Where’s the Beef? Try Ovoka Farm

Ovoka Farm from the top of Ashby’s Gap.

Photo by Crowell Hadden

Where’s the Beef? Try Ovoka Farm

By John Sherman

Through my window I see the first light touch the top of Ashby’s Gap above Paris and wash red down the hillside, down over pastures broken by stone walls, and over the homestead of Ovoka, the great house, the outbuildings, the barn, the silo. Over black cattle wandering the hillside.

For some years, the property was in jeopardy of being developed. Its present owners, Karen Way and Guy Morgan, bought the farm in 2008 and expanded the eight-bedroom, columned mansion, built in 1820. Since then, they’ve reassembled the original property to over 700 acres of its original plat, including the recent addition of 64-acre Liberty Farm—Ovoka’s original grazing land.

Remarkably, Guy was raised just over the ridge from Ovoka. As a young boy, his grandfather took him to visit with then-owner Reed Thomas.

“All I can remember were the peacocks and Dobermans,” Guy said.

After high school, he enlisted in the submariner service, went to the University of Maryland and spent the next ten years playing in a band he formed called the “Nine Day Wonder.” (His grey hair still falls to shoulder length.) He went on to form—-and sell—-the country’s largest private electric company, headquartered in Chicago, where he met Karen, an energy lawyer.

When they purchased Ovoka, Karen and Guy realized their vision of a working farm where they could raise their own meat. They started their first herd with Angus stock from the local Livestock Exchange.

It was dinner in one of San Antonio’s top restaurants that Guy ordered a steak from a Japanese breed he had never encountered—-Wagyu. “After tasting the melt-in-your mouth beef,” Guy recalled, “I knew I had to learn more and I knew I had to bring Wagyu to Ovoka.”

Guy Morgan and Karen Way at Ovoka.

Photo by John Sherman

A full blooded Wagyu steak is almost pink—-not red—-from the intense marbling that permeates the meat. The cooked meat is so rich it’s often described as “buttery” or “foie gras.”

“Because of its high content of monounsaturated fatty acids,” Guy said, “Wagyu’s melting point is lower than the human body temperature.”

The amount of marbling makes full-blooded Wagyu the highest priced beef in the world, commanding as much as $200 a pound. Costco recently offered $100 off a four-steak package, down to $400.

Karen pointed out that most retail meat labeled “Wagyu” has only a small percentage of the actual breed, so prices can be lowered while still maintaining its cache. She cautioned consumers to read the labels carefully.

“American-Wagyu” are typically a cross between a full blood Wagyu bull and a full blood Angus heifer—-a half-and-half split known in the trade as “F-1 beef.”

“Pure bred Wagyu is extremely rich,” Guy said. “Americans want the size and beefy taste of an Angus The combination has created its own niche in the meat world.”

Today the herd includes about 80 full blood heifers and 250 F-1s and F-2s (3/4 Wagyu and 1/4 Angus). “At the end of this season, we’ll have 60 new full blooded Wagyu calves that will be the next generation of Ovoka’s Heritage beef’s genetics,” Guy said.

Karen, a practicing lawyer, also manages the farm and the day-to-day cattle operations. “Beyond buying or selling and raising our stock, I’ve enjoyed getting out and introducing our beef to local restaurants, like Field and Main and Hunter’s Head, under Ovoka Heritage Wagyu Beef.”

Karen also manages Ovoka’s donations to local food banks through the Piedmont Environmental Council’s distribution network. The farm has donated thousands of pounds of its Heritage Wagyu beef and Mangalitza pork.

“Our work doesn’t end with a one-and-done donation,” Karen clarified, “Ovoka is committed to supporting the long-term hunger relief efforts of groups like FISH, so at each harvest, we’ll ensure consistent deliveries.”

At some point, the couple hopes to slaughter their own beef on the property and personally oversee the butchering.

“Our goal is to be as self-sufficient and selfsustaining as possible,” Karen said.

Guy sees the opportunity to expand their offerings.

“Take a pig,” he said. “The American style is to give you back a ham. The Europeans take the same ham and break it down into ten completely different cuts. We want to do the same.”

And down the road, smoking and creating charcuterie.

“When Guy brought us back to his home in Virginia,” Karen said, “we never even dreamed of finding a farm as breathtaking as Ovoka, never mind watching our cattle grazing the hillsides.”