For the service exam, the candidate faces a table of masters acting the part of knowledgeable customers in a restaurant. They pepper the candidate with questions, asking for suggested drink pairings (not just wine, but beer, spirits and anything else that appears on a drinks menu) and which vineyard makes a particular wine. It’s a test of grace under pressure, as one has to deftly prepare the bottle while interacting with the “customers”. It’s nerve wracking and mis­haps, such as tipping over a tray of flutes filled with champagne and dropping an open bottle of red wine into the lap of a guest, are not unheard of. I try to tell myself it’s like being at work but, of course, it’s not: it’s much harder, because I don’t normally have to serve a tableful of master sommeliers.

The knowledge part is just as daunting. I’ve been poring over years of tasting notes, going through stacks of books and studying by country, production method and grape varieties, memorising maps, reading about spirits, cocktails, sake and liqueurs.

The blind tasting is a 25-minute race. You sit down with six glasses in front of you and three masters on the other side of the table, who mark your every word. What’s the goal? To dissect, analyse and articulate the con­tents of each glass.

First, the visuals. Is it clear? What’s the colour and how intense is it? Then the nose, which, to me, is the most important part as you can smell more components than you taste. Does it smell “clean”? Does it smell young (fresh) or old? What fruit, flowers, minerals and other odours can I detect? Then the palate assessment. Dry or sweet? Acidity? Tannins? Alcohol content? Any oak, and if so, is it a new or used barrel, and large or small? Does the taste of the drink reflect what you smelled when you sniffed it? Is it balanced or are some flavour compo­nents too strong? And when you swallow, how long does the taste linger on your tongue? It’s essential to be precise, as there are points for each correct assessment.

Then comes the conclusion, which is broken into two components. First, the broad conclusions. Is it New World or Old World?; the climate – cool, temperate or warm?; grape – a single varietal or a blend, and if it’s the latter, what might that blend be? What’s the age range of the wine?

After all that, you need to be even more precise. Do not pinpoint just the country the wine is from, but the region – some master sommeliers can even specify which vineyard a wine comes from. Then, what’s the appella­tion or quality of the wine? For example, if it’s from Bordeaux, is it the top wine of a chateau (Lynch-Bages) or their second wine (Echo de Lynch-Bages)? How old is it? What’s the ageing potential? Is it drinking well now or is it too young? How much longer will it keep?

So, how does one study for this? In the same way you get to Carnegie Hall: prac­tice, practice, practice. I belong to several study groups. I also visit places that have a good range of wines by the glass and ask the staff to choose six – no peeking at the wine list! I sit by myself and record my tasting notes. Then, once I’ve finished, I let them reveal the labels and see how well I’ve identified the wines.

So, that crazy lady you’ve seen talking to herself, with many glasses of wine in front of her, that’s probably me.