I first met the entire Ambrook team at its inaugural party, celebrating the opening of our sunny, plant-filled SoHo office. I had just joined as a software engineer. Our CEO and cofounder Mackenzie, approaching every detail with intention and an eye for aesthetics, went on a vital mission to choose a worthy serving vessel for the party’s signature wine punch. While scouring nearby Chinatown, she spotted a large glass container filled with sea cucumbers and asked if it was for sale. The bemused shopkeeper dumped out the contents and with that, we secured the party’s finishing touch.
That party set the tone for me: mismatched chairs, candlelit nooks, quiet corners for deep conversation, louder ones for laughter. It didn’t feel like a typical company event — it felt like being invited into something warmer, more personal.
What struck me early on was how deeply intentional this team is and how that sensibility threads through everything we do, from hosting to building to how we show up for each other.
I’ve been organizing gatherings for years — dinners, salons, creative work sessions. Hosting has always been something I loved doing outside of work. But at Ambrook, I didn’t need to compartmentalize. I soon found myself stepping in to help — first with a playlist, then with absurd event ideas, and eventually hosting gatherings of my own. I’d found a team that saw curiosity, design, and careful curation not as extras, but as essential tools for building something meaningful together.
You can feel that philosophy the moment you step into our space. Plants trail from the windowsills. Candles sit tucked between books and mugs. In our first few months there, Jesse acquired some underground Pakistani mangoes — made famous by the award-winning Eater article on these elusive fruits that have yet to make their mass market debut. They arrived through a WhatsApp distribution network and made it to the Ambrook office where we gathered around the sweet fruit at the vintage wooden dining table we proudly sourced from Facebook Marketplace.
We’ve gathered people through events big and small. There was the Supermoon party on the night of the Beaver Moon, with required pre-readings for guests about beavers, a tarot card reader, and herbaceous elixirs. We threw an Ambrook Research party in Colorado to mark our presence in Denver and celebrate the launch of our podcast, The Only Thing That Lasts. Jesse cohosted another Ambrook Research party with The Food Section, featuring Southern cocktails and pickled heirloom watermelon our cohosts flew in from South Carolina. At another point, a fully costumed murder mystery night spiraled into a frenetic and extremely on-brand evening of teamwork and improvisation.
Last spring, I hosted an event highlighting ramps wild-foraged from Appalachia. Through serendipitous connections, we ended up collaborating with Little Poutine, a New York dining collective, and Stephen Pungello, a chef who’d worked at the Michelin-starred Dabney. Stephen spent the week leading up to the event foraging for ramps in Northern Virginia and hand-delivered them to the Ambrook office for the tasting. Little Poutine promised some light, no-fuss ramp snacks but in true chef fashion, showed up with suitcases of ingredients for a full, decadent spread of the leeky, garlicky delicacy.
The food was incredible, but it was the energy in the room that made it unforgettable. Dozens of New Yorkers gathered in our office to eat, drink, linger, and learn. The centerpiece was Stephen’s talk on ramp foraging, but the real magic came from watching people connect over a shared curiosity about food.
Last winter, I hosted an intimate PLG (product-led growth) dinner in our office, where operators from early-stage startups discussed challenges in self-serve onboarding. We kept it simple — our prized dining table, a single-threaded conversation, and a mix of voices from across the New York tech ecosystem. What stood out wasn’t just the shared problems, but the trust and focus in the room. That same attention to detail that we bring to everything at Ambrook came through in the seating chart, the lighting, the thoughtful moderating of the conversation.
Over time, I found myself wanting to carry that same energy into something more personal. One of the most meaningful communities I’ve built grew out of this space: a biweekly Sunday gathering designed for deep focus, shared curiosity, and creative exploration. Like Ambrook’s intentional approach to gatherings, this Sunday ritual embodies the same spirit of thoughtful creation. Each session is a structured format for creative exploration, where people dedicate time to projects outside their “work work.” What makes it special is the culture of curiosity and support that mirrors so much of what I’ve experienced at Ambrook. I’ve seen people return week after week to write, work on side projects, and invest in parts of themselves that don’t fit neatly into a job title.
The same environment that nurtures Ambrook’s culture has also become a catalyst for my own reinvention. I came in as a software engineer, but I’ve had the space to grow into a community builder — to exercise a new kind of creative muscle, one that shapes not just code, but experiences, spaces, and relationships. I’ve flexed that same curiosity and empathy into new corners of the company: joining sales calls, supporting customer success, and leaning into whatever the moment calls for. That’s because even with all this care, our growth has only accelerated — proof that craft and velocity can coexist.
At Ambrook, I’ve learned that building anything well — whether it’s a product, a community, or a company — starts with the same holistic foundation. This mindset hasn’t just made me a better host. It’s made me better at everything I build. I didn’t join Ambrook expecting to find a niche in gathering people. But in a workplace where the CEO handpicks a punchbowl from a Chinatown aquarium store, it’s hard not to follow suit.
