Hook, Line, and Smoker

Edited by Marina Crouse

Gus Leaf steers his vessel from the harbor into the Vineyard Sound. The calm waters turn into choppier waves as the co-owner of Martha’s Vineyard Smokehouse confidently directs the boat, his hunter green bib repelling the splash. Gus appears content, enjoying the hobby-turned-second-career that brings him out to sea. As his 27-foot boat rounds the Westernmost point of Martha’s Vineyard, the retired corrections officer zeroes in on his task. Surveying the screens on his dashboard, white lines signifying clusters of various sea life, he seems to enter a state of anticipation. 

“We’re going to the backside of Nomans,” he announces, heading to the waters surrounding the small, uninhabited island a few miles away. “There’s been a few reports of big bluefish out there.”

Nomans’ chalky cliffs are illuminated by the 7am sun, the golden and red hues coming into view. While there are a few other boats passing through, there is a sense of uncharted wildness about the space. Slowing the motor as he approaches the former bombing range-turned-wildlife-refuge, Gus produces two fishing poles from behind the driver’s seat. With practiced casts he sends each lure soaring, securing both rods in the stern’s holders. The boat glides along at a leisurely pace, lines dragging in the wake.

“When you’re working on a boat, obviously your platform is never the same, you’re always moving. You don’t want to be reaching and be off balance, OK?” Gus explains helpfully, then holds up the lure and fastens it to the rod’s frame, just behind a rung. “So I always will hook this into the closest one to me.”  

Not unlike a coach, the Vineyard local is specific and crisp when giving instructions and has a knack for energizing those around him. 

“It’s a fisherman’s tip,” he smiles, scanning the water. 

A sudden tug on the starboard line summons Gus’ attention. He picks up the arching pole, reeling and pulling methodically against a pale blur beneath the ocean’s surface. Less than a minute transpires before the captain sends a bluefish of roughly eight pounds sailing into the boat. Slapping around for a few moments, the feisty fish is unhooked and bled, immediately placed into an awaiting cooler. The first of many catches that Gus will soon fillet and Chef Nathan Gould, the other owner of MV Smokehouse, will brine and smoke over the course of the next day. By the end of Gus’ excursion, over a hundred pounds of bluefish will populate the chest, designated for smoked spreads, chowders (which are free of shellfish and gluten), and filets. It is no easy task, but Nathan and Gus’ endeavor has attracted adoring Vineyarders and visitors alike for the past seven years, only gaining momentum with each season.

Two Schools of Food

MV Smokehouse has quickly established itself as an island treasure. Get there early enough and you can find yellowfin tuna, bluefish, and whitefish spreads at numerous MV establishments before they’re scooped up by eager beachgoers. The popular logo - a cowgirl riding a giant fish as if it were a bull - can be spotted among the downtown crowds and even those boarding the ferry in Falmouth. Such a successful endeavor means hectic summers and little time for sleep, but the chef and the fisherman maintain jovial spirits, especially when conducting their business meetings on Gus’ patio. Joined by their significant others and an affectionate tiny dog, Nathan and Gus reminisce about the Smokehouse’s early days. Leaning forward in his deck chair, Nathan says it began as a “one cooler and a hand-painted sign” operation in 2014 “with a picnic table.” 

“A really funny little stand,” Gus adds, “and then it’s just gotten bigger and bigger and bigger every week. And then every month. Then every year.”

Nathan met Gus one year before their farmers market debut. Originally from New Jersey, Nathan had been working in the Caribbean when an Executive Sous Chef opportunity at Edgartown’s Harbor View Hotel beckoned. Upon moving, Nathan was introduced to Gus by some of his “local fishermen buddies” and immediately noticed Gus’ meticulousness.

“As a commercial fisherman, Gus was handling the fish, like, well beyond any handling techniques that you normally find guys doing. He had this true care for the fish, he was bleeding his bluefish.” Nathan raves, “Everything that he had was just a beautiful product.”

Likewise, Gus was intrigued by Nathan’s attention to detail and culinary experiments with a “homemade smoker.”  

“I think I said, ‘you should start smoking my fish,’ and he’s like ‘alright, love to!’” Gus recalls, noting how quickly their collaboration took root. 

“You think of New England and summer, most people say blue fish pâté, right? It’s a very iconic dish. Smoked fish in general, I feel, has gained popularity in the last ten years. When we started talking about this idea we couldn’t believe that no one was smoking local fish!” Nathan comments, recalling the first time he smoked Gus’ fish and brought it along to a holiday gathering.

“We got to talking and he's like ‘would you ever think about starting up a smokehouse?’” Nathan begins, but Gus quickly corrects him.

“No, I said we have to start a smokehouse!” Gus laughs, “so I said, ‘listen, I’ll buy my own piece of property, and the first thing I’ll do is I’ll build a smokehouse. And, true to it,” he motions toward the shed across the lawn, “it was the first structure on the property. So it had been here longer than the house!”

With its namesake up and running, MV Smokehouse entered the farmers market scene. Nathan split his time between the island and Boston for the smokehouse’s inaugural seasons. Coming to the Vineyard on days off from a chef job on the mainland, Nathan assisted with the production process. Having worked at O Ya in Boston and The Beach Plum Inn in Chilmark, Nathan’s main focuses are now the Smokehouse, his Sweet Reaper Hot Sauce, and some upcoming projects.

“We were a super seasonal business at that point and now it's sort of expanded in the shoulder seasons,” he notes, amazed at the “crazy” rate of growth that has continued in their eighth summer.

“We went from 0 to 60 quick. I still remember (the first market) to this day. We got back in his truck, counted our sales, and we were like, ‘Oh my God, we’re so stoked!’”

“$300. We were rich men!” Gus proclaims amusingly, “Couldn’t believe it! Our smoker might’ve smoked about 5 pounds of fish at a time. We said, ‘Maybe we should upgrade to a 10-pound smoker.’ Now that one holds 200lbs at a time.”

The smokehouse, usually flanked by a gray-blue Bronco bearing the cowgirl logo (or fishgirl, rather), has evolved at the breakneck pace of the business. Yet the style of procuring fish to fill it has remained unchanged. One catch at a time, rod and real, never nets. Gus cites sustainability and the freshness of the meat as his reasoning for the method. Being the sole fisherman for the business most days - for 12 hours at a time in some cases - Gus needs to be able to bleed and ice each fish right away, especially when dealing with bluefish.

Net(less) Result

“It’s getting the oil and the blood out of the meat. If they’re not (bled), the meat can absorb those and it changes the flavor. Some people love the gameyness, most people don’t.” 

Gus elaborates by pulling up a picture on his phone: a side-by-side comparison of unbled and bled bluefish filets. The latter is robust, its meat looking tender, fresh, and pristine. Far more appetizing than the other cut, which appears splotchy and uneven in texture. Pooling oils and blood have saturated and almost spoiled the fish, a flaw in technique that has given the variety a bad wrap, Gus asserts.

“I show this to people at the farmers market all the time.” He says, emphasizing that each day’s catches are “either getting cured that night or first thing the next morning. I say it’s boat to smoke.”

“Believe me, that translates to all the way to the end.” Nathan adds, then dispels the popular notion that freezing or other shortcuts would eliminate the gamey flavor. Gus’ technique yields the best results, the two conclude, even though it can be exhausting.

On a typical day, the fish get filleted just hours after being cut, then get handled and cured. From the cure they go for a quick dry in order to get “tacky,” as Nathan describes them, as they are headed for the smoker. After the smoker they are cooled down, hand-picked, turned into spreads, packaged, and sent out.

“It’s like a 15-20 step process versus us just buying smoked fish and getting it delivered,” Nathan notes “You really have to manicure it the whole way through.” 

An Island Treasure

Perhaps Nathan’s estimate leaves out a later step. After the spreads are made, Gus is known to put on a charismatic show at farmers markets with his girlfriend, Jill. In fact, Gus loves the challenge of drawing in new customers.

“I’d eye people and be like ‘alright, I’m gonna sell them.’” The fisherman nods confidently.

“He’s a little competitive.” Jill teases.

“I was brutal.” Gus flashes a toothy grin. 

“My daughter would be like ‘Daddy, stop, you’re bothering them,’ and I’d be like, shhh, ‘hey, come over here! Try this!’ Pre-COVID, when they could sample. And 98% of the time, they’d buy it. Sometimes in the middle of the night I’ll be like ‘hey, try this!’ in my sleep.” Gus earns a laugh from the group, then adds with sincerity, “I had a repertoire. I just started a new business and I wanted it to succeed. I believed in the food, I knew it was good. And I knew if I could get them to taste it, I would sell it.”

Customer rapport, cultivated by Gus, Nathan, Jill, and other members of their team, may be central to MV Smokehouse’s success. The group does not seem to take islander or visitor business for granted, remarking frequently on the support they’ve received from the community. 

“Our customers are great. Genuine, always asking how you are.” Gus begins, “When we run into them at the farmers market, they’re not asking about the product, they’re asking how we’re doing. Then they’ll say, ‘what do you got new?’”

“On the island it’s just, you know, ‘support local businesses!’” Jill explains, “ We weren’t getting (comments like) ‘we don’t eat fish, we don’t like smoked stuff.’ They love fish. So I think that was a huge piece of why on-island took off.”

Jill, who manages the Smokehouse’s social media as well as most details beyond the fishing and smoking, has also connected with fans from afar. For a growing number of visitors to the island, enjoying the spreads has become an annual event. But since the pandemic canceled most trips last year, several folks were eager to resume their smoky traditions in 2021. One such man reached out to the team and demonstrated just how integral MV Smokehouse had become to his Vineyard travels.

“A gentleman from California messaged us. He said, ‘my girlfriend’s coming, missed last year, but comes to the Vineyard every year. She will not stop talking about smoked bluefish and your company. Can’t wait to see you guys and buy some things!’” Jill describes sending him the design for their new hats and the pleasant conversation that ensued. After the man mentioned where his girlfriend was staying on the island, Jill offered to assemble a basket of Smokehouse spreads and swag to await her upon check in.

“He’s like ‘ No, you serious? You kidding?’ I’m like ‘sure, not a problem.’ So we put a package together, send it over, no big deal. He ended up writing a review on social media and it was just really nice.” Jill smiles and Gus jumps in.

“Here’s a lady who missed the Vineyard last year because of COVID. She mentioned to her boyfriend how much she loves our stuff, so he went out of his way to get it, and we were able to provide her with a gift bag. How can you not be happy over something like that, you know?”

All Smoke, No Mirrors

Ask anyone working in food service to describe summer on the island and you’re unlikely to hear “relaxing.” Maintaining one’s energy and sanity during the brief, intense waves of visitors might mean cutting corners, streamlining at the expense of quality, or simply doing less for some. MV Smokehouse does not yield to this temptation. 

“How easy would it be for us to just say ‘you know what? We’re just gonna order everything from the fish shops from now on.’” Nathan muses, readjusting his cap. The afternoon light blends into the subdued glow of early evening, fileting time is near. “Now you don’t know where your product’s coming from.”

“We’re able to put our hearts into it. It’s not easy,” Gus admits, commenting that he’s working “ten times as hard” in retirement than during his career in Boston. “But I’m happier at the end of the day…” He tilts his head, pondering for a moment, then corrects himself with a chuckle, “I sleep better! I sleep like a rock now.”

Despite the increasing demands of their business, Nathan and Gus are exuberant when describing what they do. The endeavor has provided them with a new perspective on fishing life, which seems to only reinforce their commitment to their method. And the fiercely loyal customers help sustain Nathan and Gus’ boat-to-smoke ethos. 

“I think if all of us didn’t see how happy our product makes our customers, then we would’ve backed out of this a long time ago.” Nathan states plainly. “There’s been struggles. Do we invest in this? Do we do this? Is this smart for the business? And then you go and work a market, you see people excited and they know what they’re ordering. They’re telling you ‘we can’t wait for this!’”

It would seem that the customers celebrate the effort MV Smokehouse puts into being a truly local brand. Perhaps they realize the blood, sweat, and tears that have gone into the venture. Grateful, of course, for the lack of bluefish blood.

Get hooked on MV Smokehouse spreads! Check them out at the West Tisbury, Falmouth, and Osterville farmers markets! You can also find their products at Edgartown Meat & Fish, Morning Glory Farm, and several other island establishments.