Lahore Tikka House: An Invitation & A Love Letter

“Today, I invite you to be a tourist in your own city. No passport or plane ticket needed. Come, walk with me through the Gerrard India Bazaar.” This is Gulshan Alibhai’s welcome to her neighborhoood, opening her Toronto Tedx talk delivered in February 2020. My invitation is to listen to her entire commentary. Take a minute now, it’s important.

When you speak with Gulshan, you immediately understand you are listening to a truly special human being. We talked well past the time I had informally allotted for the interview, me scribbling notes that will go far beyond a single blog post. (Reader, be excited, this will not be the last Gulshan Alibhai story.) I came downstairs after our phone call and stood somewhat stunned in our living room. “Aaron, I just met an extraordinary person.”

But, first, I need to write this post. So here we are.

As Gulshan explains in her Tedx Talk, she met her husband at Lahore Tikka House when he first opened it, before it became the defining neighborhood icon that it is today. Since then, through his passing and her shift from social worker to social entrepreneur, the restaurant has been a defining piece of heritage for Gerrard India Bazaar. A bit of a legend, a recent Toronto Star piece told the story of Lahore Tikka House and Gulshan’s decision not to sell to a developer, despite financial pressures exacerbated by the COVID pandemic.

Support for Lahore Tikka House has been far reaching – from a nurse who drove from Hamilton to pick up a meal, to a hand written note she received from a customer who lives in Montreal. “It has been such a year of exception,” Gulshan reflects. “When I was thinking about selling, it was so humbling to hear these stories of people who feel grounded in this community.” She reflects with generosity and grace, “It’s been humbling to know what this restaurant means to people, and they came to support us and kept our doors open.”

It’s not hard to understand why. Walking into Lahore Tikka House feels homey and familiar to those who are familiar with South Asia – and likely even those who aren’t will instinctively feel the authenticity even if they don’t specifically recognize it. The colorful table decorations, the ordering style, the chairs, the intergenerational community coming together for meals, the rickshaws in the parking lot, and certainly the tastes and smells evoke a very specific sense of place. And it is a place that Gulshan deeply loves. The entire experience, really, can best be described as a love letter.

Gulshan describes her food with intricate detail. When I ask what her favorite dishes are, there is no quick answer but rather a conversation that follows. The Palak Paneer is first. “Do you like spinach? If you like spinach, you have to have the Palak Paneer. With the sesame naan. And of course the chick peas, the chana masala. And really you should try the veggie combo, it has everything in it and everything is so good. You can see the ginger, you can see the coriander, you can see the onion.”

She takes great pride in the legacy of authenticity left by her husband. “My husband I wanted people to understand that food is medicine, to understand what each ingredient does… I am so proud that I can keep the food authentic, halal meat every day, fresh produce every day, authentic for 25 years, fresh naan in the Tandoor. Authentic and fresh and whole. I applaud my husband for keeping true to that and I have to applaud myself for not taking short cuts.”

Now, it seems impossible to imagine Gerrard Street without Lahore Tikka House. But it hasn’t always been easy, and it isn’t easy now. While the restaurant is beloved, it faced an uphill battle to get going. Construction to build what we all know today was delayed, Gulshan shares, partly by skepticism of a Pakistani restaurant becoming so prominent in the neighborhood. Plans for a rooftop patio and garden reminiscent of South Asia were met with community resistance. Everything about Little India seems vibrant and valued, but beneath the surface, Gulshan says, there is still a darkness. These days, on top of the pandemic, the property taxes are crippling and Gulshan bemoans the lack of specific support to protect neighborhood ethnic enclaves. She is both struggling to determine how she will hold on to Lahore Tikka House and endlessly creative. Maybe something else on the second floor. Maybe a green project for the roof. Maybe something on the patio weekend mornings. Coming next: Netflix is filming scenes for an upcoming series in her dining room. But the property taxes are so high, it’s a struggle to see how it all comes together.

Gulshan Alibhai, Owner of Lahore Tikka House

Gulshan reflects with affection on the growing diversity of Gerrard Street, and with grace on the obvious changes. She isn’t one to cling to what is familiar for its own sake, rather contemplating several times in our conversation on the ever present nature of change, and loss, and creation. She’s excited to see new stores opening up, and as I list other businesses I’m thinking about interviewing for the blog she lists the owners by name, suggests ones I don’t know, offers introductions. Lahore Tikka House’s relationship to Red Door Family Shelter is very important to her. But her affection isn’t without nostalgia, and her grace isn’t without a bit of grief. She loves her community.

And one of her favorite things is welcoming school groups for field trips. When it is safe, she hosts elementary school students to learn about her food, her culture, her business approach. She shares the way her business reflects her family, her social work, her values. She loves offering her home to children who will integrate it into their world view. Each meal is an invitation and a love letter. And Gulshan welcomes us to be part of it.

Sanagan’s Meat Locker: Just buy the whole damn store

Sanagan’s Meat Locker was one of the first shops that caught our eye when we moved to the neighborhood. Walking past the window, the beautiful cuts are laid out in a way that makes you want to cook. Or learn to cook, if needed. Or maybe open a whole restaurant. Their shop window makes it easy to dream big.

Despite my desire to drop my entire professional trajectory and immediately become an expert in whatever was happening in that window, we started simple. Burgers.

It was my Dad’s birthday, he was coming to visit me in Canada for the first time. We wanted it to be a fun and special meal. He loves burgers, it’s his favorite birthday dinner. (Also cupcakes. Sadly, Sanagan’s doesn’t sell those although I’m sure if they did, it would be incredible.) So we figured we’d fire up our grill for the first time, and have a fun evening on our back porch.

Reader, I’ve never had burgers this good.

Despite my enthusiasm in this particular blog post, I’ve never gotten particularly excited about burgers. I mean, they’re burgers right? Oh my. These are BURGERS. It’s indicative of the store that something so simple stands out so much.

Sanagan’s describes itself as “a chef-driven butcher shop that sources the highest quality and best tasting meats and foodstuffs from Ontario family farms.” So it’s meat you feel good about eating, if you’re so inclined. And it tastes like it.

Founded by Peter Sanagan just over 10 years ago, the first location was in Kensington Market. Founding staff came from the restaurant industry and Peter wanted to bring the same-high quality meats to their customers. About three years ago, they expanded to the East End, the neighborhood where Peter himself grew up. Neighborhood resident and Sanagan’s employee Cole Howson was eager to help them establish a shop in his own community, and is now Manager of our local Sanagan’s outpost. Cole couldn’t be happier, “We have been here for about three years now, and each year is better than the last.”

Cole Howson, Manager of Sanagan’s Meat Locker on Gerrard St. Photo from Sanagan’s.

Much of what makes Cole most proud is deeply connected to the store culture, especially during the pandemic. While keeping up with what has felt like constantly changing guidance has been a challenge, the butcher shop was well set up for success. Detail cleaning is not new, and much of what has been required for COVID was already standard practice. Sanagan’s was already working on an online ordering system, which was accelerated during the pandemic but ready. Peter has been meticulous in communicating with customers, and provided deep support for the entire team. The company as paid benefits, Employee Assistance Programs, a generous company minimum wage, and paid emergency days. While at one point they were doing four times their normal work to meet the demand of customers cooking at home more, they had the support to keep up and stay safe. “No one had to worry about losing their job if they didn’t feel comfortable coming into work,” Cole says. Not to be taken for granted as we watch this current wave.

For our little family, Sanagan’s has become synonymous with fancy dinners in a difficult time. Spending the holidays across a closed border from my parents, their present to us was online gift cards that have kept us well stocked for the important occasions. Turkey for Thanksgiving. Beef Wellington for Christmas. French-cut pork chops for Valentine’s Day. Steaks for birthdays, anniversaries, or the celebration of a new job. More Turkey for Easter – because Aaron doesn’t like ham, but I digress. And the Pairing Club Events they join with The Pantry‘s Jeremy Lago and Beer Sommelier Justin Spencer deserve an entire post of their own – forthcoming.

It’s been a tough year. Sanagan’s has made the bright spots a little brighter, made the holidays warmer, and has given us a sense of celebration even when things feel like never ending grey. It’s how we mark the moments we really need to remain special, with food that matches the occasion, even if we don’t leave our backyard.

PS: Did I mention the hot sauce? Fermented. Amazing. Get the hot sauce. Also the pâté. Just buy the whole damn store.

Glory Hole Doughnuts: You’re Welcome

I really have no idea how we lived in this neighborhood for so long without devouring all of these doughnuts. Do yourself a favor. Get up, right now, and walk down to Gerrard Street, just near the intersection with Rhodes. Buy a doughnut. Vegan? They’ve got you covered, too. They open at 10AM and close when they’ve sold out, so get a move on. You’ll thank me.

Photo by Sarah Plufg

Where does this magic come from? Owner Ashley Jacot De Boinod took a lesson to heart from a theory class she took in Chef school: Do one thing really well. “That motto really took hold of me,” Ashley shares. “I’ve been very passionate about dedicating and honoring the old traditions of being an artisan. So, I took that and combined my passion for hospitality and created Glory Hole Doughnuts.” Ashley learned this lesson well, and GHD delivers.

Glory Hole Doughnuts Owner Ashley Jacot De Boinod, Photo by Faces of Food

Ashley first graced the world with her glorious creations as a wholesale kitchen in Kensington Market. It took her a little while to find a permanent home, braving some “wacky” landlords along the way. After seven months of looking, she was able to find GHD’s first permanent home in Parkdale where it has been running for 9 years. By 2018, it was time to expand.

Ashley grew up near Coxwell and Gerrard, attending Bowmore and Malvern schools. She was looking for a second location, and was feeling discouraged after losing a few possibilities to larger companies. Without a particularly helpful agent, she decided to strike out solo and explore a few potential parts of town. Her old neighborhood called her back, although she notes how much it has changed. Now we’re the lucky home to her business.

The pandemic has been challenging on a number of fronts, and Ashley notes that the limitations on support for small business have meant that many of her friends in the food industry have had to shut down permanently. GHD has been able to operate as a takeout space, staying open pretty consistently through the ups and downs of Ontario’s policies. She wanted the model to be flexible, but most of all safe. Author can confirm: I’ve stood in a well-spaced and quickly moving line on a Saturday morning, before stepping into a carefully constructed exterior vestibule to order from a friendly staff member. “It’s still so strange,” says Ashley. “But, at the very least, we are able to survive.”

Difficult customers have made things hard on her staff, with the occasional person being downright abusive. Her staff have stayed true to themselves through it all. “I’m incredibly proud of all of our staff. Being able to come in with a positive attitude everyday and work through a pandemic when not all customers are kind? That’s something to be proud of and must be acknowledged.” Ashley also draws inspiration from the way the city has come together. “There have been moments of extreme kindness amongst our communities and all over the city really. It gives us space for hope and reminds us that we are all in this together.”

Ashley is affectionately protective of her team, and of the kindness and inclusivity that is fundamental to GHD. “Everyone is genuinely welcome,” says Ashley. “GHD is also a dedication to all Food Industry people who have felt mistreated at one time or another during their careers… There’s no screaming you traditionally hear about and we work more collaboratively. Everyone is genuinely welcome.”  

This culture is evident internally and externally. The Gerrard Street shop windows proudly display “Black Lives Matter” signs and calls for justice, interspersed with brightly colored decorations and seasonally oriented menus. Ashley is humble about the growth that she and GHD have experienced over ten years. With an aspirational but proud tone, she points to the culture as a defining characteristic of the business. “I think I’m most proud of the shop culture I’ve worked so hard at creating. It wasn’t easy as I was still young when I started GHD and I myself still needed some fine tuning. It’s always been about changing the narrative in our industry. Being fully inclusive, and continuing to grow through challenges. Our spaces are environments where everyone can be their true authentic selves, or at least that is the hope. It’s taken almost a decade but I finally feel like the shops are where I’ve always wanted them to be.”

Glory Hold Doughnuts is a shop where this culture is felt, strongly, even from the sidewalk. It makes you want to come back. Aaron and I have now turned meandering down for a doughnut into a weekend ritual, and have been delighted with each new thing we try. So far his favorite is the Vanilla Sprinkle, although stand by for an update as the Toast and Butter doughnut is next on his list to order. Mine is the Strawberry Rhubarb Jam filled doughnut, available on their Spring seasonal menu. (Although I’ll be eagerly awaiting the return of the London Fog filled when it gets chilly again… yum.)

As for Ashley? The coffee cake doughnut and lemon ricotta doughnut holes are up there. But mostly… “I love my dough,” Ashley shares. “Especially straight out of the fryer.”

Count. Us. In.

Photo by Sarah Plufg

JDavis Painting: Sometimes the adventure really is your own backyard

When Aaron and I moved to this neighborhood, one of the things we loved was our own little backyard. It’s not huge, or especially fancy. (Okay, it’s basically a dirt patch.) But we’ve grilled with visiting family, played with our rescue Mara (and previously, our cat Sam), and done our best to grow green things. We spent basically all of last summer in our two muskoka chairs, reading and talking and listening to music. It’s our happy place. And in the last year, we’ve needed a happy place.

A sign I found for our backyard

As the stay at home orders keep rolling in, we’re heading into year two of being in our living spaces all. the. time. (That is, those of us who can stay home.) Like most people, we are a combination of stir crazy and mildly anxious about ever having to re-enter the world. So we were delighted when we found out two friends had moved in just a few backyards down, within shouting distance over our back fence.

Jeff McLeod and his partner Kirstyn are new neighbors here at Coxwell and Gerrard, although Kirstyn grew up just nearby – a little ways up Kingston Road. So when Jeff wanted to launch a residential painting business, Kirstyn suggested they start marketing JDavis Painting on the street where she grew up. Very humbly, and pre-pandemic, they started knocking on doors.

Jeff and Kirstyn of JDavis Painting

“She was totally right,” says Jeff. Kirstyn noted there was a lot of neighborhood pride, where people loved their homes. Based on referrals from their work, it quickly became their hub to grow the business. They loved the area. So, they decided to live here, too, following their business to make the community their own.

It’s that same love of home that has helped the business grown during difficult times. Jeff says many of their customers are folks who say “If we can’t go have a beer on a patio, let’s make our backyard a place we really really really like being.” In that respect, it’s been a banner year for home improvement. And Jeff’s animating belief is that the home improvement process itself should be a happy adventure. He ruefully chuckles that a trade contract can be a real nightmare, but notes that his aim is to make it a “fun and exciting experience” for his customers. Jeff previously ran a painting business in B.C. and builds from those years, following professional project management over a major Heritage project in Toronto. Speaking of his customers, Jeff says “We want you to be excited about us being there.”

But, like all industries, they’ve still had to roll with the punches through unpredictable lock downs of varying severity. The first round of restrictions in March 2020 were the worst. It was the most restrictive, and the biggest shock to the system. “Being new to everything, we didn’t know how to navigate,” Jeff shares. “We shut our doors, just after launching. It was very discouraging.”

Since then, they’ve gotten into a better groove, evolving their practices over time and responding as we understand the pandemic better. They have formal safety protocols, can delivery confidently and convey that confidence to their customers. In the last few months, they’ve still had some challenges, particularly during the most recent spike. And Jeff cares deeply about providing full-time work for this team as a foundation of the business.

Especially under the circumstances, Jeff is very proud that they’ve been able to build a business that employs people. He notes that his team largely consists of skilled people whose industries have been hurt, “The pandemic has pushed them out of work.” His employees include a professional musician, a former restaurant owner, highly competent recent grads, and professionals from the TV and movie industry. He even has some professional set builders.

With of all the ups and downs, hard work, and change, Jeff says one of the things that makes him the most proud is how he and Kirstyn have grown together. Early in the pandemic, he’d already used a significant amount of savings launching the business, Kirstyn was laid-off from her job working on travel and events. “It was a scary time. I love that we were able to solve the problem,” Jeff says. “We were able to generate business, create meaningful employment for good people. I’m proud that as a couple, we could be stronger.”

Furballs Pet Stuff: Four-legged Friends Also Need Adventures

Our four-legged friends need some adventures, too, am I right?

For our recently adopted Mara, a stroll down to Gerrard definitely constitutes exploration. Compared to our quiet side street, there is so much to smell, so much to try to eat off the sidewalk (DROP IT, Mara!), and so many new humans. As a rescue pup, she still has some stranger danger. So the line between SO excited and maybe a little bit anxious is very thin, especially if Mom or Dad gets crazy and takes a turn going into a store for a minute. (Looking nervously at the remaining leash holding parent… “They’re coming back, right?!”) Just buying cheese curds, baby girl. Mama needs treats, too.

Mara waiting patiently, like the good girl she is. Mostly.

But Furballs Pet Stuff is there for Mara.

And Mara LOVES it. As Aaron asks questions about the best food for this health issue or what snacks to give her, the staff offer thoughtful advice while quietly (and with permission) offering Mara treats under their COVID prevention “aquarium” created for safe shopping. Offering free delivery and curb-side pick up through the worst moments of the pandemic, Furballs has created a comforting bubble for customers and staff even when things are relatively open.

Owner Eva Eiduks started in television. When it was time for a career change, she wasn’t quite sure what to do next and started spending time with creatures she loved. Eva started dog walking. Living near Coxwell and Gerrard, she soon realized that there was a need for a pet store for neighborhood families who otherwise had to venture up to the Danforth or down to Queen. She also loved her fur-clients, but was excited to start working with people again, too. Eva opened Furballs ten years ago, offering a range of products that might be difficult to find elsewhere. She’s especially proud that they can hunt down specific items that people need with a personal touch. And she takes care to offer a range of choices, from standard kibble to raw food and more natural options. Eva chuckles describing a favorite product, the P.L.A.Y. Pet’s “Commuter Set” complete with a London Double-decker bus. It’s clear her business genuinely brings her joy.

And while she loves her fur babies, the people have been one of the things keeping her going during the pandemic. Her staff are warm, knowledgable, and talented. Geo makes his own cat toys, and Maureen can fix almost any dog jacket (or anything else, really) with her needle and thread. They’ve been calm during tense times, keeping their cool and holding firm with the occasional anti-masker. And Eva describes her customers as no less than phenomenal. “They’ve been so lovely, so generous, and so loyal.” Thinking about them frequently brings tears to her eyes.

Owner Eva Eiduks at Furballs Pet Stuff on Gerrard

This has been critical given the challenges of operating a retail business during sometimes unpredictable closures. Eva wishes the logic were more clear for why some things are open and others closed, why the focus isn’t more targeted to prevent and address outbreaks. “I wouldn’t want to be [in the government’s] shoes, and I don’t mind running a business [safely] but I wish it was more clear.” In the meantime, business is good but takes ten times the work for the same result. In the past, people could wander through the store and choose what they liked. Now staff painstakingly select items for customers, offering choices through the aquarium window. Eva doesn’t love using the computer and much of their supply orders are now online. She misses conversation with sales representatives and lingering regulars making small talk. She’s grateful for booming delivery requests, but it is a lot to keep up with and lacks the personal touch that she enjoys delivering from her small business.

As we wrap up Mara’s excursion, the best thing about Furballs is very clear. Mara feels safe and happy there, the staff sneaking her one more treat are immediately trustworthy even in her rescue dog risk-aversion mind. Mara looks back at me, “Still figuring out the rest of those people, but this lady is definitely a friend. Can we play with her more?” Yes, baby girl. Just as soon as we can.

Luminosity 2021

With the recent shut downs in Ontario, it’s made it a bit harder to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Luminosity’s final weekend gives us a small glimpse. Closing this Sunday, April 11, the 8 installations brighten Queen Street East from Eastern Avenue to Victoria Park. Ranging from a joyful piano to a warmly beating heart, a pop art collection of cakes to a drift wood loving figure, this series is as diverse as it is compelling. Enjoy a short preview below – but none of these photos can do justice to a late night local adventure in person. We miss city life, too. But, thanks to the Beaches BIA, Luminosity gave us a glimpse and a glimmer into what we know is waiting on the other side.

If you’re heading down, wear a mask, keep your distance! Learn more about the artists and follow along the map here.

  • “88 Keys of Light” By Kristyn Watterworth and Edward Platero
  • “Chee-Win” by Jungle Ling
  • “Chee-Win” by Jungle Ling
  • “Headlights” by Collective Memory, including Robert Mckaye and Stoyan Barakov
  • “Headlights” by Collective Memory, including Robert Mckaye and Stoyan Barakov
  • “Headlights” by Collective Memory, including Robert Mckaye and Stoyan Barakov
  • “Sugar Mountain” by Rhonda Weppler and Trevor Mahovsky
  • “Light Tree” by Opus Art Projects, including Laura Wood and Dawn Tyrrell
  • Intermission! Ice cream. Yum.
  • “Beacon Silo” by Chris Foster
  • “Out From Under the Shadows” by Bryan Faubert
  • “Share the Love” by Thelia Sanders Shelton

You can also hear directly from the artists (and see the pieces if you missed them!) in this video tour:

And even if you missed Luminosity, you may notice the Glowing Hearts dotting shop windows throughout The Beaches. Provided by Luminosity partner Moss LED, these warm and home-sized installations show the love for front line workers, healthcare heroes, and live entertainment professionals. Purchases support Michael Garron Hospital Foundation here in our own backyard. (We ordered one this week!)

Neighbors, we know these days feel dark. But, in the words of our favorite wizard, “‘Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.”

Dumbledore, here on the East End of Toronto, we really are trying our best.

Eulalie’s Corner Store

Eulalie’s is the neighborhood bar everyone wishes was in their neighborhood. Luckily for us, it’s in ours.

We first spotted Eulalie’s while driving to work. Since we live just north, we’d occasionally come down the one-way street and past their patio. Of course, at 8am, it was pretty sleepy. So, it took us a few months before we set out on foot one evening to remember which side street we needed to wander down. Answer: Ashdale, tucked next to neighborhood mainstay Kohinoor Foods. Also: Well worth the walk.

Right across from the library, it has a definite community feel. There are green leafy plants growing in pots and jars, nestled in here and there. Bamboo poles and bistro lights lend it a secluded tucked away feeling. Eclectic design elements feel familiar and fun. Large colorful water cups are borrowed from a Saturday afternoon on the family deck.

Aaron at Eulalie’s in a simpler, maskless time.

And the food, brews, and drink are…. amazing. I’ve occasionally ventured down just for a taste of the Mac and Brussels. (Again, very well worth the walk…) Aaron devours the wings. When travel was allowed, my Dad enjoyed a burger and loved the homemade ketchup. Everything fresh, nothing frozen, and despite a few efforts by regulars to attempt favorite dishes at home, difficult to replicate.

Chris Fleming bought this hidden gem three years ago, after working there for the summer as something of an audition. She was interested in owning a restaurant, a friend was the previous owner, but Chris didn’t yet know the place or its community. So, she offered to work there for a few months, to see if she felt like it was a good fit.

She got to know the regulars, people who live in the neighborhood. In the restaurant business since her college days, she had spent plenty of late nights in rowdy bars and was most struck by the kindness of her customers. As Chris connected with other friends in the industry, she shared that this was a key draw to the location. “I’ve never served nicer, more genuine people.” Seating a total of 75 people between the warm interior and bright patio, it was the right place for where Chris found herself in life.

At the end of the summer, she talked to her friend. “I love this bar. I love this neighborhood. So yes, I’d love to buy it.”

Chris Fleming, Owner of Eulalie’s Corner Store

The neighborhood was also a draw because, with the exception of summer festivals buzzing with energy, the patio is filled usually with people who walked there. “Everyone knows each other. Families with kids on the patio know each other. The people later at night know each other. Women come here by themselves because they feel comfortable.” (Author can confirm, would be totally comfortable.)

This community is what has helped Eulalie’s survive the pandemic, despite unreliable regulations on when the patio can stay open. Like other similar establishments, they were recently given less than 24 hours’ notice to open and then just weeks later told to close within a matter of days. Sizable fees from delivery services and the expense of to-go packaging make a take-out only model financially inviable – so Eulalie’s has needed to close its doors while weathering the storm. Subsidies have helped keep the business alive, but this round of somewhat erratic opening and closing has clearly been a blow. As a naturally positive, warm, and can-do person, Chris has rolled with the punches up over the last year. But for her along with most Ontarians, it now feels like things are floundering.

What makes her most proud in these difficult moments is the real concern and commitment of her community and her staff. Staff have been professional, patient, and kind through the ups and downs of the occasional maskless customer and while Eulalie’s doors open and close. A neighbor drove by recently to check in, saying that a group of friends were all thinking about how to keep Eulalie’s part of the neighborhood. “We need Eulalie’s!”

During our quiet afternoon interview, a few people walk by and ask how things are going. Chris helps me look after my rescue dog and gazes proudly across her patio.

We need Eulalie’s Corner Store. We absolutely do.  

Let’s Go Exploring

When I moved to Canada in 2019, it was something of an emergency measure.

I’d been a U.S. government employee for over a decade, focused on promoting human rights and rule of law as core elements of our foreign policy. This was a life that I enjoyed, found challenging, provided purpose and mission, and supplied plenty of adventure. I believed in the work, respected my colleagues, and never planned to leave. I’d walk into the entrance of “Main State” and see the soaring glass windows, vibrant and diverse flags, reverent memorials for officers lost, and familiar faces of colleagues I’d served with in trying conditions – now patiently waiting for an elevator. While detailed to the White House, I took care to exit the Einsenhower Executive Office Building via the Navy Steps each night, so I could take a moment to feel awe for this incredible place I worked. A colleague had advised, “If you don’t feel that magic each night, no matter what has happened each day, it’s time to go.” In a somewhat unpredictable world, this felt like my home.

The White House, viewed from the Eisenhower Executive Office Building Navy Steps

This was all rapidly upended by the election of former President Donald Trump.  

I knew fairly early that I would not be able to serve the Trump Administration with integrity. I’ll leave the “why” for another day, but it probably doesn’t take a lot of explaining. I believed him when he told us who he was the first time.

And so, heartbroken, I resigned. The day after inauguration, I was protesting in a pink hat outside the office where I’d regularly worked 14 hour days in the months prior.  Later that week, word of the refugee ban started circulating via Signal and WhatsApp messages.  Like many of my friends, I got in the car and drove to the airport that I had flown in and out of countless times on trips serving my country.  I made a sign that said “Welcome Friends” using a highlighter and manila folder that happened to be in my somewhat messy trunk, and bought a red, white, and blue mylar balloon in the airport gift store. With these meager supplies, I joined the throngs of protestors chanting “Refugees are welcome here” outside international arrivals. We didn’t know what to do, but we couldn’t sit still.

Dulles Airport 2017

Thus started the search for a new path, heartsick and lost and determined all at once.

First move was to New York. This had its benefits. Who doesn’t want to live in New York once in their lifetime? The “wear sunscreen” song told me to! Came out my senior year of high school! Many of my fellow government exiles moved to New York around the same time, and it had a feeling of liberation from and resistance to the tectonic shifts happening to our understanding of government and public service.  Nonetheless, those first two years were hard. 

Despite a macro feeling of displacement and the disruption of frequent work travel, a few favorite local spots gave me a sense of connection to my neighborhood, especially Two Saints, Lula Bird, and the phenomenal Brooklyn Museum.  (If you’re ever in Crown Heights, take a minute to check them out.) I’d moved a lot.  I know how it goes. You have to put in the work. And most of all, you have to treat your home like a place to explore. It’s so easy to take your home for granted – never see the sights, never try new things, always figure there will be more time.

But, as much as I loved my local haunts, I was still struggling. Talking with other folks who left government for the same reasons, at the same time, and with the same speed, I knew I wasn’t alone.  We all felt a bit lost, bereft of purpose, and we were all trying to figure it out.

I met Aaron in a corporate campus a few hours into New Jersey, just proving the point that nowhere should be overlooked as a potential critical destination.  After a meeting, we shared a car back to Newark so he could to fly home to Toronto and I could catch the train back to Brooklyn.  Again, Newark Airport of all places now feels nostalgic. You really can find magic wherever you are.

Less than a year later, Aaron helped me pack up my Brooklyn apartment into a U-Haul and drive towards Toronto.  We’d found a cute rental house walking distance to Little India at the intersection of Coxwell and Gerrard. And I ended up spending the 2020 election cycle organizing U.S. citizens living in Canada to vote from abroad. There are over 600,000 of us in Canada, bigger than some states. Wherever we are, we have to make it count.

Packing up in Brooklyn

Again, I’ve moved before, I know what you have to do.  It takes work and commitment and effort to build a community and home, a global pandemic notwithstanding.  The first weekend I was chatting with a shop owner whose niece was listening to our conversation. “Oh,” she asked. “Are you new here, too?” Yes, yes, I am.

So, here we are. Coxwell and Gerrard. Let’s go exploring.