The restaurant’s name is derived from the Swedish concept of a BP, or “back pocket” casual gathering spots for friends—exactly the feel Samuelsson and his team are seeking to foster. “I want this place to be the black Newark Cheers,” says Marcus B&P general manager Chris Keys, himself a resident of the city. “Newark has this vibe and this feel of community—from the guy on the corner playing guitar to the seamstress making beautiful African garments. I wanted to feel like we were a part of that soul.”

For Samuelsson, it goes even deeper than that. Opening restaurants in neighborhoods with thriving black communities is woven into the fabric of who he is as a chef. He wants to create spaces that celebrate his identity and heritage, and to create opportunities for black people in an industry where they are still underrepresented in positions of power and influence.

“We are creating the next generation of hospitality and showing people of color that there is now a place for them that they can aspire to,” he says on a cloudless April afternoon in Harlem, as he greets guest after guest on the patio at Red Rooster. (The chef splits his time these days between Harlem and Newark.) Clad in a yellow and blue scarf, along with matching Nike high-tops and a red hat emblazoned with “Barrio” (Spanish for “neighborhood”), he stands out among the fashionable diners streaming in. “I am the most well-known black chef in the world. I don’t say that with arrogance—I say that thinking about what that entails and what responsibilities come with that.”

Samuelsson’s connection with black American culture can actually be traced to his international roots. Born in Ethiopia, he was adopted by Swedish parents at a young age. Growing up in Gothenburg, a city of around half a million residents on Sweden’s southwest coast, he was not surrounded by many people who looked like him—“To say the least!” he says with a hearty laugh—but his adopted parents went to great lengths to make sure he could explore his identity. He grew up listening to Prince, reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X, watching Showtime at the Apollo. As he learned more and more, he kept finding himself drawn to one place: Harlem. “It was the center of black culture,” he says.

It took him a while to find his way uptown, though. After attending culinary school in Gothenburg and working as a cook in Europe and Japan, he landed in Midtown Manhattan, at the high-end Scandinavian spot Aquavit. By age 23, he had taken over as executive chef, and rave reviews started rolling in. He became the youngest chef to get three stars from The New York Times and won a James Beard Award for Best Chef: New York City. This was followed with countless appearances on TV shows such as Chopped and Iron Chef; an award-winning memoir, Yes, Chef; cookbooks; and product lines. Still, Samuelsson felt something was missing.

“When you’re cooking other people’s food, it’s almost as if you’re not supposed to have an identity,” he says, sitting on the crowded patio of Red Rooster, nibbling on a piece of cornbread smeared with honey butter. “I was starting to think about the idea of what a black chef can look like and evolve like, what their food can taste like. I was always told in Europe that as a black chef, you can never own a restaurant—but I wanted to come to terms with my identity.”