I’ve fallen a little behind in updating this blog — these first couple of weeks have been a whirlwind! Our days are now filled with six hours of kitchen time, and it’s been an adjustment, both physically and mentally.
As I sit down to write about week two (while already in week four!) I realize I’ve grown accustomed to the unique exhaustion that comes from standing and learning lessons all day, squeezing in a quick lunch, and then heading straight into another class. But honestly, the learning is immense, and time has never felt so slow and fast at the same time. When I’m in the flow of learning something new and incorporating that into my own work, moving from one task to the next just feels like you’re completely present and energized.
Anyway, I said I was going to write about Week 2, so on to that, which is choux, choux choux!
Standard Choux Recipe:
Water: 125 g
Milk: 125 g
Butter (cubed): 100 g
Salt: 5 g
Sugar: 5 g
Flour: 150 g
Eggs: 250 g
Method:
In a saucepan, combine milk, water, butter, salt, and sugar. Let simmer.
Once the mixture reaches a boil, remove from heat and add the flour all at once. Mix well with a heat-safe rubber spatula until fully incorporated. This mixture is called the panade.
Return the panade to the heat and stir continuously to cook out excess moisture. The dough should pull away from the sides and form a cohesive mass.
Transfer to a bowl and let cool slightly. Gradually add the eggs, a little at a time, mixing thoroughly after each addition. Stop adding eggs once the dough reaches the right consistency (more on that below).
Transfer to a piping bag and pipe into desired shapes.
Brush with egg wash or melted butter and bake at 180°C (350°F) for 20–30 minutes, depending on size. Check for doneness.
Regular sized choux on the top tray brushed with butter and topped with nuts or dusted with icing sugar. Chouquettes brushed with egg wash and rolled in sugar on the bottom tray.
Lessons From a Week of Choux
I’ve attempted choux pastry before, very unsuccessfully, I might add, mostly because I didn’t understand just how dry the panade needed to be and how to be able to tell the batter consistency was just right. Practicing it every day for a week changed everything though! Here are some key lesson I learned that helped make my choux dough much better:
1. Drying the Panade
Cooking the flour over heat eliminates excess moisture in the dough. You’ll know it’s ready when it forms one smooth ball that doesn’t stick to the sides of the pan when you shake it. If the dough holds too much humidity, your choux won’t puff properly—it’ll stay flat instead of getting that signature hollow structure.
2. Incorporating the Eggs
Adding eggs back into the dough rehydrates it, but it’s crucial to go slowly. Eggs should be added in thirds, or even little by little, constantly checking the consistency. Our pastry instructor taught us three ways to tell when the dough is just right:
Ruban – The dough should have a smooth, ribbon-like consistency, similar to macaron batter. If it’s too stiff, it needs more egg.
Bec – When you lift the spatula or paddle attachment, the dough should form a “beak” at the tip.
Sillon – In French, sillon means the furrow left by a plow. Drag a spatula through the dough—if the line holds its shape before slowly folding in on itself, it’s ready. If it’s too stiff, it needs more egg; if it collapses immediately, it has too much.
3. Venting the Steam
This was new to me! Choux pastry creates a lot of humidity in the oven, which can prevent it from crisping up. To fix this, crack the oven door slightly (with a wooden spoon) 5 to 10 minutes into baking. This helps release excess moisture, resulting in a crispier shell.
Getting ready for assembly of the little nuns, aka religieuse.
With the same choux recipe, we created an array of pastries for the week.
Filled with chantilly cream. Cross section inspected to make sure pastries were properly filled, as quality patisseries should be doing. Eclairs dipped in chocolate glaze and filled with chocolate pastry cream. Religieuse topped with a craquelin, filled with coffee pastry cream, dipped in coffee ganache, and then piped with creme au beurre. Classic Paris-Brest is the Best. Drizzled generously with praline and piped with hazelnut mousseline.
Making choux in different forms for this week definitely felt like I unlocked a new level of achievement in the kitchen. We ended our pastry adventures that week with this excellent view:
Apparently the best view of Paris is from Montparnasse Tower. That is because you can’t see… well, Montparnasse Tower. (There’s some French sense of humor for you).
This past week has been a whirlwind, and I’ve been trying to find little pockets of time to stay connected with my loved ones, study more French, and prepare my meals. Mornings revolve around calculating how much time I have left to down my coffee before I need to leave for school. The walk takes about 30 minutes, though I could probably cut that in half if I took the train. But I choose to walk – it’s my time to breathe in the crisp morning air and observe Parisianson their morning commute. Since I live in a non-touristy area, people assume I’m French, or at least fluent, which constantly feels like you’re playing an undercover spy game.
A Magical Start
School has been both incredible and intense. I’ve never started something where, as they announced the curriculum on the first day, I got genuinely excited. Not ‘oh okay, I can do this,’ but ‘Yes! I want to learn that! And that! And that too!’ This must be my version of Harry Potter going to Hogwarts – except instead of magic, I get to nerd out about the art of pastry.
When asked about how to not gain weight when studying pastry, the pastry professor said, “Tasting is two or three bites. Anything more is classified as eating.”
What We Did in Week One
Getting our uniforms and lockers – Every morning, we change into our jackets, pants, and steel-toed kitchen clogs. As long as we’re roaming around in school, we need to be in uniform. Once we enter the labs, we have to add in hairnets, pastry hats, and aprons to keep everything clean. The transformation is real because once I wear that jacket, I feel like a pastry chef (even though I know little as of now).
Receiving our toolkits – And what a beauty she is! Opening it felt like Christmas morning. This toolkit contained everything we would need for school, all kinds of rubber and palette spatulas, knives, whisks, tasting spoons, cutter rings, digital scales etc. We learned how to sanitize and store our tools properly.
She is lovely.
Learning the rules – From how to greet and show respect to our chefs, to what’s allowed (and not allowed) in school, this was our crash course in pastry school etiquette.
Touring the campus and labs – We were shown where we’d be working, where the library was (yes, a library, the nerd in me internally shouts), little rec rooms to hang out in, bathrooms, courtyard where most of the French students smoke and hang out.
Diving into hygiene and safety – This was definitely an emphasis as we would be preparing food. Hygiene and cleanliness is king when handling food. If I’m going to be honest, the first quarter of our day would be spent cleaning our tools and the whole area itself.
Discussing the curriculum – This was when it really hit me – we’re going to learn so damn much. From the classic techniques to our final creativity project, everything seemed challenging but exciting. Oh yes, we also go on a lot of field trips!
Going to a chocolate store with the whole class… for research…
Discovering Lunches at the Cafeteria – As expected from one of France’s top culinary schools, even the cafeteria sets a high bar.
Soup to start, veal, potatoes, roasted veggies as an entree, and chocolate mousse for dessert.
Making Friends – of course, I don’t think I will survive this time living by myself if I didn’t already feel like I have a great group of people to spend this time with. The energy in our international patisserie program is friendly, eager, and collaborative – pretty much like an episode of The Great British Bakeoff. Just yesterday we stayed past 7:30 PM, exhausted and hungry, commiserating and laughing together before heading home.
Adjusting to a New Life
Back home, life was stable. I worked remotely at a cushy desk job, I spoke the language, knew how everything functioned – from grocery stores to the DMV. But moving to another country, even temporarily… that’s an entirely new rulebook.
This has been easily the longest week I’ve had in a while, simply because I’m constantly learning – even in the smallest things. How to take out the trash, use self-checkout, or turn my phone into a train pass. Nothing is on autopilot yet.
How I Spend My Free Time
When I’m not in school, I’ve been trying to:
Make my space feel like home – I’ve picked up a few things to make my rental cozier, rearranged some furniture, and taped photos of my loved ones to the wall. Every time I pass by, I smile, knowing they’re cheering me on in my journey.
Home for the next few months.
Find green spaces – Coming from the West Coast in the US, where we’re spoiled with open skies, sunshine, and swaths of greenery, Paris in February feels a bit dreary – concrete buildings (the most beautiful architecture, yes, but still slabs of gray), and rain. Luckily I’m sandwiched between two beautiful parks. This Sunday I spent time in one of them getting to know some of the local wildlife.
This fella was getting fed by the locals.
Cook more meals – as much as I’d love to eat at a different trendy cafe every night, reality (and my student budget) say otherwise. Plus, between rich cafeteria food and all the pastry tasting, I’d rather not fast track myself to sickness. Dining out feels more special when it’s social, so I’ve reserved it for weekends with classmates. The best part? I don’t feel FOMO because I know I have months to experience a lot of what Paris has to offer.
My latest masterpiece, tomato soup with grilled cheese. And toast and jam on the side LOL.
Stay in touch with loved ones – calls, video chats, texts – whatever it takes to stay connected.
A Tired, Happy Heart
By the end of each day, I’m exhausted and desire nothing more but to put my feet up on the couch. But it’s a good kind of tired – the kind that comes from learning, growing, and feeling like I’m fully experiencing life. I feel younger, more rejuvenated, and eager for whatever pastry school, and life, will throw me next.
I arrived in the City of Lights around noon of February 2nd. My Uber driver was fantastic — he came right to the spot where I was standing with all my luggage driving this massive van. I was praying that whatever vehicle Uber sent me today should just be spacious enough for all my suitcases (because imagine fitting my suitcase marked HEAVY in a Prius). Thank God. And Thank God he helped me with my heavy ass bags, even though he said “Oooof” in a tone that I assume is the universal language for “Oh my god, woman, what’s in here?”
Yes, I know I overpacked. I wanted to be sure I had all my creature comforts if I was going to live in another country so I basically packed EVERYTHING. In fact, I packed so much, one of the TSA agents who x-rayed my luggage commented to his coworker, “Damn, did she pack her whole house or something?”
First off, sir, no one asked you. Second, I could be moving to another country, which I am, so I basically needed to pack A LOT. Judgy-ass-TSA-mothertrucker….
Anyway, back to the excellent Uber driver who navigated through all kinds of traffic heading to Paris. It was a weekday at noon, and the traffic was still insane. Overall it took about an hour to get to my arrondisement.
Pro Tip: The best option is to take the RER (train) to go to the city, but if you need to take a cab and you’re lugging around tons of luggage like me, it’s better to use Uber or a taxi app called G7. Both apps give you a fixed rate when you book, and you can avoid getting scammed by random taxi drivers all calling out “Madam? Taxi? Taxi? Madam?? Madam??” as you exit the airport.
Madam? Taxi?? Taxi, madam?
Honey, I’m Home…
I got dropped off at my apartment and had to figure out how to use the building’s call box. Each apartment building has their own security code with numbers and letters that you need to know before the door can open for you. I also realized that I was staying in the first floor, which in France means one flight of stairs. (In the US, first floor = ground floor. )
Did I mention I overpacked? Even though it was just one flight of stairs, hauling big suitcases up those rickety steps was not ideal. But I finally made it inside my apartment.
I wish I could say I immediately felt at home. I did not.
The heat was off, the curtains were shut, and that one plant by the window was so dead it had basically turned into dirt. Also, things needed a little bit of extra cleaning. But, I managed to unpack and find homes for everything. Praise rental units that actually have enough storage space so you can organize your things.
My view from the couch when I got everything settled. (Not seen on photo: dead plant.)
After I puttered around for an hour, feeling somewhat settled, I realized I was feeling nauseous from a combination of lack of sleep and food.
My First Grocery Store Trip
My second mission now was to stock up on groceries. And horror of horrors, there was no coffee in the unit. For a caffeine fiend like me… that can be a dealbreaker. Yes, I’m exaggerating, but caffeine withdrawal is tough for me. Plus, I just LOVE the ritual of making coffee in the morning. Or in the afternoon. Or in the evening, because honestly, if I can get away with it, I would probably drink it all day.
Google Maps helped me locate the nearest grocery store, and off I went.
After picking up everything I needed– including coffee, ingredients for chicken noodle soup, some oranges and chocolates — i headed to the self-checkout.
Pro-tip: While American grocery stores will let you grab individual produce and either weigh it on self checkout or tell the cashier how many you’ve got (like three carrots), in Paris, you apparently have to weigh your produce in the section, print a sicker, and scan the barcode on the sticker during checkout.
Side note, don’t do what I did and stare blankly at the employee when they start speaking rapid-fire French to you until they finally give up and say “Vous comprenez français?”
To top off my stressful shopping experience, the machine wouldn’t take my credit card , and I had to scramble to pay in cash. Carrying cash with you is a must!
After finally paying and making the walk back home, it dawned on me that I was alone in a country where I could barely understand the language.
Chicken Noodle Soup
The whole awkward experience at the grocery store made me shy away from dining out that night and interacting with any French-speaking population in the foreseeable future. Instead I decided to cook myself some chicken noodle soup– for a few reasons. One, cooking relaxes me and makes me feel at home. Two, there’s nothing more comforting than soup on a cold winter day, especially when you’re jet-lagged and feeling inadequate due to language barriers.
I wish I had taken a picture of my soup because it turned out to be one of the best I’ve ever made. I used French butter to saute the veggies and opted for leeks, garlic, carrots, and onion instead of the usual mix with celery in for my mirepoix. It felt so warm and cozy to prep, stir the pot, and feed myself something hearty.
Not going to life, I was already feeling homesick by Day 1. I knew it was just a temporary feeling through. Discomfort is something to embrace — logically I know it’s part of the growth process. Still, it didn’t stop me from missing home, missing my partner, missing the ease of communicating and expressing myself.
Why again did I think this was a good idea?
Day 2
Day 2 turned out to be MUCH better than Day 1. I still only got three hours of sleep the night before, so I’ve been running on caffeine for the last few days.
To help myself adjust, I forced myself to get out and explore. Instead of staying inside, I soaked up some sunshine and walked around the neighborhood even though my body just wanted to be in bed. Honestly if I didn’t push through, I would have slept from 1 PM to 10 PM on my first days and there’s no fun in that right?
Sunbathing spots for everyone.
I went to Jardin du Luxembourg, I sat by the fountain and watched people soaking up the sun like myself. I treated myself to some decadent hot chocolate and did more people-watching.
The one time I passed up coffee and chose something else.
Oh and bird-watching too. (The birds here are definitely some characters!)
Sassy boy.
I also stopped by a plant shop to replace the dead plant in the corner of my apartment (which I’m beginning to think was the source of my bad juju on the first day). This cute little thing called out to me, and I’ve since named him Plantypus — he’s my new apartment companion. I also chatted with the plant shop owner (me in my broken French and him with his better than average English), and it was surprisingly fun. He told me how to care for Plantypus and asked where I was from.
Plantypus has taken over dead plant’s old pot.
I walked some more and found a shop that sells only meringues. Naturally I grabbed a bunch of macarons and got the employee’s recommendations for flavors. (Spoiler: They were all delicious.)
I’ve been trying to hold off buying sweet things as I will have a LOT of these at school, but I could not help myself with these.
Next, I visited Parc Mountsouris, a lovely park where I sat on a bench and saw some cute interactions. A kid kept peeking and smiling at me shyly while his father wasn’t looking. An old lady tried to yell and catch up to a couple who dropped their umbrella without them being aware. Unfortunately she could not walk as fast as they could and they also couldn’t hear her as they were listening to music! So I did the reasonable thing being a younger able-bodied nerdy do-gooder and picked up the umbrella and ran after the couple to return it.
The old lady thanked me and said more things in French, and I apologized for my limited French. She smiled and switched to English, saying “Thank you for doing that. I was trying to call out, you know, but they couldn’t hear me!”
Enjoying the last rays by a bench before the sun sets.
On my walk home from the park, I discovered a very long avenue specifically designed for walkers; where the path was wide, lined with lamp posts and trees. It made me appreciate the thought they put into making their city beautiful and walkable.
Day 2 was me wandering around aimlessly, with no agenda, and stumbling upon some great shops and hidden gems in the neighborhood. I had a handful of sweet interaction that made me feel a little less far from home.
Paris definitely felt a lot more friendly today. 🙂
The Wren's Journey 