27 September 2026
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World Kitchen Journal
Going to Culinary School in My 40s
The Kitchen
By Jean-Luc Moreau, the Technique desk · Japan · 6 min ·

Going to Culinary School in My 40s

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Ingredients · Servings 2
  • 1 pack enoki mushrooms (about 5 oz)
  • 1 tbsp soy sauce
  • 1 tbsp gochugaru (Korean red chili flakes)
  • 1 tbsp sesame oil
  • 1 clove garlic, minced
  • 1 tsp sugar
  • 1 tbsp water
  • 1/2 green onion, chopped
  • 1 tsp sesame seeds
Method · 10 min
  1. Trim enoki mushrooms and separate into smaller bundles.
  2. Mix soy sauce, gochugaru, sesame oil, garlic, sugar, and water in a bowl.
  3. Heat sauce in a pan and add enoki mushrooms. Cook for 2 to 3 minutes until tender.
  4. Garnish with green onions and sesame seeds. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Going to Culinary School in My 40s — Preparing for My Next Chapter.

These days, when I sit at the table, a quiet excitement stirs in my heart. Maybe it’s because I know I’ll be leaving this familiar space soon… Even though it’s something that’s repeated throughout our travels, this time feels a little different.

In the last two years of traveling the world, we’ve never stayed in one place for more than two months.

When we first started, we were full of uncertainty and nervous questions—Can we really live like this? But now, it’s the settled life that feels unfamiliar to us. Luckily, this nomadic lifestylesuits us incredibly well—like a comfortable pair of jeans you’ve worn for a long time.

Our journey began when we left Maui for Jeju, and since then we’ve traveled through Hanoi, Singapore, Bali, Bangkok, Tbilisi, a 42-day pilgrimage across France and Spain, took brief rests in Rome, Naples, and Scottsdale. Unexpectedly, we then traveled all around Japan including Nagoya, Osaka, Kobe, Chiba, Fukuokaand then moved through Cebu, Kuala Lumpur, and Chiang Mai. And now, ironically, back to Hawaii.

My recent routine has been peaceful. Waking up in the morning and opening the blinds, I see Hawaii’s blue sky, ocean, and white clouds.

I pick up my phone and scroll through meaningless content before finally climb out of bed to decide what tea to drink today. While I rotate through different teas, lately I’ve been into golden milk latte.

I microwave a cup of unflavored, unsweetened soy milk and boil water in the electric kettle. I found this mushroom golden milk blend on Amazon, and surprisingly, it’s quite tasty. Turmeric and ginger are difficult ingredients to regularly incorporate into meals, so that’s another bonus.

I add a teaspoon of the powder to a mug and pour in just a bit of hot water to mix it. By now the soy milk is hot, so I foam it generously with a frother. I love this foam very much, so I make it very thick and plentiful. (I also love beer foam. Especially the creamy foam of Japanese draft beer in Japan—those who’ve tried it know exactly what I mean. There’s even a bar in Tokyo that serves a glass filled 99% with just that cream foam. Jacob always gives me his foam because he knows how much I love it.) The frother I bought on Amazon works surprisingly well. I pour the frothed soy milk into the mug with the golden milk mixture—and it’s ready, my golden milk latte!

While making this golden milk latte, I think about what to do while drinking it. Sudoku? Daydreaming? Chatting with Jacob? Reading a book? Studying French? Taking a sip of the golden milk latte, fills my mouth with soft, creamy foam, and it feels good.

You might be thinking, “What??”. I know, I know. Honestly, it’s a long story. To make a long story short, I’m finally going to the culinary school I dreamed of back when I first started cooking. The desire to live in Europe for a year might have been even stronger motivation, but that’s not the only reason I decided to go.

We fell in love with Paris at first sight. We promised ourselves we’d come back—not just to visit, but to stay. To live, even just for a month or two. And finally, in January 2025, we made that promise real. We committed to moving to Paris for a year and signed up for culinary school. Yes, you read it right. Your girl is going to culinary school. (in her 40s!!)

For years, I was proud to be a “home cook”. I feel valued to share “easy” recipes with the world and help people. But slowly, I began to feel the limits others placed on that label. My time on Culinary Class War on Netflix gave me a lot to think about—not just about food, but about recognition, legitimacy, and the strange weight society gives to titles and certificates. Because I chose YouTube as my career, some felt entitled to belittle my skills and the food I poured my heart into. I’m not doing this because of what people said. I’m doing it because I know what I’m worth. This is me choosing to take up space, my way.

I have no plans for what to do with the diploma. There’s a 120% chance I’ll do absolutely nothing with it. I first wanted to attend culinary school in 2011, around the time I started YouTube, but back then, I didn’t have the money. As winning cooking competitions, working in a casino restaurant in Las Vegas and YouTube took off made culinary school feel unnecessary.

I’ve always been self-taught—in drawing, cooking, filming, photographing, everything. I’ve never learned properly from a professional or at a school. Yet I’ve made it here on my own, by myself and I’m always proud of my self-taught journey. Throughout this journey, society has given me plenty of grief for not having a college degree or formal culinary training. But that’s exactly why I held my head even higher, proudly embracing my self-taught identity.

I could have taken my career in the direction of restaurant business and more complex recipes. There were plenty of opportunities. But I chose “helping people” instead—deciding to provide easy recipes anyone could make at home, offering a friendly and delicious meal for their tables.

Now, what I used to do can be done by many others, and I feel like I’m losing my place. The position I built for myself no longer feels like mine. I think it’s time to try something new. I don’t know what that is yet. That’s why I’ve begun writing.

‘From My Table,’ will be stories from the many tables I will face ahead. Thoughts on quiet days alone, brunches on days when our bags are packed, and all the anxious excitement in between—I plan to share them slowly from today onward.

Thank you for reading. I hope to see you again in the next story. .

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