At Wolf & Co., Rosa Fraga redefines butchery

Wolf & Co. in the West Loop is a multifaceted spot that combines a restaurant, café, and butcher shop, with a dog-friendly patio that overlooks the 606 Trail. Step inside, and you’ll find Rosa Fraga at the block, proving there’s more than one way to embody the craft of butchery.

Fraga moved to Chicago after training in Texas and North Carolina. She now butchers whole pigs and beef from Kilgus Farmstead for the restaurant and butcher case.

“I’ve always been food-motivated,” she explained, recalling how her father’s kitchen experiments first nudged her toward butchery. “I remember coming home from high school and seeing half a pig on the counter because he wanted to make salami. At the time, I thought it was weird, but I think that was my gateway.”

Her training came the traditional way, through apprenticeship and persistence. “Mostly it’s on-the-job, finding someone willing to teach you,” she said. “At first, there’s a lot of doubt, especially as a woman. People assume you’ll quit once it gets hard. But once you’ve made your ten-thousandth burger or sausage, you prove you’re not going anywhere.”

Read more at Chicago Star

• Sumo and Sushi rolls into Chicago
• Luke Bryan’s Farm Tour hits Berning Family Farms
• Davis School Chicago brings Jewish prep education to Lakeshore East
• Oprah Winfrey’s former Water Tower Place condo hits market

That resilience was sharpened by skepticism not only from peers but also from customers. “It’s funny, I think I’ve had more doubt from customers than coworkers. People see me behind the block and are surprised. But slowly, there are more women in this industry, and that makes a difference.”

At Wolf & Co., whole-animal butchery is the guiding philosophy; nothing is wasted. From house-made breakfast sausage to bone broths and charcuterie, everything finds a purpose. “You can’t always sell pig skin from a butcher case,” Fraga said. “But in the restaurant, you can turn it into chicharrón or use it as a garnish. That’s the beauty of working with a kitchen, you find ways to respect the animal.”

For her, butchery is more than a skill. It’s a moral commitment. “Whole-animal butchery honors the life of the animal. Using every part is an act of respect, an acknowledgment that what nourishes us was once alive, and deserves more than to be wasted. It’s not just meat on a plate, but a living being transformed into sustenance. That’s important to me.”

Respect, however, is only one part of the equation. The craft also requires artistry. The work is undeniably physical, but Fraga views it as much about creativity as it is about labor. “Every country cuts animals a little differently,” she said. “There are endless possibilities, it’s like sculpting or problem-solving, with creativity in every cut.”

That creativity sometimes involves introducing customers to foods they may not be familiar with. She described making rillettes, a slow-cooked pork spread. “People may not know what it is, but when they try it, they love it. It’s about easing people into nose-to-tail eating.”

Her goal is not to win arguments about meat consumption, but to spark curiosity. “I don’t need to change anyone’s mind about eating meat,” she said. “I just want people to be more curious about where their food comes from.”

Part of the problem, in her view, is that most people don’t ask fundamental questions about the meat they consume. Who raised the animal? What was it fed? How far did it travel? In a grocery system designed for convenience, the answers are often buried behind supply chains that are harder to trace and easier to ignore.

That’s why she favors smaller, transparent farms over corporate suppliers. For her, success is making something delicious enough to nudge a diner or shopper to wonder about the story behind what they eat.

As for what comes next, she doesn’t take herself too seriously. “Maybe I’ll retire as a miniature donkey farmer,” she joked. Until then, Chicago diners can count on her knife skills, vision, and persistence behind the counter at Wolf & Co.