First Day at Le Cordon Bleu Paris | What It’s Really Like

First Day at Le Cordon Bleu Paris, What It’s Really Like

Ah.
I’ve been so busy.
Truly, insanely busy.
Maybe it’s because I’ve been living a bit too loosely the past few years.
After orientation day and the very first day at culinary school, I completely crashed. Didn’t even get to eat.

Paris—and much of Europe—is in the middle of a brutal heat wave. 🥵

Unlike the U.S., it’s rare to find places with blasting A/C here. At best, it’s slightly cool.

I never thought I’d miss that bone-chilling American air conditioning this much…!

When the A/C barely works in most buildings, you’d hope at least for a fan. But even that’s a luxury around here.

Thankfully, our apartment has air conditioning, so sleeping at night isn’t a problem.

The real issue is the kitchen. The dining room next to it has floor-to-ceiling glass walls, which are beautiful and let in plenty of sunlight all day. But by the hottest part of the afternoon, it turns into a greenhouse.

Even our poor herb pots couldn’t take the heat and had to be rescued and moved into the bedroom a few times. And that’s with the AC running. Without it, I can’t even imagine how unbearable it would be.

I do love Paris in the summer. The blue skies, the fluffy white clouds, the golden sunlight. But I find myself longing for fall, when we can sit together in this beautiful glass-walled dining room, light some candles, watch the sunset, and enjoy dinner and wine together.

There’s one thing I never forget to do before leaving the house in the morning. Take my allergy meds.

Paris is stunning in spring. Filled with every kind of blooming tree and flower. But for someone like me, April through June is less romantic and more… survival mode.

Watery eyes and a runny nose like a leaky faucet, relentless sneezing fits that take over my whole body, and eyes so itchy and swollen they turn into bright red fishbowl orbs.

Have you ever seen your own eyes puff up like a goldfish’s?

If not, consider yourself lucky.

It takes just over 20 minutes to walk from home to school. It’s not a long distance.
But about half of that is spent crossing the Seine under the blazing sun, with no shade in sight.
Who knew the mini blackout umbrella I brought from Japan would come in so handy? It’s small enough to tuck into my bag, and it’s perfect! 

I could take the bus, but from what I’ve experienced, Paris buses feel more like rolling saunas…  No A/C, and barely a breeze through the cracked windows. So I’d rather walk and catch whatever wind I can.

By the time beads of sweat start forming on my forehead and my back is soaked, I’ve arrived at the front of the school. But the journey’s not over yet. I still have to climb the stairs to the second floor, where the entrance is. Thankfully, it’s shaded, and with both gates propped open, there’s a bit of a breeze flowing through. Not the crisp, icy blast of an air conditioner, but hey—I’ll take what I can get. The light breeze against my damp skin feels cooling enough… for now.

Still, it’s not over. I dab the sweat off my face and neck with my summer essential, my handkerchief, and head up again, to the third floor, then the fourth. I think there’s an elevator somewhere in the building, but I haven’t seen it. Maybe it’s not meant for everyday student use?

By this point, the sweat is pouring like rain, and I’m out of breath. But the final challenge still awaits: the sauna-like locker room.

I wipe my face and neck one more time, take a deep breath, and open the door.

Gasp.

It’s stifling. The locker room A/C has been broken since orientation day, and it hasn’t improved since.
Now imagine—on a blazing 95°F day, crammed into this heat with dozens of other people, all of us drenched in sweat, trying to change clothes.
Can you picture it?
If you can, I’m sorry. 😅

But I have something even worse to tell you. 🫣

I got my period the night before orientation. I’ll spare you the details.
Changing clothes in that sauna locker room meant sweating even more, then running to the restroom to scrub my sticky hands with cold water in a desperate attempt to cool down. It didn’t help. Bathroom is HOT too!!! 😂
Maybe it was the nerves that set my stomach off.

Because no… it wasn’t just the heat.
That sweat was also cold sweat…!!

As if getting my period in the middle of a heatwave wasn’t enough, I also had some stomach issues… yeah, diarrhea.
Cramps in my back, a bloated lower belly, and this.
Absolutely miserable.

My first day at Le Cordon Bleu Paris…

Oh, why couldn’t my school life at 41 start off a little more smoothly…? 😭

A once-a-month special event paired with IBS… Both inside and out, I was a mess.

Is this my path to nirvana…? 😇

I try to get to school almost an hour early. Partly to cool down, partly just to recover from changing clothes. Once the weather cools off a bit, I’m hoping 30 minutes will be enough.

I figured I was just tired from everything. Starting my period, sweating buckets, dealing with a horrible stomachache… and on top of all that, suddenly having to follow a tight school schedule after years of living loosely on my own terms. Honestly, that’s more than enough to feel exhausted. Of course, I was tired.

But there was one more reason.
If all the things I just mentioned came from outside—reasons why I was exhausted, in pain, and overwhelmed—there was one final cause that came from within.
It was me.

I was just… too tense. For no good reason.

There are a lot of Korean students at Le Cordon Bleu Paris, and I was quietly on edge, worried they might recognize me.
Normally, being recognized wouldn’t make me this nervous. But after the Netflix show and months of cyberbullying, I’ve developed a kind of anxiety around Korean strangers who might know who I am… People I don’t know, but who might already have strong opinions about me.

If they love food enough to come to culinary school, chances are they’ve seen the show… and likely some of the ugly online content that followed, judging me based on edited moments and clickbait narratives. And now that same person walks into their school?
I mean, let’s be honest… I’d be curious too, if I were them.

I’m not naive. I know how rare and bizarre this situation must feel.
For the first time, I found myself wishing my name, “Seonkyoung Longest” weren’t quite so unique.

My stomach started acting up the night before orientation. I couldn’t sleep, going back and forth to the bathroom all night.
The truth is, I’ve always hated school—almost theatrically so. I never really adjusted during my 12 years in the system.

So, walking into a new school as a 41-year-old already came with its own weight.
But on top of that, the thought that there might be people who’ve already formed opinions about me—possibly unkind ones—before even meeting me?
Of course, my IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome—basically an anxiety-triggered upset stomach) kicked in. Honestly, under that kind of anxiety, I’m surprised it wasn’t worse.

I was already completely worn out before school even started.

After the orientation, there was a welcome party, and I thought maybe a sip of champagne would help ease the anxiety… But my guts were far from happy.

All I could manage was a few sips of water, just enough to avoid dehydration, and even then, I had already made three desperate trips to the bathroom. 🥲

My anxiety was at an all-time high.

I’ve never been the type to approach people first at parties, but that day, I just sat quietly in my chair, blankly watching everyone laugh and mingle, wondering when it would be acceptable to slip out without seeming rude.

And of course—because uneasy gut feelings always turn out to be right—it seemed like almost every Korean student recognized me.
No one was openly rude or hostile, not a single person.
Still, all I could do was wait for the moment to pass.

Once everyone had that moment of “Wow, she really came here,” I figured the curiosity would fade and things would settle down.

Thankfully, everyone was kind and warm. They smiled brightly, said hello, and a few even asked to take photos with me.
Looking back, I could tell some of them were holding back questions about the Netflix show—next time we meet, I’ll tell them to ask me anything.

I started to feel a bit better after that.
And two days later, my stomach finally settled, and the anxiety began to lift.

Our very first practical class at Le Cordon Bleu was vegetable cutting.
Back to basics.

To be honest, I actually enjoyed it. It was fun! (Though I totally dozed off during the demo, oops! 😪😅)
It had been a while since I last put this much care into my knife work.

Everyone (including the chefs) said the chefs never give a perfect score. They made that very clear to us.
Well… I got a 5 out of 5 on my very first practical. 😳 What?!

I guess the kitchen really is where I’m most at ease.
Even Robert Irvine once said it—“You were born to be in the kitchen.”

Even though my first day at Le Cordon Bleu Paris didn’t go as smoothly as I wanted…

It’s a new beginning in Paris.
My first time learning directly from professionals.
I want to cherish every moment—this city, this school, this chapter.

Time to give it my all. 😊

Thank you so much for reading “First Day at Le Cordon Bleu Paris | What It’s Really Like”. If you missed the previous From My Table post, you can find it here. I’d love to have you back for the next story. ✨