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Gertie draws an arrow in frustration. "It's anatomy," she insists, jabbing the pen on the white board.

Gertie, one of my team's opponents, has drawn a male torso, concentrating her greatest artistic flourish on a detailed reproduction of the subject's genitalia. From this, we are meant to guess the name her team has chosen for its restaurant. Instead, we are weeping with laughter.

The answer fails to restore our equilibrium: "The Tasty Loin" may not be a mouthwatering proposition, but it's certainly the icebreaker we were all waiting for.

We're gathered at a demonstration kitchen space in downtown Vancouver for a teambuilding exercise run by Michaela Morris and Michelle Bouffard, owners of a local wine consultancy business, House Wine. The event is being hosted by Roche Diagnostics, a medical instruments company hoping to facilitate connections between local pharmacists, technicians, nurse-educators and dietitians.

The plan is to divide us into three teams, put us in a high-pressure situation and find out if we can work together effectively. Each team operates a restaurant, cooks one course for the entire group to eat, serves it and chooses a wine that pairs well.

There's a mixture of confusion and concern as the participants arrive and are handed a glass of bubbly. "I thought we were here for a seminar on diabetes," someone whispers. The collective panic is palpable.

Chez Sue - my team - is making almond-crusted halibut in grapefruit sauce. For 18 people. I'm speechless. Mushroom risotto or Japanese beef salad are the alternatives - and my teammate, Eileen, picks the fish.

I need a drink. Thankfully we are whisked off to our white wine tasting station to learn about acidity and weight from Ms. Morris.

We're a quiet team - there is much hilarity emanating from other quarters - but what we lack in frivolity, we make up for in attentiveness. This is a competition, after all.

Next, Ms. Bouffard introduces us to red wine, discussing the effects of tannins and growing regions. She's tough, testing us on what we've picked up. My teammate Don takes notes. Eileen frowns. My other teammate, Sue, sticks her nose back in the glass. I drink.

Then the fun really starts. It's our turn with the chef, Andrey Durbach, renowned owner of Parkside, La Buca and Pied à Terre restaurants. We all sit up a little straighter. Don's note-taking becomes more furious.

Undercooked, the fish will be repulsive; overcooked and it's a disaster. Don immediately sets about timing the demonstration dish to the second.

"Put it in the oven for 8-10 minutes," Mr. Durbach says.

"His piece took 13 minutes," Don notes, quietly. We synchronize our watches.

The first task is picking the wine. There are six to choose from. We draw straws and "The Tasty Loin" goes first. They pick our obvious choice, the Sauvignon Blanc. For Japanese beef salad! We're too shocked to smirk, and grudgingly take the Chardonnay.

Then it's off to our cooking stations. I have nine grapefruits to segment. Mr. Durbach walks over and watches me.

"The point is to remove the pith," he says, poking at the tell-tale white chunks littering the fruit. "And those shallots need to be chopped smaller," he says to Eileen, who sighs and starts again.

Don looks at his watch and frowns. We're all sweating. But we seem to be dividing up the tasks well. I have the sauce, Don's prepping the fish, Eileen's making sure we both have what we need and getting the plates, glasses and cutlery organized. Sue is writing out the menus.

Our dish is due on the table at 9:15 p.m. We're last. Everyone else is late. Team Out of the Blue's risotto is darned tasty, but Mr. Durbach is merciless: "I told you it had to be served as soon as it was cooked," he comments. "Now it's dry, and the fat has started to separate."

Team Tasty Loin presents a serviceable beef salad but it can't survive the wine choice. Our smugness is bittersweet.

"That was meant for the fish," I hiss, before reminding myself it's just a game and anyway, what time is it? Why is Don prodding the halibut with a sharp knife and who left the butter out of the fridge?

I toss half a pound of it into the reduced grapefruit juice. Don is horrified. "Butter makes everything taste better," I retort, crossly.

Our dish is out on time, still hot, plated properly, and the wine is poured. Though everyone did their bit, I was the bossy-boots delegating tasks. But every army needs a general, and at least we weren't paintballing.

Mr. Durbach gives his verdict: The almond crust is too thick and the halibut needs more salt. Don's precision timing has produced perfect cooked fish, though. And we get points for picking the best available wine. We win. Yes! I shamelessly punch the air. It is a competition, right?