From Apprentice to Graduate: An Unfiltered Look at My Culinary School Experience

After what feels like a whirlwind of dedication, hard work, and countless hours in the kitchen, I am thrilled to announce that I have officially completed culinary school! Fifty intensive weeks, 720 hours spent meticulously learning in the classroom, over 90 detailed culinary school blog posts documenting the journey, more than 1,000 demanding restaurant work hours, and yes, a fair share of cuts and burns later, this incredible chapter has come to a triumphant close.

In the spirit of celebrating this momentous achievement—with my graduation ceremony taking place this coming Friday, December 14th—I wanted to compile a comprehensive overview of my entire culinary school experience. Consider this a deep dive into the best and worst of times, where I’ll openly share all the candid details. From the absolute favorite dish I created during the program (and, of course, the one I truly detested!), to the most unexpectedly awkward day at school, and even the moments that tested my limits and proved to be the hardest over the past year. This post is a genuine reflection, offering an honest perspective on what it truly means to pursue a culinary education.

So, let’s take a {very long} and memorable walk down memory lane, exploring the highs, the lows, and everything in between.

Biggest Confession

Believe it or not, if you had asked me what my primary concern was before embarking on my culinary school journey, I would have unequivocally stated one word: survival. Despite having some prior experience in a commercial kitchen setting, my knowledge was limited, and I honestly didn’t know what to expect from the rigorous program or, more importantly, from myself. The unknown was daunting, and the fear of not measuring up loomed large.

The self-doubt began almost immediately. Even within the very first week of the program, I found myself questioning whether I would possess the stamina, skill, and resilience required to make it all the way to graduation day. As ridiculous as that thought might seem now, looking back, it was a very real and persistent worry at the time – a sentiment many of my culinary school classmates could undoubtedly confirm. I was getting far too ahead of myself, already fixating on the intense restaurant externship component of the program before I had even mastered the basics of the first week. I failed to remind myself that I still had many months ahead to learn, to grow, to truly find my confidence in the demanding environment of the kitchen, and ultimately, to realize that I would, indeed, be perfectly fine. The journey was about progress, not immediate perfection, a lesson I learned early on.

Most Humiliating Moment

I fully anticipated accumulating my fair share of cuts and burns during my intense time in culinary school; it’s an unavoidable part of the profession. However, experiencing not just one, but two significant cuts within the first two hours of being in the kitchen was undeniably a bit embarrassing, to say the least. It felt like a glaring public declaration of my novice status, an immediate reminder of how much I still had to learn.

Imagine the scene: having to approach your stern instructor, sheepishly admitting your clumsiness, and then needing to have both wounds properly dressed. The ultimate indignity? Sporting two bright blue finger condoms for the remainder of the day, a constant, vivid reminder of my early mishaps, drawing glances and suppressed smiles from classmates. It was a humbling experience, highlighting the importance of precision and safety from day one.

To put this into perspective, since that initial embarrassing day, I have only cut myself twice during my entire extensive time working at the restaurant after graduation, and those were very minor incidents. This stark contrast truly underscores the significant progress I made in knife skills and kitchen awareness. It just goes to show, even the most awkward beginnings can lead to genuine improvement, transforming clumsy moments into valuable lessons.

Biggest Guilty Pleasure

Receiving my personalized knife bag, brimming with an array of shiny, professional-grade new knives and other essential culinary equipment, alongside my crisp, clean uniform, was arguably one of the most exhilarating and profoundly satisfying moments of my entire culinary school journey. It wasn’t just about getting new tools; it was about the tangible manifestation of a dream, a true rite of passage into the world of professional cooking.

Imagine that unique, almost childlike excitement of buying new school supplies at the start of an academic year—the pristine notebooks, the sharp pencils, the anticipation of learning—now multiply that feeling by about a thousand percent! That’s precisely how it felt. The weight of the knife bag, the gleam of the perfectly balanced blades, the pristine white of the chef’s jacket and apron—it all signified a monumental step forward. It was a powerful moment, solidifying my commitment and passion for the culinary arts, marking the true beginning of my transformation into a chef, and igniting a sense of belonging and immense pride.

Favorite Culinary School Trip

I genuinely never expected to embark on any field trips during my time in culinary school; the curriculum felt so intensely focused on hands-on kitchen work. So, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that we had two fascinating excursions planned for us over the duration of the program. My personal favorite, and a truly memorable experience, was our trip to Ayrshire Farm during our first few months of school. This visit provided invaluable insight into the origins of our ingredients, fostering a deeper understanding of sustainable farming practices and the farm-to-table philosophy.

The day was absolutely delightful: seeing playful baby piglets frolicking in their pens, enjoying truly exceptional food prepared with fresh, locally sourced ingredients, and sharing a short, enjoyable road trip with some of my favorite classmates. It was a perfect blend of education, camaraderie, and pure enjoyment. This trip offered a refreshing break from the intensity of the kitchen, allowing us to connect with the agricultural roots of cooking and appreciating the entire journey of food from farm to plate. It highlighted an essential aspect of culinary arts that extends far beyond just cooking techniques.

Favorite Savory Dish

Speaking of truly good food, if I were pressed to name my single favorite dish created during our entire time in the demanding culinary program, I would undoubtedly have to choose the exquisite Crusted Halibut with Olive Beurre Blanc. This masterpiece was prepared during our second week in Phase II, a period where our skills were rapidly developing and we were tackling more complex recipes. The halibut itself was perfectly cooked – flaky, moist, and tender, encased in a delicate, flavorful crust that added a beautiful textural contrast. The olive beurre blanc, a rich, emulsified butter sauce infused with the brine and fruitiness of olives, elevated the dish to an entirely new level, marrying perfectly with the subtle sweetness of the fish.

It was so incredibly delicious, my mouth is still watering just thinking about the harmonious blend of flavors and textures. Beyond its taste, this dish also wins, hands-down, for its absolutely stunning and elegant presentation. The careful plating, the vibrant colors, and the thoughtful arrangement made it a true work of art on the plate. Crafting something so visually appealing and utterly delectable was a profound source of pride, truly embodying the artistry and precision we strived for in culinary school.

Worst-of-the-Worst Savory Dish

Brace yourself, because this one is truly unforgettable, and not in a good way.

This rather sad-looking plate you see here proudly displays what I consider to be the absolute worst dish made during my entire tenure at culinary school—the infamous pan-seared calf’s liver. If you’re thinking it strongly resembles a deceased banana peel in both color and texture, rest assured, I am entirely right there with you. The visual alone was enough to trigger a sense of unease, but the taste, oh, the taste, was a whole other level of culinary challenge.

Throughout our rigorous program, there were numerous dishes I fully expected to dislike (purely from a taste preference standpoint) but surprisingly ended up enjoying. Let me state emphatically: this was not one of them. I genuinely tried, truly, I did. I approached it with an open mind, hoping to find some redeeming quality in its preparation, but it was just not happening. The strong, metallic flavor, combined with the unappetizingly soft and somewhat mushy texture, created a sensory experience I would rather forget. That entire plate, from its appearance to its flavor profile, continues to make me cringe to this very day, a testament to its unparalleled unpleasantness in my culinary memory.

Favorite Dessert

Choosing a single favorite dessert from the countless incredible creations in culinary school was a very tough decision, akin to picking a favorite star in a galaxy. However, if I must, my ultimate favorite dessert would undeniably have to be the magnificent Marjolaine cake that we meticulously crafted during our 12th week in school. This exquisite dacquoise cake was a revelation of textures and flavors, featuring delicate layers of crisp hazelnut meringue, rich, velvety chocolate ganache, and a luscious vanilla cream. Each bite was a symphony of crunch, creaminess, and deep, satisfying sweetness. It was simply amazing, a dessert so perfectly balanced and indulgent that I found myself utterly unable to stop eating it. The precision required to assemble it, combined with the incredible taste, made it a true highlight.

Of course, there were several strong contenders that deserve honorable mentions as runner-ups. These include the intricate Gateau Lion D’or, a marvel of pastry artistry courtesy of our exceptionally talented Chef Michel, which showcased sophisticated techniques and incredible flavor depth. And, in a surprising twist, Chef Patrice’s intriguing and unforgettable “death-bed wish”: basil ice cream. While unconventional, its fresh, aromatic, and subtly sweet profile proved to be a genuinely delightful and memorable culinary experience, proving that true innovation often lies in unexpected combinations.

Least Favorite Dessert

Is there truly such a thing as a “bad” dessert when you’re learning from master pastry chefs? In all honesty, there were really no objectively awful desserts produced during my time in school. Instead, I’ll simply share my least favorite dessert, a distinction primarily earned due to its demanding preparation and a texture profile that wasn’t quite my preference. This would have to be the rather plain-looking, yet deceptively labor-intensive cold nougat we created towards the very end of the program. Despite its subtle taste and somewhat chewy consistency, it still managed to be quite pretty, offering a delicate aesthetic.

However, beyond its taste, this cold nougat undeniably wins the award for the most tedious dessert to prepare. If any of you have ever attempted the delicate art of making paper-thin nougatine—the crisp, caramelized sugar and nut confection that often accompanies nougat—you know exactly the level of precision, patience, and sheer physical effort I’m talking about. The process involves incredibly hot sugar, rapid working, and painstaking stretching and rolling to achieve that ephemeral thinness. It was an exercise in endurance as much as it was in pastry making. In fact, if I were required to make this particular dessert every single day, I’m quite certain I would no longer need to spend $30/month on a gym membership; the strenuous workout provided by its creation would be more than sufficient to keep me in shape!

Funkiest Dish

Made only a few weeks into the culinary school program, when we were still grappling with foundational techniques, we encountered this rather crazy-looking dessert. It’s known as a King’s Cake, or more specifically, a “Pithiviers” cake. Its appearance is quite distinctive and perhaps a bit peculiar to the uninitiated eye, with its intricately scored puff pastry top resembling a sunburst or pinwheel.

Essentially, it’s a beautifully crafted puff pastry shell that is generously filled with a rich, almond-based frangipane cream. The contrast between the crisp, buttery layers of the pastry and the smooth, subtly sweet almond filling is simply divine. It genuinely blew my mind, not just because of its unique visual appeal, but also due to the delightful surprise of its taste and texture. Despite its somewhat “funky” or unusual look, it was incredibly tasty, showcasing how traditional French pastry can be both visually engaging and incredibly delicious, proving that you shouldn’t judge a dessert purely by its eccentric appearance.

Most Stressful Day in the Kitchen

While culinary school was filled with many exhilarating and educational days in the kitchen, there were, inevitably, an equal number of profoundly stressful ones. Practical exam days certainly fit into that high-pressure category, pushing us to our limits to execute multiple dishes perfectly under strict time constraints. However, the single most stressful regular classroom day I recall was undoubtedly this particular one. Nothing quite makes your heart beat faster, your palms sweat, and your mind race with anxiety than being greeted by an insanely long and complex menu at the very beginning of class. It wasn’t just a list; it was a sprawling, multi-course undertaking, requiring a dizzying array of techniques and perfect timing for numerous components, all to be completed within a standard class period.

To make a long story short, the day’s immense pressure, coupled with the sheer volume and complexity of tasks, pretty much ended with me breaking down in tears after service. The exhaustion, the accumulated stress, and the fear of not meeting expectations all came to a head in an emotional release. Ironically, adding to the day’s memorable (or perhaps infamous) status, it was also the very same day we made that incredibly tedious nougatine that I mentioned earlier, further cementing its place as the most challenging and emotionally taxing day of my entire culinary school experience. It was a stark reminder of the intense mental and physical demands of the culinary profession.

Most Dreaded Culinary School Activity

It is an inevitable and undeniable truth of cooking: when you create, you must then clean. While this might sound odd to some, I actually genuinely enjoy the process of cleaning and organizing in my own home kitchen. There’s a certain satisfaction in tidying up and bringing order to chaos. However, at culinary school, this was the one task, the one crucial part of our daily routine, that I dreaded the most. The scale of the mess, the professional-grade grime, and the collective responsibility transformed a usually pleasant activity into a formidable chore.

The dread was particularly acute when the cleaning task involved the dreaded stock pot. These enormous, heavy-duty pots, used for simmering bones and vegetables for hours, would accumulate layers of sticky, stubborn grease and baked-on food particles. Scrubbing these behemoths, especially after a particularly busy day, was a physically exhausting and often thankless endeavor. It required immense arm strength, endless scrubbing pads, and a level of tenacity that often tested my patience. The combination of their size, weight, and the sheer difficulty of getting them perfectly clean made it my least favorite duty, a stark contrast to the satisfying tidiness of my home kitchen.

Most Awkward Day

Sausage making day. Just those words alone often evoke a chuckle or a knowing glance among those who have been through a culinary program. There is truly nothing that makes otherwise professional culinary school students regress into fits of giggles and act like immature school children quite like the entire process of making sausage from scratch. It’s a combination of the raw ingredients, the somewhat suggestive machinery, and the bizarre shapes that emerge, all culminating in an experience that is inherently, hilariously awkward.

From stuffing the ground meat into casings using a rather phallic-looking stuffer to twisting and linking the sausages into their familiar shape, every step of the process seems designed to elicit snickers and inappropriate jokes. The visual effects are undeniably comical, and the tactile experience is unlike almost anything else in the kitchen. It’s an activity that utterly strips away any pretense of seriousness, leaving a room full of highly trained individuals momentarily united in their shared, uncomfortable amusement. There are truly no words that can fully capture the unique blend of fascination, repulsion, and outright hilarity that accompanies a full day of sausage making in culinary school. It’s an experience that must be lived to be fully appreciated (or squirmed through).

Most Unexpected

When I first enrolled in culinary school, I certainly expected to make new friends. After all, embarking on such an intensive shared experience naturally brings people together. However, I don’t believe any of us, at the outset, could have truly predicted how incredibly close we would actually become by the end of this journey. Our intimate class size of only nine students definitely played a significant role in fostering this unique camaraderie, allowing for deeper connections and a more familial dynamic.

But beyond the numbers, I believe it ultimately came down to the fact that we all shared an undeniable and powerful bond: a profound passion for food. This common thread united us, transcending individual differences and creating an unbreakable connection. While we each possessed distinct goals and aspirations for our culinary careers at the end of the day, that shared love for food, its creation, and its enjoyment, was a fundamental commonality that held us together. We’ve all shared a truly once-in-a-lifetime experience, navigating challenges, celebrating triumphs, and supporting each other through thick and thin. I know with absolute certainty that this journey would not have been the same without each and every one of them by my side. Their encouragement, their laughter, and their shared understanding made every moment more profound.

Yes, I’m pretty sure we all, at one point or another, found reasons to be annoyed or frustrated with each other, as often happens in intense, close-knit environments. But through all the demanding practicals, the stressful service days, and the occasional squabbles, a deep sense of respect and affection grew. I truly love these people; they are not just classmates, but a unique family forged in fire and flavor. The bonds we formed will undoubtedly last a lifetime, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

Stay tuned! Hopefully, I’ll be back very soon with a full recap post, sharing all the details and emotions from the official graduation day ceremony itself. There’s still one more exciting chapter to document!