When Alex Guzman and Jenifar Chowdhury set out to open their first restaurant, they knew they were taking a risk. They knew that many restaurants fail in their first year. They knew theyd have to balance their undertaking with Chowdhurys full-time work as a construction consultant. They knew the garden-level unit of the brownstone theyd fallen for, on a bustling section of Lenox Avenue in Harlem, would take time to convert from residential to commercial. But they were committed to building their vision: a casual, family-run joint that served inventive food with a story, one that represented their Ecuadorean, Puerto Rican, and Bengali backgrounds. Decade-long Harlem residents, they wanted to hire people from their neighborhood, serve people in their neighborhood, and invite everyone to help shape the culture of the restaurant. The wait would be worth it.
It took four years from the day that Guzman and Chowdhury, who are married, signed the lease to the day they served their first customer a plate of crispy brussels sprouts with cilantro chimichurri in February 2019. During that time, they became parents to a daughter, Lily, and, once their interest-free loan period ran out, started taking on debt. Then, seemingly at the same time, their commercial permits came through along with their liquor license. On opening night at the 40-seat Archer & Goat (named for the couples zodiac signs), Chowdhurys brother and brother-in-law were bartending while she and Guzman acted as host and server. The only two people on payroll, a cook and a dishwasher, worked hard and fast. It was all hands on deck.
In a years time, by Valentines Day 2020, they were packed to the gills, in Chowdhurys words, and enjoying the electricity of a full house. After that night, when they were featured in a news broadcast on ABC7-New York, they caught a glimpse of a near future in which their restaurant would be popular and profitable.
Then came the coronavirus.
The pandemic would force the permanent closure of approximately 3% of U.S. restaurants and layoffs or furloughs of 8 million employees by late April, according to the National Restaurant Association. In New York, it hit the industry particularly hard; nearly 90% of restaurants and bars surveyed by the NYC Hospitality Alliance couldnt afford to pay their May rent in full.
New York Citys restaurants have long been a major part of the citys economy, generating nearly $22 billion in sales and employing a quarter million workers in 2018, most of them young. Clearly, the citys best-known restaurants are prime engines of its tourism industry, but neighborhood places like Archer & Goat are also anchors of their communities. Their survival is key, said Andrew Rigie, the executive director of the New York City Hospitality Alliance.
If we have vacant storefronts throughout the city, there are many ramifications, Rigie said. Restaurants and bars are our streetscape. They bring vibrancy and activity to our streets.
As they look to the future, independent restaurants like Archer & Goat are grappling with these considerations as they decide when and whether to reopen. For Guzman and Chowdhury, who plan on restarting with a limited staff sometime in July, there is also the fact that they are unable and unwilling to abandon their investment, their 10-year lease, or their dream. We put way too much into it to just walk away now, Chowdhury said.
On March 16, when New York City restaurants were ordered to close, Guzman and Chowdhury decided that for financial and health reasons they would not use delivery services, either. They laid off their 10 employees, with whom they had routinely shared a family dinner before opening each evening, and effectively dispersed their community of regulars.
My heart really hurt when it was closing, said Fiona Picard, 25, a Harlem resident. I shed a tear.
Among the employees whom Guzman and Chowdhury reluctantly let go were: their chef, Charlie Watts, 24, a Harlem native who started cooking at 12 and interned at the neighborhoods renowned Red Rooster restaurant; their head bartender, Tathiana Montes De Oca, 38, who said she began in the industry as an undocumented immigrant without other job options but stayed after her legalization because she loved that a plate of food can make someone so happy; and their line chef, Joel Allette, 26, another Harlem native who started working in restaurants even before he was a teen contestant on the Food Networks Chopped.
Like most New Yorkers, Allette could not envision in March how long the shutdown would endure. I cant pretend that I wasnt excited for a couple of days off, he said. But I didnt think it would be a few months.
Guzman and Chowdhury put a sign in the restaurants window We are all in this together and joined the exodus from New York City, moving in with Chowdhurys parents on Long Island. Every Friday and Saturday, Guzman would travel back to Harlem to offer a limited curbside pick-up menu of cocktails and snacks. He would juice limes and simmer olives with aromatics like fenugreek and cumin while he waited for orders. Few came in but Guzman said he felt like he needed to be there in some way. This was especially true after the protests against police brutality intensified in Harlem; he wanted to show his solidarity.
I am Hispanic, he said in an interview at his empty restaurant. I have seen my fair share of that kind of police agitation towards the community, especially communities of color. So I just felt like we needed to be present here now more than ever.
Meanwhile, the restaurants unpaid bills were piling up. They owed money to their landlord and to utility companies. Their anxiety about mounting debt was alleviated somewhat when they received a loan through the Small Business Administrations Paycheck Protection Program, given that under new rules up to 40 percent can be used for non-payroll purposes after they rehire employees.
In mid-March, Guzman and Chowdhury urged their employees to file for unemployment benefits, and they did. For Montes de Oca, the process was an ordeal. I called every day, she said. One of those days I called over 100 times. During the month it took for her to start receiving benefits, she burned through her $3,000 rainy day fund and worried about having to dip into her long-term savings, she said: If the savings are all gone, how can I live? Before the pandemic, she had not spent much time contemplating her relatively low pay, lack of benefits, and fundamental job insecurity. But now she does.
Her 20-something colleagues are less concerned. Like roughly half of American workers, many of them were collecting more money through unemployment checks than they earned at the restaurant, thanks to the federal supplement of $600 weekly. But that expires in July, and Archer & Goats employees are eager to return to work.
I need that kitchen, man, Allette said. I need to be back on the line.
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I need that kitchen, man. I need to be back on the line.
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Joel Allette, Chef
Allette has been riding out the pandemic by doing some independent catering work, cooking Caribbean, Southern and Spanish food for parties, like his goddaughters recent birthday. But he misses the open kitchen at Archer & Goat, where he would prep the brussels sprouts that would, he said, drive people wild. He also misses the camaraderie the after-hours parties, where theyd push the tables aside, turn up the music and dance; and his relationship with the dishwasher, who was teaching him Spanish.
To his surprise, Alexander Tomas, 29, a bartender and server, also finds himself longing for one of those long, busy shifts at the restaurant. I never thought that I would miss waiting on people or serving them drinks in my entire life, he said. He has been riding out the shutdown by waking up early, working out with a colleague from the restaurant and biking around the city to run errands for less mobile family members. He has confidence that Archer & Goat will reopen when its safe, he said, and is taking every day one minute one second, he corrected himself at a time.
For Watts, 24, taking it one day at a time has meant cooking almost as much as he did at the restaurant, but from his own menu: fried chicken and macaroni and cheese rather than grilled cauliflower with shishito peppers or lamb neck with pappardelle and avocado vinaigrette.
I was cooking for my friends, and they were like, You need to sell this, he said, and I was like, You know what? I dont got anything better to do. He started advertising on his Instagram page. Orders rolled in, which he cooked, boxed and personally delivered. Bringing in some income while collecting unemployment allowed him to save some money for what he hopes might be a Harlem-based catering business down the road.
The restaurants are kind of like the soul of the community in Harlem, said Picard, the Archer & Goat regular. She said it was especially heartbreaking to see her favorite restaurant closed while her community reeled from the killing of George Floyd. The actual place where people go to heal, that was shut down.
As Guzman and Chowdhury make plans to reopen, they are uncertain about the future and what changes they might need to make to remain viable.
Im just trying to stay creative and figure it out, Guzman said. Because not very many people are given the opportunity to open up their passion project in the best city in the world.
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