What Do Sommeliers Actually Do?
Come with me to the restaurant and see the day in the life of a sommelier
The term "sommelier" literally translates to "butler," fitting for a role that involves anticipa freeting and catering to people's needs before they're even voiced. It's a bit like playing psychic - sometimes you just know a guest needs a pinch of salt with their meal. And top-notch sommeliers? They're like chameleons, effortlessly switching from flamboyant hosts to silent spectres depending on their guest’s needs.
Yet, the nuances of the job remain mysterious to many. Some see it as glorified sales, while others view it as a romantic calling. Truth is, it's a bit of both - just like wine, a blend of romance and practicality. So, let's take a peek behind the curtain into the daily dance of a sommelier.
Morning
It’s Tuesday; in theory my admin day, but it's more like Tetris with wine crates. I roll in at 10 am despite not starting until 12 and use this time to study, write, and read up on the wine world. There is a tasting later today, so this is the perfect time for producer research.
Come high noon, I'm tackling towers of Burgundy like a pro, mastering the art of cardboard acrobatics. I like the lifting and the grunt work of it; I sometimes carry these large boxes over my shoulder or on my hip. It brings a satisfying rusticity to the work and makes me feel strong. There are three storage spots to juggle, and I must ensure every bottle finds its resting place in time for service.
Afternoon
Afternoon rolls around, and it's a whirlwind of box-shifting and laptop multitasking. I'm creating buttons for new wines, wrangling with price lists, and tackling invoices. The tasting time comes quickly. We meet with an international representative of Chateau Angelus and the distributor representative. These wines easily reach four digits on the price tags but we aren’t only drinking for pleasure. Next to our glasses are silver spittoons that we use liberally to avoid inebriation at the impending dinner shift. Learning how to spit wine elegantly is one of the less glamorous aspects of this job but necessary when dealing with alcohol so frequently.
Post-tasting I rush off to a quick meeting with the beverage director which we keep short and sweet. I scoff down some delicious Thai curry, fix my lipstick and head onto the restaurant floor.
Evening
I love briefings. The team gathers, discussing service points, special occasions, and allocating sections. There's always a buzz of anticipation in the air. Once briefing concludes, we ready our stations: waters carafes filled and stocked, cutlery shining, tables centred and set, glassware gleaming in the light.
Sometimes I stand enjoy the anticipation of a fresh evening, but more often this moment rushes me by.
Tonight I run three sections, or roughly 18 tables with the help of 3 waiters. As the doors open, the venue fills with chatter and laughter. First impressions matter, so I make the rounds, ensuring guests are well cared for and introducing myself. As I find my flow, it becomes effortless dancing between tables, keeping the wine flowing and the smiles glowing. Second seating kicks in, and it's like déjà vu, but with fresh faces and new stories.
By the stroke of 10 pm, the wind-down begins. Ice buckets are emptied, wines restocked, and bins cleared. The buzz of the evening fades, leaving behind a contented glow. Couples cosy up in booths, the sated slump of shoulders and distant smile a common sight on these persevering stragglers.
Before midnight, like Cinderella, I hop on the tram, shedding my sleek suit for comfier attire. Addressing my cravings for a simple sandwich and the embrace of my bed, I drift off. Another day in the life of a sommelier, complete.