“Flambo” is a slang term used in Trinidad and Tobago for a makeshift lamp used during power outages and made from a kerosene-soaked rag stuffed into an old rum bottle. Flambo is also a Caribbean restaurant in the heart of the Gayborhood owned by Anthony Logan. It’s a fitting term since both seek to spread light and provide comfort.
Logan runs the restaurant with help from his son, Kevin. The five-star restaurant serves authentic Caribbean food and has a great happy hour. The lovely Michael Newmuis introduced me to the spot as it’s one of the few places in the Gayborhood open in the afternoon to meet and socialize. I had a chance between courses to speak to Logan on his interesting journey from the corporate world to Flambo! Some responses have been edited for length or clarity.
Tell me a little about yourself.
I was born in Trinidad and Tobago. I grew up there until I was 15 and after I finished high school — a little early — I came here to the U.S. and stayed with my uncle in New York. His kids had grown and left, and I stayed there. I went to college for one year and then Kevin, my son, was born. I did not want to raise him in NY so we came to Philadelphia, well, Lansdale outside of Philadelphia.
My culture is not very accepting of LGBT. They think that something is wrong with you and that you should see a priest. All I heard constantly was that you should get married and start a family. You need a woman in your life. There was a lot of pressure on me and a lot of shame which came with being who you are as a person.
In NY, I’d brought family over and everyone was getting married and starting families so I did too but I couldn’t stay in my marriage because of my homosexuality. I wanted to be able to be me and I didn’t want to hurt anybody. It was so complicated being young and trying to understand life. Then I met a dashing young man and it was like, “Oh, this is different.” I ran with Kevin to Lansdale and have been trying to slowly accept who I am ever since.
Wow, that’s a lot.
Yes, even up until recently you’d hear, “You’re this, you’re that, your father didn’t make you like this” from your siblings. It’s very hurtful still. When Kevin got older, we decided to move into the city. I was working for Hahnemann hospital and worked as a director there for 14 years. At Hahnemann, I had a boss who made it hard for me too. He was constantly asking me about sports, and I’m not a sports guy. “What teams do you follow? What’s on your cue? Why don’t you like sports?” It made me very uncomfortable.
After a while, I got tired of it and said, “You know what? I need to do something different, I need to be free. So one day, I just decided I’d had enough, that I wanted to resign and do my own thing. By doing my own thing, I could make my own HR rules. I could choose who I wanted to work with me. So I bought an abandoned building on North Broad Street. I worked really, really hard to make it successful, because I wanted to prove something to those who would judge me by my sexuality. I’ve never depended on anyone. I raised a son, a very good son. I started my own business. Judge me by that.
For sure, but before we go too far, I want to take you back a little. What was it like growing up in Trinidad and Tobago?
I grew up in a small town, but I went to school in the city. It was a carefree life. My dad worked in the city, so he’d drop me off at school in the morning and pick me up at night. At home, I played with friends and neighbors and siblings. [Laughing] Life was so good. It was like “Little House on the Prairie”! I had seven brothers and sisters. I’m the youngest.
My father was the oldest of eight!
[Laughing] I guess back then, TV wasn’t that interesting. My dad worked in the city and my mom farmed the land, with the cows and goats and all. On weekends for leisure time, my dad would take all of us to the beach. And that’s what we knew. You knew the world outside existed, but we were in our little bubble.
What was something fun about being part of a big family?
Like “The Brady Bunch.” It did feel like we were in a TV show because there was always something happening with someone. Fighting, playing, knowing everyone’s different personalities — the quiet one, the sporty one. I was always the studious one. I got chosen to read for the prime minister. I got picked to represent my school, and I was very particular about things. I wanted my shirts pressed for school each day. Pants had to be ironed just so. I made sure to sit up straight so as not to get wrinkled, whereas my other brother was devious and wild. He’d be jumping out the window. By the time we came home from school, he’d be missing a button and have his shirt done up lopsided. I was always like, “Don’t travel with me, I can’t be seen with someone in such a state!”
What things did you like to do?
I was very artistic. I was good with my hands so I would mold cows and sheep and make a little animal farm and pretend I was the farmer. I also loved table tennis, which you call ping-pong. I would compete with the other kids in the neighborhood.
So did you go to school when you moved here?
I came here right after high school. I was staying with my uncle but he didn’t get me and I couldn’t figure him out. I got a job at the airport and one of my friends told me that she was going to school and the job was paying for it and encouraged me to go too. So I went to school but never finished because during that time, I also got married and became a father. When you’re raised traditionally the way I was, you do what you think you’re supposed to do — go to school, get a job, get married, start a family. It’s ingrained in you. I was really in love with her. She was beautiful and a great person and we got along very, very well but it didn’t last.
What did you study in school?
I went for accounting. I’m good with cash flow and I’m very detail oriented.
I would say so since you ended up in operations at Hahnemann.
Yes, and I’m very good at interviews! I feel like they should be a conversation about morals and values, and what you each want. I got hired as an accountant and was later offered the position in operations, which I did for a long time before leaving to open up a restaurant.
Your first Flambo was in North Philadelphia, correct?
Yes, we were there for about 4-5 years but I wanted to open a place in the Gayborhood. I was tired of living for other people. I wanted to be genuine and to be true to myself. I’m a believer in destiny and I was at the IHOP, and you know how you eat so many pancakes, you have to walk them off? And as I turned the corner, I saw this building and I called the number and magically it worked out so that I got this place. That was two years ago.
Tell me about your coming out journey.
Well, you know, I don’t even know if I’m out.
[Laughing] Well, you will be after this!
Yes, I don’t really identify with anything. I just like to be me, whatever that is. Sometimes, I find it hard to fit in because the LGBT community can be a little wild and I’m very traditional and I don’t want to find myself again trying to be something I’m not.
Well, you must be doing something right since you have a handsome hubby. How did you meet?
I design costumes for carnivals in Brazil and the Caribbean; and a friend of mine and I went to India to check out different designs and get inspiration. While there, I just bumped into him and he had a beautiful smile that I fell in love with. The night I met him, I had a flight at 2 a.m. I gave him my number and when I came home, he called and for three years, we just talked on the phone. He was also very traditional and I loved his family. We ended up getting married and we actually almost became contestants on “90 Day Fiancé.” But in the end, he comes from a Muslim family in a very small village and if we had done the show, people may have taken it out on his relatives. They could even have been killed because of us. So we just had a small wedding ceremony here with my son, and his wife and family.
Have you received any pushback from any family members?
I don’t even think they know. I’ve kind of closed the door on that chapter of my life. I’m still very good friends with my ex-wife. I really love her so it was sad what happened and that anyone got hurt. But when you’re 19 and growing up in a culture that doesn’t allow you to talk about these things, you make a lot of mistakes. I know someone right now in an arranged marriage. They know about him, but he’s been married off to a woman. He has two kids now and he told me, “I don’t live for me.”
What’s a good memory of something you’ve done with Kevin, outside of running the restaurant?
I always take him back to Trinidad for Carnival. When he got older, I didn’t want him to go crazy drinking when he turned 21 and pass out in someone’s basement so I said, “Go out and get wasted and I’ll take care of you.” So he did and I carried him home and it was a beautiful moment for me because I was there to keep him safe. We always have a good time when we go home. We have a strong bond. I’ve been able to be a friend and dad at the same time.
Let’s talk about the restaurant. I understand you do all the cooking. Where did you learn to cook?
When my marriage broke up, I was with someone for 20-plus years and his mom was a professional chef. I learned so much from her. She worked in a number of Caribbean restaurants and I used to look at how she would cook. It is from her that I got the idea of opening a restaurant. Cooking was something that was free, and it’s instant gratification. I loved her dearly as a mom. She accepted me for who I am and accepted us for who we were. She would say, “You guys are my sons and I love you both.” His whole family made my life easier.
What’s one of your favorite things about owning the restaurants?
Hearing a fork hit the floor. When a fork hits the floor, it causes a vibration. When you start a business, you never know if it’s going to be a success and you carry the weight of the people you’ve brought along. My son dropped out of his nursing program to help me, he became my business partner and now he’s a bartender here in the Gayborhood. We shut down the Broad Street location and created this beautiful space out of a place that used to be a bathhouse. Upstairs, you can still see the separated areas for the little rooms and the sauna and showers. So, when I hear a fork hit the floor and make that noise, I know there are people here and that we’re busy.
What can people expect when they come here?
Hospitality. We pride ourselves on greeting everyone with a smile and making people feel comfortable. The food is authentic and fresh. We just want you to enjoy all aspects of the experience.
I read that your godfather predicted that you would own a restaurant someday.
After I’d lived here for five years, I went home and in our culture, we do a lot of palm reading. Parents often take their kids, so my dad and I went to a guru and he asked, “Do you have a mole on your hip?” I said yes, and he said, “If you open a restaurant, you will be very successful.” Nowadays, it’s easy to dismiss things like that, and I didn’t take it seriously but I wish my dad was here to see it now, to see that it came true.
OK, let’s do some random questions. In summer, what do you miss most about winter?
I don’t enjoy winter, but I do miss the coziness. Huddling up under a blanket.
What song makes you nostalgic?
“La Isla Bonita,” Madonna, 1986. When I left my family at 15 1/2 years old, the first song I heard on the bus when I got here was “La Isla Bonita” and I thought of the sunshine and the beautiful island I’d left. It took me home when I didn’t know what I was doing here.
Two foods you don’t like?
I don’t like fish and I’m not a fan of game foods like venison.
Describe a favorite relative.
My favorite was my dad. [long pause for a little emotional break]
When did you lose him?
In 2006, it was April 4, Kevin’s birthday and we were home in the islands. I stayed there for a month to help my mom with him and that day, I noticed he was different. He was very restless. It was like he was trying to hold on and about an hour after midnight — after we celebrated Kevin’s birthday — he passed away in my arms on April 5.
There are superstitions that you’re not supposed to be near someone when they pass because the soul was traveling, but I asked him if he wanted me near and he said yes, so I sat with him and chanted and prayed as he took his last breath. He actually pointed up just as he went. He looked so peaceful. The reason I looked up to him so much is because he taught me so much about how to treat people and he was nurturing. He used to wash my face with rain water to help me sleep and he taught me to appreciate words. He’d say, “Grammar is the science of language and the art of using words correctly.” He was a great guy.
The house is burning. What do you take?
Nothing. Just the memories. I’m not that concerned with material things. [Gesturing to the restaurant] I could leave all this behind, because I know if I had to, I could build it all again. I’ve learned to take time to take care of me because when I leave this world, I’ll take nothing with me. Just the love of those around me and the experiences I’ve had.
For more information on Flambo, visit flamboh.com.