Where have all the butchers gone? Historic shops closing across N.J. as profession dies.

Barry Filippelli cuts lamb meat on a band saw at John's Meat Market in Scotch Plains, one of the few historic butcher shops remaining in New Jersey.

The work wasn't hard at all, John Sabatos said. At times it didn't even feel like work. It was fun.

The 70-year-old butcher spent 54 years hauling meat, cutting it and wrapping it for customers at Sabatos Prime Meats in the Belford section of Middletown. The shop's roots dig even deeper; Matthew Sabatos, John's grandfather, opened M. Sabato and Son's in Newark in 1918.

"We waited on mothers and fathers that came in with little kids. Those little kids are all grown and they have kids that are grown," Sabatos told NJ Advance Media last week. "It's been decades and generations of people that... grew up with us."

But the next generation of Belford residents will have to shop elsewhere for their meatballs, Kansas City pork chops and sausage. Sabatos Prime Meats closed it doors March 18, the latest New Jersey butcher shop to be chopped from the town it long served.

John and his cousin Andy were ready to retire, and there was no one willing to pick up the mantle.

"The kids, they don't want to do this," Sabatos said. "They all work for banks, or as teachers or whatever."

A number of historic Jersey shops have closed in recent years: Schwind's Pork Store in Rockaway called it quits in 2020 after nearly 85 years of business. Jersey City's Moloney's Meat Market opened way back in 1875, but sliced its last steak in 2021. Citarella's Market opened in Red Bank in 1901. It shuttered in 2022.

The closures are emblematic of a national trend: As the current generation of butchers retires, there is no new wave to continue the craft. A once essential blue-collar profession has seemingly become obsolete, along with the community cornerstones in which they worked.

"It's a dying art," Sabatos said. "It seems like everybody is doing this computer stuff. People want to make money, but they don't want to work that hard."

Sabatos didn't close due to a lack of business. The shop was profitable and regularly filled with customers filing in for their beef, pork and poultry needs. The shop's final weeks were especially busy — a combination of the St. Patrick's Day rush and regulars looking to make one last visit.

"It was a zoo," Sabatos said. "We were busy with corned beef, but people also stocking up on stuff that they’re used to getting here. We almost couldn't keep up with it. After a while we couldn't take orders anymore."

As of March 18th we will be closing our door for good. After much thought we have decided to retire. We would like to...

The outpouring of support in the final days of business was humbling for the Sabatos family, which decided to sell the shop around a year and a half ago. Some interested buyers wanted to keep the building as a butcher shop.

"Then when they went searching for butchers, they couldn't find any," Sabatos said. "The asked us to run it. That defeats the whole purpose. We’re old, we want to retire."

Claudie's Chicken, a fried chicken restaurant, will take over the location soon.

Andrew Citarella stands outside Citarella's Market in Red Bank. He managed the shop for its final 18 months.

Andrew Citarella saw it coming.

His family's butcher shop, Citarella's Market, closed in 2022 after 121 years of selling meat in the Garden State. But even 25 years ago, Citarella started to noticed a shift.

Meat, their main product, was becoming less popular.

"I remember going in there as a kid and it was always so busy. I remember my father's customers would come and buy meat for the week. They ate a lot of meat meat back then," Citarella said. "That's changed, people are eating less meat."

The rise of plant-based diets and leaner meats like grass-fed beef slowly but surely eroded business for Citarella's — even Citarella himself is going plant-based, in the interest of health. Customers would sometimes come into the shop and ask for non-fatty cuts. But Citarella's was a prime butcher shop, and prime beef is marbleized — creamy streaks of fat swirling through the beef, adding flavor.

"That's what you want when you go to a butcher," Citarella said. "That means it's juicy and delicious."

Even when people want meat in 2023, they are more likely to buy it somewhere more convenient. A stop at the butcher shop used to be a part of many weekly routines around New Jersey. Now, supermarkets have expanded their meat departments. Many of the butchers NJ Advance Media spoke to for this story, Citarella included, said customers now just pick up meat at the grocery store.

Like Sabatos, Citarella's closed simply because there wasn't another generation ready to keep the business afloat. Even if there was, Citarella said he would want them to enter a less stressful and more stable industry.

Citarella remembered how his father would bring stress from the shop home with him. Citarella got a taste of it as he managed the store for its final 18 months.

"I saw how much work and how much stress was involved in in that business," Citarella said. "I honestly wouldn't wish it on anybody."

John's Meat Market in Scotch Plains, one of the few iconic butcher shops still open in New Jersey.

Vinny Losavio has worked at John's Meat Market since 1966. His father, John, opened the market in 1939, and Losavio remembers when it was one of more than 30 butcher shops around Union County.

"Everybody did business. It wasn't one fight(ing) the other," Losavio said. "And now there's nothing."

John's Meat Market is one of the few historic butcher shops still standing in New Jersey. Losavio said his shop maintains a loyal customer base due to the quality of their product — he brags their meat is so tender you don't even need to chew it.

"My father said, ‘No matter what goes on, don't change the quality, keep prime meat,’" Losavio said. "That's the highest grade you can get. So that's what's keeping us alive."

The price of prime meat has spiked since the pandemic. The cost was up 46% at the beginning of 2022 year-over-year with 2020, according to Beef Magazine.

Barry Filippelli holds a dry-aged beef loin at John's Quality Meats in Scotch Plains, one of the last historic butcher shops left in New Jersey.

Yet Losavio is proud that the business is still standing as shops around him have closed.

"It gets harder and harder because this kind of business, the hours are outrageous," Losavio said. "It's not just eight-hour days, it's 14, 15-hour days. And the younger generation, it's tougher for them."

Years ago, if the shop was looking to add butchers to their staff, they would put an ad in the newspaper and "they came flocking in", Losavio remembers.

Now, not only is there less interest when they look for new butchers, but those who apply don't possess the proper training.

"You can't even get a part-time guy," Losavio said. "If you have a little store, it's almost hard to survive."

Anthony Bracco breaks down a pork shoulder at Darke Pines, a thriving butcher shop in Jersey City.Mary Iuvone | For NJ Advance Media

A beacon of butchery's future may be found in Jersey City.

Darke Pines opened in one of New Jersey's hottest food cities in 2018, and has been thriving ever since.

"We have embedded ourselves into a community that I’d say is fairly affluent, they have disposable income," co-owner Will Messmer said. "And we’re offering a unique kind of product which you really can't find at the supermarket."

Messmer said Darke Pines has differentiated itself by sourcing from local farms, providing whole animal butchery that allows for unique cuts customers cannot find in supermarkets like Denver steaks, Delmonico steaks and tri-tip, and selling prepared goods like sauces, condiments, sides and sandwiches.

Darke Pines showcases the sandwiches, like their seasonal heirloom tomato sandwich, and other specials with a strong social media presence — another area Messmer believes older butcher shops are lacking — and they often sell out. You can pick up a prepared lunch, the meat you’re cooking for dinner and the sides to go with it all in one place.

Will Messmer, owner of Darke Pines in Jersey City.Mary Iuvone | For NJ Advance Media

In a sense, Messmer and his wife, Erica, have created a modern butcher shop — an adaptation borne out of necessity.

"The butcher shops that our parents grew up with, and our grandparents grew up with those don't really exist anymore," Messmer said. "Or they’re becoming extinct."

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Jeremy Schneider may be reached at [email protected] and followed on Twitter at @J_Schneider and on Instagram at @JeremyIsHungryAgain.

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