UNITY, Maine — For a typical chef, success might mean studying in Paris, running a starched brigade in a swanky kitchen, and getting good write ups in the food and wine guides.
Well, one rising culinary star had all that — and the stress that came with it. But he’s given it all up for something completely different: life in a rural Amish community in Unity, where former chef Matthew Secich has left the pressure cooker far behind.
It’s not your typical deli — it’s more of a traditional charcuterie, which specializes in cured meats and sausages.
The shop, which is called simply Charcuterie, is a converted cabin tucked away in a pine forest. You have to drive down a long, snowy track to get there. Inside, ropes of andouille, kielbasa and sweet beef bologna hang from hooks above the counter. Handmade meat sticks, fat as cigars, sit in a jar by a hand cranked register.
Still, customers are seeking out Matthew Secich’s shop. Mark Warren has driven an hour in the snow to buy some of the sausages, smoked hams and cheeses.
“A little of everything, it’s handmade,” Warren says. “You can’t get anything any better. Pretty amazing what he can do from scratch.”
And that’s exactly the kind of review a diner might have given Secich 10 years ago, after forking over $350 for a single meal.
Secich studied cuisine at Johnson and Wales University and crossed the pond to learn French techniques. He says Julia Child herself taught him how to make an omelet.
“From there it was a wild tale of chasing the, I guess you could say the four-star holy grail of the cuisine world, and traveled all over the country working at various great restaurants, working for great chefs to someday be great,” he says.
But Secich and his family have now chosen to settle in Unity, and join a growing Amish community, embracing both the religious and cultural life of their neighbors.
A wood stove in the corner provides the only heat. When the winter light fades in the afternoon, oil lamps will light the shop. Secich has built a pine-plank cold room with 79 tons of hand-hewn ice harvested from a local lake to keep his ingredients chilled. And all the meat must be ground by hand.
They’ve also adopted the unfancy dress of the Amish, and Secich is now sporting a beard that falls past his chest.
It’s a radical departure from the path Secich was on 25 years ago as a military man serving in the Persian Gulf. Or even 10 years ago, when he brought that military manner into the kitchen as a sous chef at the renowned Charlie Trotter’s in Chicago.
“I thought I was on top of the world and I had the best job that you could have in working for one of the best restaurants in the world, and being a commander of many,” he says. “I think we had 35 young people I tortured on a daily basis.”
Former colleague Sean Fowler can attest. Fowler, who is now chef-owner of Mandolin in Raleigh, North Carolina, describes his experience working with Secich as the “best of times and the worst of times,” with an insanely passionate man who was “half masochist and half sadist” in equal measure.
Secich himself admits he demanded a perhaps unattainable perfection.
“I was kinda crazy,” he says.
And unhappy. Secich says he felt that something was missing, and didn’t find it until he adopted a traditionalist Christian faith and left the city to homestead. Happiness now, he says, is living off the grid as an Amish family.
Secich says everyone has had to adapt. His kids now take a pony to school instead of the bus. His wife stays home to care for the family. And whether Charcuterie thrives as a business remains to be seen.
“We probably only have very small sales these days, but I trust that God’s going to provide for us exactly what we need to get by,” he says.
And he says whatever happens, he won’t ever be reaching for the Michelin stars again.
