Behind the Scenes: Culinary School in Paris
Thoughts on my time at Le Cordon Bleu Paris thus far…
Hello! Thank you to the three of you who are reading this (hi Mom, Dad and Michael!). Writing this post and creating this website has been on my To Do list for months, but alas I am just getting to it now, more than 2/3 of the way through my program.
I have been doing a lot of living in the past six months since I moved to Paris to pursue a lifelong dream of mine – attending culinary school at Le Cordon Bleu. Life has thrown quite a lot my way in that time; I have navigated a long-distance relationship, had to fly home unexpectedly when Michael had a terrifying reaction to surgery, my beloved dog Louis passed away, I severed my finger (more on that later) and was out of the kitchen for weeks as I recovered from reparative nerve surgery, and my dad went through a harrowing battle with sepsis that nearly cost him his leg and his life. And yet, I have simultaneously never felt more confident that I am on the right path. I’ve made incredible, lifelong friends, dined at some of the world’s best restaurants, gone to a new museum and farmer’s market every week, and delighted in the daily pleasures of living in Paris. I guess that’s life for you – you can’t have the good without the bad!
Over the past few weeks, as I’ve psyched myself up to write this, I’ve reflected on my time at Le Cordon Bleu thus far. It has been an unexpected journey in many ways (to say the least). In a plot twist that everyone (except me) saw coming, it’s been really hard! Like, really, really hard! Like, potentially the most challenging thing I’ve ever done. I know that sounds insane and outrageous to say – I’m rolling my eyes at myself even writing this, but it’s the truth! Moving to a foreign country and doing a technical course in an area you’ve only dabbled in as a hobby is hard work. Some things that have been particularly challenging:
The school is intense and the chefs are particularly mean. There is an almost military-like hierarchy that we must adhere to, and we are frequently reminded that we are nothing more than the lowest rungs on the culinary ladder (to which we must often repeat “oui chef!”).
Our class schedule is rigorous and demanding; we often have classes back to back for 9-12 hours a day, ironically without any breaks to eat in between. Classes are structured such that we have lecture-style demonstrations where a chef will show us how to cook 1-2 dishes start to finish, and those are followed by “practical” classes where we recreate the dishes we have been shown while being timed.
The recipes that we make are often dishes that I do not enjoy or have a particular fondness for (think veal sweetbreads, lamb stew, or kidney-stuffed rabbit – yuck). I wish there was a bit more creativity and international cuisine focus rather than a rigid adherence to French gastronomy.
I severed my finger in the beginning of the 2nd level (Intermediate Cuisine) and had to get surgery on my hand to repair nerve damage, forcing me out of the kitchen for two weeks while my stitches healed. I am ashamed to admit that I actually didn’t even cut my finger in class. I came home after a particularly long and tiring day at school and was opening a pull-top can of tuna when I nearly sliced my finger clean off. Navigating the healthcare system in a foreign country, in a foreign language was one of the most challenging things I’ve done since moving here, and had it not been for my friends here who sat with me at the hospital, cooked meals for me, cleaned my apartment, shared notes, and helped me practice recipes I’d missed, I likely would have had to drop out of my program.
I promise, however, that it’s not all doom and gloom! I simply want to relay that this experience has had its ups and downs and hasn’t always been the easiest thing to navigate. On the brighter side, some things that have brought me immense joy since moving here and starting this program:
I have learned an unbelievable amount about kitchen etiquette, cooking hygiene, knife skills, and fine dining techniques in a short amount of time. Even though the timed practical courses feel like I’m taking a test every other day of the week, I have noticed a profound improvement in my precision, instincts and speed at which I can turn out a complex dish.
Living in Paris!!!! Even though living in France can range from mildly inefficient to, at times, maddeningly pull-your-hair-out-and-scream frustrating, there is a romance here that does not exist anywhere else I’ve been. People are just in love here – in love with their partners, in love with life, food, and art, and in love with themselves and who they are. There is something about walking the perfectly preserved streets, letting your nose guide you to the nearest boulangerie while somewhere in the distance a street performer plays “La Vie en Rose” on the clarinet (seriously, this exact scenario happens to me about once a week). Paris is magic, and the slow, intentional culture around food, art, and togetherness is something I hope to take back with me when I move home to the US.
I have made the most wonderful group of friends from all over the world. I cherish these people like they are my family, and they are without a doubt the most wonderful thing I will take away from this experience.
Overall, moving here has pushed me to grow and stretch in ways I couldn’t have imagined. Each day has brought new lessons - from mastering French sauces to perfecting plating techniques to being dramatically humbled everytime I open my mouth to utter a single word of the French language. Living in Paris has shown me the joy in simple moments, the sweetness of spending time alone and loving it, and relishing life in the slow lane. I am hoping to take all of this with me as I get ready to leave this special place in a couple of months!
My hope is to write on here and share some (self-indulgent) thoughts (that of course no one asked for) over the next couple of months while this experirence wraps up. Stay tuned!
Love you lots, thanks for being here! Until next time,
Ava
