Since I was 8 years old, I found my special place at our home’s kitchen. And even until last December, I was just a small home cook passionate about eating well at preparing good food for my people in order to pamper them, to treat us, to share it with our friends and adorn our table, but moreover, it was for me, to enjoy myself, to de-stress. I was an expat who had to find a way in order to recreate the flavors from a faraway land which we missed and learn how to mix it with the new ones.
Firstly, I learned how to make tortillas. Before, I just had to go and buy them. Then, I searched for specific recipes for things I wanted to prepare, such as pan de muerto for the Day of the Dead, or Rosca de Reyes for Epiphany, or even tamales for February 2 to celebrate Candlemas. Lastly, I was courageous enough to prepare dishes from our new home, and I did so with a Quiche Lorraine just the way Mrs. Guyon (or Mamie Gigi for the grandchildren, a.k.a the mother of our dear friend Stéphane) does it, and then even a pot of Bœuf Bourguignon according to the instructions in the cookbook of the very important French Chef, Mr. Paul Bocuse. And it was just then, when I realized I was living in the Mecca of world gastronomy, and therefore decided to follow upon a childhood dream which I had ignored for almost 20 years.
The beginning was more than 8 months ago, and I can’t find any word which may better describe my passage by the kitchens of Le Cordon Bleu than a whole adventure in itself. I thought I had come to learn French Cuisine, and in fact, I learnt everything again from scratch. How to hold a Chef’s Knife and take care of any product since the very first Lemon Sole I found myself in front of, and which I had to cut to obtain its filets. A few months later, I was capable of deboning a whole chicken almost without any tears. I got to know new products and learned the difference between a jus and a sauce. Towards the end of the journey, I even had the courage to create new recipes.
And even when there has been a lot of acquisition, I am sure this is just the beginning. I have to keep on working, training myself to master it all. Evidently, I would have loved more training, more theory, more direction in plating, and more hours dedicated to matching wines with different plates, but professions are not just learned at school. One has to fly to become a pilot.
Life brought me to Paris for a specific reason, and while walking my own path, I chose to live this amazing culinary adventure. The diversity of nationalities found in the group of students made the classes richer, but thanks to most of the Instructor Chefs being French and evidently holding on to the savoir-faire of their ancestors, the training became unique in its class.
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