The craft beer boom of the 2010s may be over, but Minnesotans still drink a lot of the stuff. (Though not as much as Wisconsinites, by the grace of god.) There are roughly 200 breweries in Minnesota—there were just 39 back in 2012—which means there’s way too much beer out there to fit on the shelves of even the largest big-box liquor stores.
How do shops determine which brews make the cut? Well, most liquor stores have a beer buyer who combs through the vast selection. In the beer world, it's usually more romantic to talk about the people who make the beer. Rarely do we hear about the people who stand between the brewery and the shopper—the unsung heroic middlemen who negotiate in the space between what they think will sell, what deserves a spot on the shelf, and what beers they personally love.
To learn more, we asked representatives from local breweries and distributors which beer buyers in town to talk to. Overwhelmingly, two answers came back: Bill Nosan at France 44 in Minneapolis and Joe "Fitty" Fitzpatrick at Thomas Liquors in St. Paul.
France 44 in Linden Hills is one of the largest independent liquor stores in the area, and the beer selection is massive, with everything from tiny local breweries to esoteric imports to macros filling the cooler. Bill is in charge of it all, and he’s intimidatingly good at his job. He knows his customers and what they’re looking for. Even after 20 years, he loves his job and still enjoys the thrill of the hunt for good beer. He knows a good beer when he sees it.
Thomas Liquors is a relatively small neighborhood shop in Mac-Groveland with a smart, curated beer selection. (Bill says of Thomas Liquors, “You walk into that store and immediately think, ‘Wow this is well thought out.’ The store is not run by the distributors, it’s run by the employees.”) “Fitty” is the beer buyer there; he’s been part of the Thomas team since 1998. He’s the epitome of a people-person: open, warm, and friendly, he famously has a nickname for just about everyone. He’s also an encyclopedia of St. Paul beer history.
Both Bill and Fitty were lovely to sit down with, and it was difficult to whittle our conversations into something cohesive. If you’re into beer, it might be best to go pay them a visit and have a chat yourself.
Racket: How’d you get into beer-buying?
Fitty: I started here in 1998. Jim Thomas, the owner, hired me. I had grown up with the family. I had a crush on Mike Thomas’s sister in second grade! Just out of college I was working with East Side Beverage, who carried Summit. As part of the job, I would visit area liquor stores, and every time I came into Thomas Liquors, I’d say, “Hey Mr. and Mrs. Thomas!” And we’d chit-chat. I was putting up a sign at Thomas and Jim said to me, “Hey, we’re looking for a beer buyer, want the job?”
Bill: I bartended during college, which is why it took me seven years to not even graduate. [Laughs.] Out of college, I started working at a high-end wine store, and they had me managing their tiny beer selection. There, I was force-fed wine until one moment it all clicked for me. I came back here and worked for a wine distributor, and it felt like the dream job, but I failed miserably as a wine rep. You needed 100% organization, and I was way over my head. I couldn’t continue to do it. It wasn’t healthy, so I quit what I thought was my dream job. I realized I needed a home, that I’d do better at retail.
I initially got hired at France 44 in the wine department, but when the beer buyer position opened up I immediately applied for the job. It was right when everything was exploding in the local beer scene. It was such an amazing opportunity to be part of it. I would pick up the phone and call Heather at Surly. After repeated busy signals, I’d finally get through and say, “Heather, it’s Bill, send me everything!” There was nothing more exciting than the beer scene back then.
Was there a beer that “changed your mind” about beer?
Fitty: Summit EPA was an introduction of hops for me. Back in the day, we were in the top 10, 20 accounts for Summit. It was our No. 1 beer by far. I remember comparing it to Sierra Nevada Pale. I liked Sierra Nevada Pale Ale more because of that hop character. Summit EPA, I think, really kick-started the hop-centric palates of Minnesotans. I will always have a soft spot for Lagunitas. As a brewery, they’re close to my heart. I’m friends with the local reps. I got to visit the brewery in the early 2000s.
Bill: In college I drank a lot of Lost Rhino’s Rhino Chaser and Mad River’s Extra Pale Ale and Extra Stout. These were beers that tasted like nothing else around because back in the ’90s, if you had a great selection of beer, it was all imports. There was no Fair State, Falling Knife, or Barrel Theory. If I wanted world-class beers, I bought imports. House Ale from Traquair. You taste that, and you’re like, “Oh my god, I’ve never tasted anything like that before.” They're just so perfectly brewed.
I don’t find myself grabbing those beers any longer. I find myself buying what our customers are asking about, so I can talk more intelligently about them. I buy Barrel Theory and BlackStack because those are what my customers are buying. I like that, though. It’s what drives me.
What makes you say “yes” or “no” to bringing in a new beer?
Fitty: Taste comes first and foremost, but branding and brand reputation are sometimes almost as important. I remember when Lupulin first came in. So many hazy IPAs were coming around, and I thought, “Oh, not another one.” I tried it and thought, “Oh shit, yeah, these guys are the real deal.” The beer itself really sold me. I didn’t know anything about them. There were other ones where you hear about the reputation around town. There’s still no shortage of average-at-best beers in the market. You want to have a good, curated selection.
I literally put my name on stuff, I have these curated variety packs. My “remember IPA pack” is our best-selling beer SKU. There’s "Fitty’s Minnesota Hazy All Stars," "Fitty’s Mystery Packs."
Bill: We decide as a team, because if I don’t have the support of the beer team with Rob and Stephen—if those beers don’t have someone championing them—they’re dead on the shelf. There was a point when if it said "Minnesota" on it, it didn’t matter if it was good or bad. Those days are long gone now. We say “no” way more than we say “yes.” You just know, when you pour it, when you smell it. Right when it hits your tongue. You just know.
Packaging can help. But when you pour it in a glass, you can already start thinking “oh no” or “oh yes.” We know each other. I can see it in Rob or Stephen’s eyes whether they like it, hate it, or are indifferent. I am no longer interested in indifferent. Everything has to be loved now. We’re the ones sorting through all of the bullshit for our customers. Our customers are relying on us to pick out the best.
What do you want to see more of from breweries/suppliers and/or consumer drinking habits?
Bill: More West Coast IPAs. It’s impossible for us to get West Coast IPAs now. I have customers coming in every week asking, “What’s new in West Coast IPAs?” and I have to say, “Nothing, but I have six new hazy IPAs.” How hard can this be? We used to drink these all the time. More hoppy pilsners, too. We’ve done three exclusive Modist pilsners. I’ll tell you, Modist has a critically underrated lager program.
Fitty: If I was god of the industry, I would bring back so many styles that have seemingly disappeared. It’s 80% hazy IPAs. Where did brown ales go? Red ales? Saisons? Bring back more variety.
What's a beer you would buy by the case?
Fitty: Summit EPA for sure, Oskar Blues’s Dale’s Pale Ale, Bent Paddle Light, Modist Supra Light, Venn Pils. These are beers I would have all the time. And, for a special occasion, the Belgian Quadrupel Trappistes Rochefort 10. For what’s on our shelf, Roch’ 10 is at the top.
Bill: Here’s my problem with answering that: There’s 900 lifetimes’ worth of beer out there, and I bring home a different beer every time. That’s not how my brain works. I need to explore. There’s such an amazing array of things out there. If you just drink the same thing, eat the same food, listen to the same band over and over, that’s really fucking boring.
