Since I decided to leave my job and start cooking for a living, today(9/1/2024) marks another life-changing moment that I want to capture in words rather than rambling in a TikTok video as I usually do these days.

After six months into my personal chef journey, cooking other people’s recipes began to feel exhausting. I wanted to improve. I wanted to understand the "why" behind each recipe's instructions. I wanted to create something unique to me, to present my food to my customers—not someone else’s. So, I decided to pause my personal chef work, flew to Tokyo, and enrolled in a culinary school.

Why Tokyo, you may wonder? Well, the historically low yen was one reason. Another was that I wouldn’t have to adjust too much to the city compared to moving to New York City and living alone there for the first time. With that said, I quickly readjusted to life in Tokyo, as if I had never left, and I was able to focus on making the most of my one year here.

Normally, school starts at 9 a.m. and ends at 5 p.m. In addition to that, I enrolled in special after-school classes where famous chefs come to teach their recipes. On those days, my classes ended at 9 p.m., which was the case for three out of five weekdays. On weekends, I worked at a sushi place in Shibuya. It was an unusual place, but I learned a ton during my four months there.

I was responsible for most things in the back kitchen, except for nigiri sushi, which was prepared at the counter by a pro. That left me with making rolls, miso soup, tempura, grilled fish, steak, and desserts, usually with one or two other people. The entire restaurant was run by part-timers with little to no supervision. It was a stressful environment because nothing was organized or planned. The hall staff were hostile and borderline abusive toward part-timers. Being in my 30s, I no longer put up with that kind of behavior, so I always called them out, and they stopped harassing me.

I gained valuable experience prepping sushi rice, peeling kuruma shrimp quickly, and making rolls. Yes, this sushi place was quite famous among tourists, so we had all sorts of American-style sushi, like California rolls, tempura rolls, and even vegan rolls. The main lesson I took from working there was how they optimized each recipe so that even those with little cooking knowledge could execute it. They compensated for not hiring skilled workers by using quality—but not high-end—ingredients, upcharging customers with a prime location and a nice view. Meanwhile, they paid workers minimum wage with no breaks, which allowed the restaurant to thrive for over 30 years. I was impressed but knew I didn’t want my future restaurant to operate that way. Unfortunately, I think that’s the reality for most casual restaurants focused solely on profit.

I quit the sushi place to spend three weeks during my summer vacation staging at a renowned French restaurant in Gotanda, Tokyo.

Before landing the gig, I was "Tabe-Aruki," or restaurant-hopping. I visited multiple Michelin-starred French and Italian places. To my surprise, I didn’t enjoy the three-starred restaurant as much as some of the one- or two-starred ones, or even a few without any stars. It all came down to personal preference I guess. I found that I really liked restaurants with clean and simple styles, high-quality local ingredients, and unconventional combinations of seasonal elements—definitely qualities I’d like my future restaurant to have. The attitude of the servers also played a big role. Since I was dining alone as a foreigner, there were a few places where I wasn’t treated the same as other guests, and that instantly made the food taste worse. I also realized I prefer olive oil-based dishes over butter-based ones and was surprised by how much I enjoyed well-prepared vegetable dishes. While restaurant-hopping, I carried with me a one-pager describing my experience and desire to stage during my summer break. That’s how I managed to land the internship.

The chef's restaurant was so well-designed and thoughtfully laid out. Everything had a purpose, and the kitchen was optimized with only 3-4 people, including myself, yet we were able to serve 20 seats without any issues. The shift was 10 am to 10 pm but with about 2 hours of break between lunch and dinner service. I was able to adjust to this schedule after a few days in.

The restaurant is a French establishment that’s been around for over 30 years. The chef had an incredible story, which I think is a part of why he didn’t hesitate to take me in. He started his cooking career later than most, at the age of 29. He was initially an athlete, pursuing the Olympic gymnastics team until he was 23. After narrowly missing out, he turned to professional boxing, but at 28, he was diagnosed with a heart condition, and his doctor advised him to stop boxing. Not knowing what to do next, he took on food-related jobs until he discovered French cuisine. He then went to France to learn, despite knowing little French. Eventually, he won over the best restaurant in Paris at the time, though they initially refused him because he was Japanese. He went there to eat every day for several weeks until the head chef personally invited him into the kitchen. That’s how his journey began. Staging isn’t a common practice in Japan, so when I was looking for a place, I specifically sought out restaurants where the chef had staged in France, hoping they would empathize with my situation since they had been through something similar.

Anyway, seeing the chef, in his 70s, still happily working every day was inspiring. He’s like the chef version of the main character in Wim Wenders’ Perfect Days. I was expecting not to be allowed to do much in the kitchen, but I was wrong. Besides helping with prep—like deshelling abalone, deboning fish fillets, chopping, and other small tasks—I also assisted with plating during service under the chef's direction. Whenever my hand is free, I hopped over to the wash station. In my last week, I was finally allowed to grill some clams over an open flame.

Chef really taught me everything without holding back. Seeing the ingredients I spent hours prepping end up on a beautifully plated dish, serve it to the customers, and witness their reactions to the dish explanation. Seeing the empty plates return to the wash station was incredibly rewarding because I was involved in every part of the process. It was such an amazing experience. People often ask me what I plan to do after graduation. I know I still want to cook, but I wasn’t sure if I had what it takes to work in a professional kitchen, let alone open a restaurant. But after working there, I could finally visualize myself doing it. I was there for three weeks, around 17 working days. I was even in charge of family meals a few times, and it was such a validation when they all loved what I made. They even said I could easily open a place in Tokyo and sell just that one dish, and it would do well.

Until now, I just thought I wanted to be better at cooking. I’m an unfit 31-year-old, and I never imagined being able to handle working in a professional kitchen. But this experience gave me confidence. Maybe I can pull it off. Maybe it’s not too late to aspire to be a legitimate chef.