Traditionalist keeping ‘the older butcher style’ going
Kris Boult talks to New Plymouth shopkeeper Mark Wormald about his time in the butchery trade.
Mark Wormald has been a butcher pretty much all his life.
You could say the trade’s in his blood. Wormald’s father, Sid, had his own butcher shop and slaughterhouse in Alexandra, Central Otago, for 43 years.
‘‘On Sundays we’d be out in the car or on our bikes herding stock, which dad often bought from local farmers,’’ Wormald says, as he prepares four fillets of manuka smoked salmon in the preparation room of his New Plymouth butchery business.
‘‘He worked hard. We only ever saw him for lunch on a Saturday, to move stock, or on Sunday when we had lunch with him at the slaughterhouse after church.’’
Wormald followed in his old man’s footsteps. From the age of 13 he trained in all aspects of butchery from ‘‘paddock to plate’’, under his dad’s expert eye.
When it came to formal training at the age of 15, Wormald had to complete around eight thousand hours, or the equivalent of four years training to get his apprenticeship.
But as he had already done so much work with his father he already had two or three years worth of knowledge and had worked more than enough hours to complete the qualification.
‘‘So in theory I’m not a qualified butcher on paper but I’ve done loads of hours. It’s not all about what’s on a piece of paper.’’
Wormald, who is married to Anna, the principal at New Plymouth’s St Pius X School, has owned The Fridge Butchery and Delicatessen in Devon St East for the past six-and-a-half years.
They have two children, and although they are following their own paths in life, they have worked alongside their father in the shop. Anna also pitches in during the holidays.
But their children are forging their own paths. Rebecca, 20, is at university in Hamilton training to be a teacher and is ‘following in her mother’s footsteps’ – although she is still charged with running the Fridge’s Facebook page.
Meanwhile, Josh, 18, is in London coaching tennis and wants to be a professional tennis coach.
The children were born in England during the Wormalds’ stint in London – for although butchery is in his blood he has had other careers.
‘‘They say a rolling stone gathers no moss, and there’s no moss on the top of my head,’’ he jokes, pointing to his bald head.
In London he restored Victorian houses before going back to butchering and eventually opening his own shop in the city after a chance encounter in Kensington.
‘‘I walked in and asked the Irish owner if it was for sale. We did the deal on a handshake and he went home to Ireland.’’
The store was initially opened as a bit of a hobby and sold New Zealand and Australian products and supplied some retail and restaurants.
But business soon grew, and after nine years Wormald found himself run off his feet with having to supply about thirty restaurants and pubs every day.
‘‘I was doing crazy hours, sometimes up to 100 hours a week.
‘‘I just threw my hands up in the air one day and said I’ve had enough. I was worn out, so I came home.’’
Back in New Zealand he spent eight years looking after the children in Alexandra before he found himself converting an old fish and chip shop into the first ‘‘Fridge’’.
Anna then decided it was time to return home to New Plymouth and be closer to her family.
‘‘They say idle hands get into mischief so my wife said to me, ‘Mark go and open another butcher’s shop’.’’
And so he did. ‘‘I wanted a store on the main street and to bring back the traditional-style butcher shop,’’ he says.
The store, which also sells speciality cheeses and cured meats, is run by Wormald and his apprentice, Regan O’Connor, who joined the shop six months ago after working in a supermarket.
O’Connor says he’s enjoying the work, although he jokes he’s sometimes found adjusting to Wormald’s traditional approach to be a challenge after a supermarket background. Wormald buys his beef and pork locally where it’s all slaughtered and bought back in whole carcass form to be broken down.
‘‘I know exactly where it’s come from and I try and support local, that’s how we survive,’’ he says.
‘‘I try and work on free range product that’s free from preservatives and nitrates and free of plastics.
‘‘It’s all wrapped in brown paper. I’m very traditional. I like to keep the older butcher style.’’
But businesses like this are increasingly rare on New Zealand’s high streets. At one stage, Wormald recalls, there were 18 butcher shops in New Plymouth.
Supermarkets have taken a big bite out of the market, and issues such as parking charges have also had an effect.
But Wormald doesn’t seem particularly concerned.
‘‘People appreciate the personal touch, coming in and saying hi, having a chat and a laugh as well.
‘‘I’m a destination shop, I have my own customers and people that come in regularly and make the time and effort to do so.’’
He’s not that worried about New Plymouth District Council’s recent reintroduction of Saturday parking charges, either.
‘‘It’s a shame they didn’t keep the free parking on Saturdays, but if people want to shop with me they’ll get a park,’’ he says.
‘‘Don’t come running in without putting money in your meter first. It’s all going to take time and I may not have what you want ready.’’
Meanwhile, as the world moves on, this confirmed traditionalist admits he is struggling with some modern technology.
Daughter Rebecca even had to write a note on the wall to remind him to post updates on Facebook.
‘‘Just give me a ring,’’ he says. ‘‘Don’t text me or send a message on Facebook. I’m old school.’’
As for opening other branches in the future, the butcher says he is happy with what he’s got, and the only thing he’s looking forward to is a holiday in October.
‘‘It’ll be the first one for quite a while as getting away can be quite a hassle. But you have to take a break: there’s more to life than money.’’