ham and,” “pork and,” etc. The “and” was usually beans or a potato.

The earlier-mentioned beefsteak orgy from the 1770s was joyfully resurrected a century later. These were private affairs organized by Nostalgic Beefsteak Clubs, allowing the rich to go slumming in a “thrilling descent into savagery.” Stage designers transformed large rented halls into old time taverns, so the well-heeled diners could sit on sawed-off barrels and consume beef between slabs of bread, no utensils or napkins provided or wanted.

Today’s classic New York Steakhouse has come a long way since the cobweb/barrel-sitting days. Many have been around for over a century. Each one continues its own traditions, cuts of meat, and ambiance. Most all serve side butters and sauces for your meal, as well as oysters, Caesar or iceberg wedge salads, potatoes, and the ubiquitous creamed spinach. If you truly want to enjoy the best steaks and chops of your life, visit one of these specialized restaurants. It’s expensive, but you’ll remember your meal forever:

The oldest is Delmonico’s (56 Beaver Street,) which has been around since 1827. It still serves their signature Delmonico steak plus many other cuts. Another oldie but goodie is the Old Homestead (mentioned earlier) founded in 1868 at 56 9th Avenue. Keens (72 West 36th Street) arrived in 1885; here you will dine beneath thousands of clay “churchwarden” pipes, kept on hand for customers like Teddy Roosevelt, Babe Ruth and Albert Einstein. Williamsburg, Brooklyn started their own steakhouse tradition in 1879 when Gage and Tollner opened at 372 Fulton Street. They were followed in 1887 by Peter Luger (178 Broadway), where the big deal is the porterhouse steak. Famous 20th century midtown steakhouses include Frankie and Johnnie’s (1926, 320 West 46th Street), The Palm (1926, 250 West 50th Street), Gallagher’s (1933, 228 West 52nd Street), Sparks (1966, 210 East 46th Street), and Smith & Wollensky (1977, 49th Street and 3rd Avenue) where I had one of the best steaks of my life.

You don’t have to spend a fortune to enjoy meat-based dining in the city. Many street carts sell Jamaican beef patties along with hot dogs. There are Halal trucks everywhere (but they don’t serve pork), Greek gyros, Peking duck, Korean hot pot, meatballs (on spaghetti, a NYC invention), any Irish bar’s corned beef and cabbage, a hefty sausage and peppers sandwich from an Italian street fair, and so much more.

Make friends with your butcher

Despite all the gory details about meat processing I’ve espoused, I must admit that some of the nicest people I’ve met during my research travels are butchers. Especially someone from a family who’s operated at the same location for a century, one who’ve been taught by a grandparent and is passing it down to their progeny. New York’s greatest wealth resides in all of its tiny, beloved food emporiums, each serving a neighborhood for generations. They are real landmarks which deserve preservation. Nothing can replace them.

Take Frank Ottomanelli, for example. I met him at Ottomanelli & Sons Meat Market at 285 Bleecker Street. As we were chatting away about the bad old meat days of long ago, he pointed to his brothers working in the back room, then to a faded photo on the wall depicting a bunch of Ottomanellis standing outside the store in the 1940s. “You know, they used to have this huge goose corral downtown,” he shared wistfully. Frank’s the kind of person I’d trust my meat order to.

Then there’s young Jennifer Prezioso, who’s taken over her grandfather Moe’s meat shop Albanese Meats & Poultry at 238 Elizabeth Street. Everybody in the hood remembers Moe Albanese; you’d always see him sitting outside the shop joking with passers-by. Sadly, he died from COVID-19 in 2020. Jen had been working and learning with Moe; she bravely took over the shop herself. It’s not easy running a century-old meat business a few blocks from a huge Whole Foods. But I’d much rather have friendly Jennifer provide my fresh Thanksgiving turkey then ordering a plastic-wrapped one online.

In the end, family butchers are looking at a tough future. At this writing, the oldest in the city, Staubitz Market at 222 Court Street in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn has had to start a GoFundMe page, hoping to raise money to fix their storefront, as per orders from the city. John McFadden, who worked here beside his Dad since the age of 11, is a tireless champion of this timeless shop, which has looked much the same for decades. If things don’t change, they won’t be there for long.

So why not visit quaint Court Street with its beautiful bakery, classic soda fountain, old-fashioned movie house, and a 100-year-old market? Or stop by your local butcher, baker or deli owner and make some new friends. You, too, can be a preservationist!