November always sneaks up on me and is then somehow gone in a flash. One minute I’m debating which citrus looks the most in-season, and the next I’m staring down the end of the year wondering how we got here so fast. But every year, without fail, this month finds a way to slow me down in the best way. It gives me a built-in invitation to pause, look around, and actually feel grateful.
This gratitude isn’t flashy. It’s not the big standing-ovation moments (though I do love those, please keep doing that!). It is the small, steady beats in between. The notes between the notes. Sign up for my newsletter here!
The Special Sauce that is Gratitude
Lately, I have been thinking about gratitude the same way I think about a good sauce. When you first start a bolognese, it hardly looks like anything. For the first hour or two, it is just some hot tomatoes and crumbled meat doing their best. But if you let it sit, if you give it time, if you trust the process, something shifts. After two or three hours, the flavors deepen, the texture changes, and the whole thing transforms into something richer and more intentional. Something that could not have existed without patience.
Gratitude works the same way. There are quick versions you can grab when you need something fast. They can help in a pinch, the same way a jarred sauce can. But the real thing, the kind of gratitude that actually nourishes you, takes time. It needs repetition and attention. It needs practice.
Where Gratitude and Sauce are Showing Up for Me Lately
- Fresh pasta with a quart of bolognese pulled from the freezer that I canned a few months ago.
- My weekly pre-rehearsal walk up and down Valencia Street on Monday nights, hunting for new coffee shops and restaurants. (Check out Sa Waan on 16th Street. Order the Crab Fried Rice. Do not fear the spicy sauce. Thank me later!)
- Shared moments in rehearsal that remind me that music is sometimes about pitches and rhythms, but it is always about people, community, connection, breath, and humanity.
- Messages from folks who connected with our music, were inspired by a cooking video, or left a rehearsal, performance, or dinner party saying, “I really needed this today.” Me too, friend. Every time.
- It is community simmering into something stronger simply because we showed up and stayed long enough for the transformation.
Gratitude as Patience and Practice
Gratitude, like a good recipe, asks for patience. It asks us to stay with the moment long enough for it to reveal something deeper. It asks us to soften. It asks us to notice the good even when the world feels heavy, even when life feels too loud, even when the to-do list looks impossible.
I am especially grateful for this community. For the people who show up, who sing, who listen, who read these reflections, who share their stories, and who remind me that nothing meaningful is created alone. This is the heart of both music and cooking. You start with simple ingredients, you give them time, and together they become something far greater.
Looking Forward
As we move into a season that can feel chaotic, sparkly, exhausting, joyful, or all of the above, I hope you find moments that ground you. I hope you find people, foods, or wines that make you feel lucky to be where you are. I hope you find time for the slow things. The things that change you if you let them.
If you are reading this, know I am grateful for you and for being part of this little corner of connection. Whether you visit for the music, the food, the wine, the reflections, or the creative process, I am glad you are here.
Here is to a season filled with warmth, reflection, and one or two over-the-top kitchen experiments. May your sauces be slow and your gratitude deep.
Cheers,
Jake
