My Journey to Becoming a Sommelier
The road that took me to become a sommelier was anything but a straight line.
It twisted through fights over dinner as a kid, a short‑lived love of biology, a quick exit from a big university, and then a deep dive into a hectic kitchen world.
Every detour, every stumble, every odd chance reshaped me.
It gradually built a strong love for wine, food and how we treat guests.
Looking back, each curvy turn mattered; together they gave me the knowledge, the curiosity and the modesty that made the wine professional I am now.
Where the love for wine began
I never grow up with grape vines or wine cellars.
No relative worked in a vineyard (sadly).
My first deal with food was odd: love‑hate. My mother cooked at home but never used sauces or spices.
She thought “pure ingredients” was enough.
The meals tasted plain, so I became a picky eater in elementary school.
Doctors mentioned I stayed the same weight from third to sixth grade and warned my parents I needed to start gaining weight.
Things finally started shifting when I spent more time at my grandmother’s house.
Her small kitchen showed how patient work and simple tools could change food.
I watched her peel potatoes slowly and toss a few herbs into a simmering broth.
That made me curious.
In my dorm room I started baking muffins and stir‑frying veggies just to feel lighter. The boring biology lectures at Rutgers that made my eyes always overly droopy. The chemistry class felt even worse; the idea of a “periodic table of life” felt far away when I could taste caramelized onions or the sharp bite of lemon zest.
That growing fascination pushed me to leave Rutgers after one year and sign up at The Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, often called the “Ivy League of cooking schools.”
The program forced respect for ingredients, technique and timing.
Inside those walls, wine turned up not just as a side drink but as a whole subject with its own chemistry, history and story‑telling power.
I soaked up every book on growing grapes, nailed the wine theory test, and felt a clear pull toward a career that could tie my love of food with a mental challenge.
It was there I first saw wine as possibly a lifelong calling, as liquid poetry.
Getting serious about wine
Armed with a culinary diploma and a hunger for vines, I landed my first sommelier gig at a modest yet storied restaurant in Gulph Mills.
That place held a special spot in Pennsylvania wine lore, it once employed the state’s only Master Sommelier, a pioneering woman whose strict standards were legendary. Melissa Monosoff.
Though she moved on, the owners stayed active in the Philadelphia wine network, which was super helpful for my own career.
The job shoved me into the tough world of sommelier studies.
Knowing grape types wasn’t enough; I needed to understand how winemaking worked, how soil and climate (terroir) shape flavors across continents, and the science behind fermentation and aging.
Every day meant palate training: blind tastings of Burgundy Pinot Noir next to Oregon Pinot sharpened my ear for mineral notes versus ripe fruit.
At the same time I soaked up history: the phylloxera pest that wrecked European vines and the trade routes that brought New World grapes to old‑world tables.
The learning curve was steep.
Yet the Philadelphia wine community (growers, teachers and fellow sommeliers) gave mentorship, shared papers and turned lonely hard work into teamwork.
Challenges and rewards of being a sommelier
The wine field is rewarding but also demanding.
A sommelier wears many hats: teacher who explains tannins to curious diners, advisor who helps chefs match dishes with bottles, service pro who makes sure bottle service runs smoothly, and curator who builds wine lists that echo market trends and a restaurant’s vibe.
At heart the role is about making experiences: helping guests discover flavors they never imagined and pairing wine to personal moment as carefully as a composer matches melody to words.
The path also forced me to face gender‑based hurdles.
The industry stays mostly male and a scandal (the Court of Master Sommeliers case) uncovered widespread sexual misconduct by senior male sommeliers toward many women.
Those revelations didn’t really shock the women like me in the industry, but pushed a call for solidarity among women in hospitality.
It strengthened my resolve to stop testing with the Court of Master Sommeliers.
Beyond the dining room, I mixed my love of wine with another passion: animals.
My first project Pairing Paws: Dog Breeds and Their Spirit Wines took three years of research, photo shoots and tastings.
I matched each breed’s character (the regal aloofness of an Afghan Hound or the happy energy of a Labrador Retriever) with wines whose aromas echoed those traits.
The second book How to Build a Wine List: Tips from a Professional Sommelier to Boost Profits got unexpected hits worldwide; I still get grateful emails from sommeliers in Japan who tried my profit tips on their own menus.
Right now the sequel – Cat Breeds and Their Spirit Wines – is set to be released September 17th 2025.
The journey continues
Looking back‑to‑back at these chapters shows a bigger picture: being a sommelier is a lot more than memorizing vintages or regions.
It is mainly about sharing that knowledge in ways that spark wonder, build connection and bless moments when the perfect glass arrives at the perfect instant.
From early confusion over bland meals to writing niche wine‑pairing books, each step cemented my belief that hospitality is an art of empathy expressed through taste and smell.
To anyone who wants to walk this road I have frank advice: expect a long, winding path full of study, setbacks and occasional smooth glides.
The apprenticeship can test stamina, as can the late‑night tastings after demanding service shifts, but if your heart beats for the craft, the journey will always feel worth it.
Remember wine is more than a drink; it is a bridge for stories, bonding and moments that linger long after the last sip has faded.
The path may twist, but it leads to places where flavors meet loves and memories stay forever.
