Local meat man on the cutting edge

It sounds fancy, and indeed Akimenko trained at the Culinary Institute of America and worked at upscale Savenor's and Lionette's. But he also cut meat for Market Basket, and he dropped out of the CIA.

The high-low balance reflects his goals for the future Akimenko Meats. "It shouldn't be just upper echelons of society that can afford to buy sustainably raised meat," he said in an recent interview. He plans to be cheaper than Whole Foods.

Starting with whole animals - the much-vaunted tip-to-tail philosophy in food - works to Akimenko's advantage on that front. They're cheaper to start with, and having every part of the animal on hand means he can pull a Robin Hood trick, "making the rich pay for the poor ... using your more high-end cuts to subsidize those cheaper cuts so people can afford it."

It's also the right thing to do, he said. "Not to get all hippie-dippy, especially because I hate hippies," said the tattooed and crew-cut butcher, but "I feel it's disrespectful to have waste from these animals." For Akimenko Meats, that means house-made "rilettes, confits, fresh sausages, terrines, pâtés."

He hopes to open this fall, and has his eye on a couple of storefronts on the Lechmere side of Inman Square in Cambridge. He estimates the cost at $230,000, including eco-friendly heating and cooling systems. Akimenko has raised over $5,000 in pledges in only 10 days on Kickstarter.

There doesn't seem to be a shop like this already in the area. Lionette's in the South End recently changed hands; Savenor's, which has stores in Cambridge and on Beacon Hill, has a broader gourmet food focus and, Akimenko said, doesn't offer exclusively local meat.

McKinnon's in Somerville buys all its meat in parts except for suckling pigs and baby lamb, said Clemente Palmariello, who nonetheless shared Akimenko's pride in the work. "I'm a meat-cutter 33 years," Palmariello said. "I'll be doing this for the rest of my life."

His customers weren't asking for locally raised or, say, grass-fed meat. "If it was something big, I would've done it," Palmariello said. They prioritized price and ease of preparation - mostly chicken.

Perhaps customers would be more interested - or less - if they saw the tip-to-tail philosophy in action. To keep his skills up and friends happy, Akimenko butchers a whole pig about once a month, renting space at Season to Taste, a locally sourced caterer in Cambridge. Seven friends paid $50 each; the butcher himself lost $12 on the deal, he said sheepishly. (Watch an artsy video of a previous session.)

The pig - clean, pink, gutted, and split in half down the middle - had met its end just the day before at the Adams Farm slaughterhouse in Athol. It had its tongue and kidneys but not its eyeballs or lungs. At 111 pounds, it was rather small, Akimenko said, which meant no fatback to make lardo, a cured, fatty delicacy that Mario Batali puts on pizza.

Akimenko slid a blade along the ribcage to strip out the leaf lard, used in traditional pie crust. He found the vertebra he wanted, marked the spot with a knife slash, then turned the pig heavily over to saw off the head. The table shook.

Caterer Robert Harris's two little girls peeked in and squealed in disgust. "This is where your meat comes from," Harris said. One replied, "I know, but look at it!"

Akimenko never gets grossed out, he said. "It's food! I don't see - maybe because I've been doing this so long."

Or because it demanded such focus. The work changed minute to minute from heavy lifting - cracking the pig's spine on the edge of the table- to peeling the skin off pork chops with a hot knife. Only a few scraps landed in the garbage, including glands and a strip of skin mottled with what looked like bruises. Akimenko shook his head; that meant the pig had died keyed-up.

He laid the skin aside; he smokes it to flavor other dishes. He also kept the head, planning to slow-poach it, strip off the meat, and make a terrine. (Note to ladies: He's single.)

Even as he worked with this top-notch animal, he kept half an eye on Akimenko Meats's ulterior goal. Buying the cheapest possible meat from a Midwestern feedlot. "There's nothing wrong with that if that's where your means are at. But it's unfortunate," Akimenko said. "Good food should be for everybody, not just the rich."

Contact Danielle at somervillescene@gmail.com.

Aaron Panone photo

Vadim Akimenko relaxes with his dog.