Deciding to reopen Harlem, my beloved restaurant in the heart of the city, was not a decision I took lightly.
After spending five years building Black House, a nature retreat in Alliston, Ontario designed with my wife Ana to nurture wellness and community, I was far away from the city in a rare state of calm, savouring life’s simple pleasures.
Then, the universe started whispering its lessons.
It all began unexpectedly at a Halloween gathering at a friend's house in Alliston—an intimate neighbourhood party meant to foster connection. As I mingled, a conversation about what I do for a living paused me for a moment, as it had been some time since someone asked me that question. I settled on “I am a builder” given that it’s what I had been doing for the past 4 years. My friend quickly interjected, "Carl used to own a restaurant downtown called Harlem," and suddenly, the room fell silent.
One couple remembered meeting at Harlem’s opening party; another recalled their first date there. Before long, three of the five couples had met at Harlem—each sharing stories that sent shivers down our spines. That night, we were old friends, reminiscing about a place that meant so much more than just a restaurant. It was a catalyst for connection, love, and community.
{https://www.instagram.com/p/B4Ltk50FgiI/?hl=en}
In less than 6 seconds we all had common ground, we all got goosebumps on the realization that of the five couples present in the room, 3 of them had met at Harlem and for the rest of the night it was like we were old friends as they all regaled their Harlem stories, each taking turns to blame me for the kids they now had together.
It was a beautiful night as it brought back memories of what the restaurant meant not just to me but to them.
Driving home, I reflected on that serendipitous night. I smiled, filed the memory away under ‘weird but wonderful,’ and thought, Maybe the universe isn’t finished with Harlem yet.
{https://www.instagram.com/p/DKN0zK8uQGB/?hl=en}
But life, as it often does, threw obstacles in my path. In January, I faced the challenge of evicting a tenant from the Harlem space. Over the following weeks, I received 16 offers to lease the property—yet, each time, the idea of another restaurant in that space felt less right.
The hardest part? Telling Ana, my wife of 20 years, about my desire to reopen Harlem. It took me weeks to find the courage. When I finally shared my vision, she cried—partly out of surprise, partly out of understanding. But she listened, and more importantly, she supported me. That was 96 days ago. Now, I finally feel like I’ve come up for air.
Black Joy
Harlem has always been more than a restaurant; it’s a sanctuary—a place I created for us to experience Black joy, from the live music, to the spoken word to the after-hours drag balls, it’s a place that feels like home.
For design inspiration, I looked to African motifs. The bright colours of Ankara cloth have served me well as I wrapped the walls and tables with it like wallpaper, a design motif I have since named Afro-Gucci.
Because it’s always been Afro-Gucci. Historically, European fashion houses have looked to Africa for inspiration, and today’s high fashion often takes right from the streets of Congo, Côte d’Ivoire, and Burkina Faso. Africa currently has the youngest population on the planet. It is vibrant, and fiercely creative—the Pan-African movement is a beacon of inspiration for me. Afro-Gucci is a celebration of that resilience, beauty, and innovation.
Our Community
I have never revisited an old idea but I strongly feel that this new version of Harlem is an intergenerational bridge connecting my generation with the next. Creativity has no age limits. And Harlem will always be a place for creatives where resistance is encouraged to thrive.
Harlem has always been more than a restaurant and entertainment space. It’s our community. More than anything, Harlem is our collective home—a place of belonging amid a polarized world. In these tumultuous times, we need spaces that remind us of our power, our beauty, and our resilience.