St. Peter reels in Paddlefish

Paddlefish co-owner Dave Long with creative director Natalie Anderson and their dogs
At Paddlefish, (from left) Dave Long and Natalie Anderson show off Sweet Pea with brewery pups Sparky and Izzy (in chair). (James Figy)

Dave Long’s dream of opening a brewery was dead. 

The one-time homebrewer had worked as a youth minister, then a site director at a camp in northern Minnesota. But opening a brewery had remained out of reach. Anyway, he told his girlfriend, Natalie Anderson, over the phone in August 2022, wasn’t there already a brewery everywhere? 

The next day Eric Johnson, who’d attended Long’s youth group and helped at his camps, called. Johnson and his friend Luke Dragseth wanted to know if Long would partner on a brewery in St. Peter.

Red Owl amber ale at Paddlefish Brewing Co.
Red Owl amber, which refers to the grocery store that was once in the Paddlefish space, is expected to be a favorite. (James Figy)

Paddlefish Brewing Co. opened Jan. 10 as a community-focused taproom with brews for craft connoisseurs as well as light beer lovers.

“It’s kind of a hybrid — focusing on some certain styles but also having something for everybody,” said Long, who serves as general manager. “We currently have a series of eight that will be our mainstays throughout the year.”

Paddlefish boasts 20 taps, so there’s space for experimental or niche styles. The brewhouse features a five-barrel electric system with four fermenters and one brite tank. As head brewer, Dragseth will guide the brewing program, with production help from brewers Will Riitters and Joe Weckwerth.

“Luke is this kind of mad-scientist brewing expert,” Long said. “He’s from Milwaukee, and he’s been brewing since he was like 6 years old with his uncle.”

A wall of Minnesota history at Paddlefish Brewing Co.
The St. Peter history wall offers glimpses of years long gone, including of the former Red Owl grocery store. (James Figy)

Dragseth and Johnson, the brewery’s business manager, had studied together at Gustavus Adolphus College. Visiting the North Shore in 2022, Johnson stopped at Gustie-owned Bent Paddle Brewing Co. and wondered why St. Peter didn’t have a brewery.

Land of Amber Waters: The History of Brewing in Minnesota” lists four breweries that started in St. Peter in the mid-1800s. Only one of them lasted into the 20th century: Engesser Brewing Co. 

Engesser had many ups and downs throughout its interesting history from 1856-1942. From overreporting production figures and underreporting tax liability to floods and fires, the brewery weathered many storms and remained afloat during Prohibition by selling soft drinks. 

Its popular brands such as Famous ’56, Royal Stock and Engesser Export were well known in the area as well as in the Twin Cities.

Paddlefish pays tribute to the old brewery with its Engesser light American lager. Most of the beer names have local inspiration. This includes the Red Owl amber, which pays tribute to the grocery store that was once housed in the same space.

“We found this really cool picture of when this building used to be a Red Owl taken from across the street,” Long said. “And it’s in our taproom. We have a history wall by some soft seating. We really wanted to highlight the history of St. Peter in the area.”

Paddlefish Brewing Co. taproom in St. Peter, Minnesota
Paddlefish offers a welcoming, dog-friendly taproom with plants and many interesting interior design touches. (James Figy)

Paddlefish isn’t solely an homage to the city. The crew’s love of the outdoors is clear in the bold hues of green and blue. Greenery grows throughout the taproom with the careful cultivation by Lindsey Westerberg, director of hospitality and guest relations. Anderson, interior designer and creative director, deserves credit for the vision of the space.

A flight of beers at Paddlefish Brewing Co.
Paddlefish will offer several core beers with room to experiment. (James Figy)

Long’s Microbus, lovingly called Sweet Pea, is parked inside the taproom, and visitors are welcome to climb inside to check it out. Occasionally, it’s seen driving around with the large Paddlefish logo on the passenger door.

The name came as Long researched St. Peter after partnering with Johnson and Dragseth. He stumbled upon an article with a picture of a fisherman holding a paddlefish. Diving deeper, he learned a Department of Natural Resources study had identified an outsize population of paddlefish nearby in the Minnesota River.

“They’re unique, and they’re super fascinating. So we wanted to reflect a little bit of the paddlefish’s characteristics,” Long said.

Anglers don’t usually try to catch paddlefish, but sometimes these bottom feeders get hooked. It’s a good reminder, Long said. Sometimes things come to you, not the other way around.

Paddlefish Brewing Co. core beers

Almost Capital American pale ale – 6.4% ABV, 37 IBUs

Engesser light American lager – 5.1% ABV, 10 IBUs

First Apostle porter – 6.1% ABV, 28 IBUs

Gustie golden ale — 4.6% ABV, 17 IBUs

Jolly Giant hazy IPA – 7.2% ABV, 24 IBUs

Mountain Mama West Coast IPA — 8%ABV, 55 IBUs

On the Road Again cherry-infused sour – 6.9% ABV, 15 IBUs

Red Owl amber ale – 6.5% ABV, 25 IBUs

Find the current tap list here.


Paddlefish article in Mankato Magazine

James Figy is a writer and beer enthusiast based in St. Paul. In Mankato, he earned an MFA in creative writing from Minnesota State University and a World Beer Cruise captain’s jacket from Pub 500. Instagram: @JamesBeered

This article originally appeared in the February 2024 issue of Mankato Magazine.

Drinking Kölsch in Cologne

A glass of Kolsch at Brauerei zum Pfaffen
Brauerei zum Pfaffen serves an easy-drinking Kölsch that echoes the “lawnmower” style of many U.S. breweries.

We almost didn’t go. At the end of a work trip in Germany, a transportation workers strike was scheduled to shut down the trains and several major airports. 

So we could get to Cologne, but if we did, we didn’t know how we’d make it to Amsterdam for our flight back home.

We went anyway. We had to. Sure, I could’ve found something else to write about this month. But there was no telling when — or if — my wife, Stephanie, and I would again have the chance to drink Kölsch in the only place in the world where it’s made.

Kölner Dom, aka Cologne Cathedral
Cologne Cathedral, with its dual 515-foot-tall spires, is the city’s most iconic landmark.

“But wait,” you might be saying. “I just got a Kölsch from my favorite brewery here in Minnesota.”

Actually, no. But we’ll get to that.

Cologne (aka Köln) spreads out on both sides of the Rhine, with the city’s historic downtown situated on the west side. The defining landmark is Cologne Cathedral (or Kölner Dom). Recognizable by its two 515-foot-tall spires, the UNESCO World Heritage Site is the largest gothic cathedral in northern Europe. 

An older church was located on the same grounds until 1248 when it burned down, and while the current structure has required near constant upkeep, it has stood tall since its completion in the mid-1500s.

It sounds patently Old World, right? But Cologne Cathedral is surrounded by the central train station, a Louis Vuitton store and a McDonald’s, among other modern businesses. And on all of these storefronts, you see signs and billboards for makers of the beer named after the city.

Myriad breweries produce Kölsch exclusively. In U.S. terms, think of them as ranging from brewpubs (“hausbrauereien”) to microbreweries up to commercial operations.

Brauerei zum Pfaffen is a classic Cologne hausbrauereien
Situated adjacent to the ancient haymarket, Brauerei zum Pfaffen is a classic example of a Cologne hausbrauereien.

Kölsch may be related to the other beers of the Rhine valley — Dortmunder export and the Altbiers of Dusseldorf. However, unlike those cousins to the north, Kölsch is truly part of the city’s culture.

Maybe you won’t find it on the hoppy section of your local beerhouse’s tap list. But it’s in the tradition of Bremen beer, which first popularized the use of hops for their enhanced flavor and longevity, as far back as the 12th century. 

Then at the Kölsch Konvention in 1986, 24 beermakers in the city proper and outlying areas decreed true Kölsch can only be made in those environs. So like Champagne, Tequila and Scotch Whisky, this crisp, effervescent ale is a regionally protected beverage. Anything made beyond this area are merely “Kölsch-style” ales.

Drinking Kölsch in Cologne is an experience in itself. The bierhaus servers, aka köbes, are typically unamused middle-aged men wearing a uniform resembling an Olive Garden waiter’s. They come to your table, take your food order and present you with two options: Kölsch or no Kölsch. That’s the beer list.

Here, the humble paperboard coaster is a main character in the evening. The köbes place the coaster, known as a deckel, down and etch a tally mark for every beer served. And traditionally, they continue to bring pour after pour until you place the coaster atop your empty glass to signify you’re finished.

A Kranz (“wreath”) of Kolsch beers
The beer servers known as köbes carry the glasses in a Kranz (“wreath”) and mark the number of beers served on your coaster.

And oh, how they’re served! A 0.2-liter (about 7-ounce) stange glass provides the perfect, straight cylinder of a vessel for the clear, bright ale. Köbes bring these out in a round serving tray called a Kranz (German for “wreath”) that holds a dozen or so beers.

While the serving is rote, the beer itself isn’t monolithic. I tried to ferret out the brews you can’t find just anywhere in Germany (and the U.S.) like Früh, Reissdorf or Gaffel. It wasn’t difficult.

Our first stop was Brauerei zum Pfaffen just off the city’s historic market square, which dates back to 1176. The brewery itself isn’t that old. And we selected it mainly because it offered a highly reviewed vegetarian currywurst. The beer was 2.3 euros per glass, and tasted like many American adaptations: refreshing and light with slight hop bitterness and some minerality from the local water. We’d call it a “lawnmower” beer.

Next up was Brauerei zur Malzmühle, a couple of minutes’ walk south from Pfaffen. The host let us sit in a large booth that would be reserved starting in one hour. I assumed a beer tour group would be claiming the seats, because another U.S. group was occupying the next table over. Only in this regard did I find the first brewery superior.

Malzmühler Kölsch offers more complex flavors of melon or pear alongside the slight hop edge.

The Malzmühler Kölsch was similarly refreshing but boasted a more pillowy head and the authentic mustiness associated with the style. Think flavors of melon or pear alongside the slight hop edge. It’s what makes Kölsch not just a palatable summer beer, but also a complex, damn tasty one.

And it’s a character not common in our “in the tradition” versions. Often, these are working to augment that Old World tang with added lime or other fruit flavoring. Of course, some Minnesota breweries do it justice. (Utepils’ Skölsch and Schell’s Lake Escape come to mind.)

During the trip, I also visited Berlin, Hanover and Verl, Germany, as well as Amsterdam. But not visiting Cologne would be unimaginable. 

If we hadn’t gone, so many memories would be missing. And the little train challenges weren’t worth too much worry. As a local woman we met in a coffee shop, who had studied in Rhode Island, put it: “We Germans love our strikes, you know.” 

Booking a bus ticket fixed everything, although we arrived in Amsterdam hours late due to traffic and the driver stopping for a smoke break. These inconveniences, and more, were worth it to drink Kölsch in Cologne.


Mankato Magazine page from Kolsch article

James Figy is a writer and beer enthusiast based in St. Paul. In Mankato, he earned an MFA in creative writing from Minnesota State University and a World Beer Cruise captain’s jacket from Pub 500. Twitter and Instagram: @JamesBeered

This article originally appeared in the July 2023 issue of Mankato Magazine.

The Basics: Pumpkin Ale

The patio at St Paul Brewing
Saint Paul Brewing is in the former Hamm’s brewery on the capital city’s east side. The outdoor patio resides in the ruins of the old brewery’s stables.

These basics columns typically dive into traditional beer styles — you know, invented by Germans or Brits. But with Halloween around the corner, I’d like to explore pumpkin ale.

Basic, of course, carries another meaning, as in: “Pumpkin spice lattes are basic.” 

The sentiment is as ubiquitous as the ridiculous glut of PSL bandwagon products that followed. In recent years, we’ve been subjected to pumpkin-spice soaps, kale chips, cosmetics, CBD gummies, ramen, candles and SPAM.

We want the madness to end, so we lash out at anything PSL-adjacent. Pumpkin ale is often guilty — or “basic” — by association. But should it be?

RELATED: The Basics: Hefeweizen & The Basics: Pilsner

Pumpkin ale dates back to colonial times. It was a working-class beer for folks who couldn’t afford imported brews. Molasses, bran and corn malt were typical ingredients, as historian Robert Beverly noted in 1704, along with “pompions.”

Contemporary pumpkin ales feature the orange gourd as an adjunct rather than a substitution for proper ingredients. The beer reemerged in the 1980s as the craft beer movement picked up steam.

Two pints of Mummy Train pumpkin ale from St. Paul Brewing
As pumpkin ales go, Mummy Train is fairly basic — but not in that sense of the word. (Saint Paul Brewing)

And then Starbucks launched the PSL in 2003. Google searches for PSL peaked in October 2010. After that, most everyone knew what it was and why to hate it.

October 2010, as it turns out, is when I first tried pumpkin ale. I have a fond memory of sipping a Brooklyn Brewing Post Road pumpkin ale with my future wife while carving jack-o’-lanterns. I don’t remember any association with PSL, just an appreciation for the new taste.

Someone with an even greater appreciation of pumpkin ale is Bob Roepke, head brewer at Saint Paul Brewing. “Most of my life has been focused around Halloween,” he said. “I was born on Oct. 31 at 10:31 p.m., and I love every aspect of the holiday.”

I didn’t know this before reaching out to Roepke. I simply wanted to talk to him because Mummy Train at Saint Paul Brewing (formerly Flat Earth Brewing Co.) is one of my favorite Minnesota pumpkin ales. After talking with him, it’s clear how much care goes into making this spooky seasonal.

James Figy: What really is a pumpkin ale?

Bob Roepke: A pumpkin ale is a beer that incorporates pumpkin as one of its main ingredients. To be considered a pumpkin ale, the beer should include real pumpkin, either in the mash, boil or added to the fermenter. Additionally, the beer can have the flavors and aromas of spices associated with pumpkin pie.

JF: Is the ale recipe fairly standard?

BR: There is no single standard recipe for pumpkin ale. The specific ingredients and brewing process can vary widely among different breweries. While the core components are typically malted barley, hops, yeast and pumpkin, the proportions and types of malt, hops and spices used can differ significantly from one brewer to another. 

Some breweries opt for a more hop-forward pumpkin ale. Others focus on showcasing the pumpkin and spice flavors. I definitely choose the latter.

The front entrance to St Paul Brewing, built in the old Hamm's brewery
Mummy Train is available exclusively at Saint Paul Brewing, as it became a brewpub in 2022, and you can enjoy it on tap or to-go in crowlers.

JF: What are the most common additional flavors?

BR: Some common extras or adjuncts include roasted pumpkin or pumpkin puree, honey, molasses, vanilla, maple syrup and cocoa nibs. A number of spices could be used, such as cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, ginger or allspice. Also, some pumpkin ales are barrel aged in oak.

JF: Where does Mummy Train sit on this continuum?

BR: Mummy Train is a fairly basic low-hop ale. That allows the pumpkin and spices to shine. The hops chosen complement the earthy notes from the pumpkin. It’s a medium-bodied beer with a dry finish to keep you going back for more.

JF: So, is it fair for people to lump pumpkin ale in with PSL?

BR: Absolutely not. They are not the same thing and should not be lumped together. Brewing beers with pumpkin and spices has been a tradition for centuries, especially in North America, where pumpkins are abundant during the fall season. 

They may share the same flavors. But it’s important to recognize that a pumpkin ale is a beer crafted with real pumpkin and spices. The PSL is a coffee-based beverage with pumpkin spice syrup added.

JF: But is pumpkin ale, like PSL, fated to be forever stuck in autumn? 

BR: Yes, pumpkin ale will always be associated with autumn. They typically get released in August and sold until about Thanksgiving. After that, they really don’t sell. So, if you would like to drink them all year-round, like I do, then you need to stock up and ration them throughout the year until next autumn. 


Mankato Magazine page showing pumpkin ale article

James Figy is a writer and beer enthusiast based in St. Paul. In Mankato, he earned an MFA in creative writing from Minnesota State University and a World Beer Cruise captain’s jacket from Pub 500. Twitter and Instagram: @JamesBeered

This article originally appeared in the October 2023 issue of Mankato Magazine.

The basics: Hefeweizen

A variety of Hefeweizen and weissbier options from Germany and the U.S.
Love it or hate it, hefeweizen is a ubiquitous traditional style, making up more than 10% of German beer exports, according to Jeff Alworth in “The Beer Bible.”

I try not to be too controversial, but here goes: I like hefeweizen. 

I don’t love the style. I don’t plan special trips to breweries just because they have a new one on tap. But I also don’t scoff if someone suggests one. It’s refreshing, pleasing to the eye and delightfully fragrant with the prominent notes of banana and clove.

What was surprising in writing this article was the idea that hefeweizen is often a love-hate style. To me, it’s a middle-of-the-road summer beer, something for everyone. But Dave Berg, brewmaster at August Schell Brewing Co., has encountered some pretty extreme opinions.

A foamy head of Hefeweizen beer
Hefeweizen falls under the weiss beer umbrella due to its light color and cloudy appearance. However, not all weiss beers contain wheat.

But I’ll say it again: I like hefeweizen.

Hefeweizen is a type of weiss beer, with “weiss” meaning “white” in German. And I know they didn’t have Pantone back in the 1400s, but the liquid appears generally hazy yellow. The name hefeweizen denotes yeast (“hefe”) and wheat (“weizen”). Not every weiss beer contains wheat, but every weizen does. 

The style has existed for half a millennia, starting as a peasant beer that was fermented in open vats. The flavors of banana and clove, along with the billowy head and signature wheat glass, are the most iconic elements of a hefeweizen. 

However, no banana or clove is added during brewing. The traditional flavor profile comes from esters created by heirloom yeast strains, open-air fermentation and a special rest to boost the release of ferulic acid. Also, a range of other flavors can often be present, such as vanilla, anise, apple, lemon and more.

A can of Schell's Hefeweizen
Schell’s Hefeweizen was the first wheat beer to be brewed commercially in the U.S. after Prohibition. (August Schell Brewing Co.)

Beyond some solid Bavarian imports, local brews have major followings, too. 

Just last year, Utepils Brewing Co. caused a kerfuffle by an April Fool’s Day social media post suggesting its Ewald the Golden had passed away. Fans of the beer, and even some distributors, were calling the brewery to ask why it would make such a bad decision.

As it turns out, another Minnesota brewery deserves the credit for the style’s resurgence stateside. When Schell’s released its first batch of Hefeweizen in 1984, it was the first brewery in the U.S. to create not just that style, but any wheat beer, since Prohibition.

To understand why, I spoke with Berg about all things weizen. Our conversation, edited for length and clarity, focuses on the challenges of crafting a good hefeweizen and tradition that draws so many people to Team Love.

James Figy: How does Schell’s Hefeweizen stick to — or depart from — the traditional definition?

Dave Berg: At their core, these are beers brewed with wheat. We try to stay close to the traditional German methods, so our Hefeweizen uses at least 50% wheat and traditional yeast. For us, the remainder of the malt bill is two-row malt. If you’re looking for a little deeper color, a touch of Munich would be appropriate.

There are some nontraditional changes. We skip the decoction, and it’s not open fermented.

JF: Are there any unique challenges to brewing a great Hefeweizen?

DB: The toughest part is getting the correct balance between the clove and banana flavors. The clove is caused by the yeast converting ferulic acid to 4-Vinyl Guaiacol, which is an aromatic phenol. 

The banana is a yeast-driven ester, isoamyl acetate. Esters are affected by many things — temperature, yeast growth and hydrostatic pressure to name a few. Thus, it’s important to understand your yeast, pitch the correct amount, and ferment at the correct temperature.

I know some folks are terrified of open fermentation, but I spent the first six years of my professional career with only​ open fermentation. So it’s not particularly concerning or difficult to me — we just don’t have open fermenters.

JF: Schell’s Hefeweizen became the first wheat beer brewed in the U.S. after Prohibition, according to your website. That’s mind blowing. Why do you think it took so long for them to come back and catch on?

Two Schofferhofer weissbiers in Germany
Fun story: Drinking beer in the German state of North Rhine-Westphalia in 2019, I was asked by the bartender, “One, dunkel? Or, two, weissbier?” I replied, “Two,” thinking that indicated the second option. Turns out, it indicated the quantity, too.

DB: First, lagers returned and then ales much later! Still, there wasn’t really a great demand for more niche styles. And hefeweizen is kind of a love-hate style. There really isn’t a middle ground, so it doesn’t automatically have a mass appeal.

JF: Do you think there’s any hope to see related styles break through too — weizenbock, dunkelweizen, rauchweizen, etc.?

DB: Obviously, brewers make all of those styles today. Snowstorm 2010 was a weizenbock. But once again, as a love-hate style, they will probably only pop up as seasonals.

JF: As an ale with such a long tradition, do you see anyone pushing the boundaries and really innovating?

DB: Quite frankly, no. A number of people add more hops or dry hop. But that’s not really innovation. It’s just adding more ingredients.

For myself, I don’t really need the style to be any different than it is. There’s a reason it’s been made for as long as it has been.

JF: Final question, and it’s a big one. Do you drink your hef’ with a slice of citrus?

DB: I think you can guess my answer.


Mankato Magazine May 2023 beer column on Hefeweizen

James Figy is a writer and beer enthusiast based in St. Paul. In Mankato, he earned an MFA in creative writing from Minnesota State University and a World Beer Cruise captain’s jacket from Pub 500. Twitter and Instagram: @JamesBeered

This article originally appeared in the May 2023 issue of Mankato Magazine.

What is beer poking?

Beer poking at Utepils Brewing Co.
Beer poking caramelizes residual sugars in a malty beer and creates a foamy, marshmallow-like head.

Countless chemical reactions take place before that first delicious drop of beer touches your tongue. Carefully planned and monitored by the brewer, this science remains beyond the consumer’s control.

But one piece of brewing alchemy you can do, even after bottling, is beer poking. This involves taking a red-hot iron and plunging it into a glass of malty beer. 

Why poke perfectly good beer?

There are two main reasons, and the first is straightforward: “Because it’s fun,” said Dan Justesen, president of Utepils Brewing in Minneapolis.

The second is about science and taste. The hot iron caramelizes residual malt sugar left over from the brewing process, Justesen explained. At the same time, it activates the CO2 to create a billowing foamy head, not unlike a marshmallow atop the cold beer.

“It’s kind of like a hot fudge sundae,” Justesen said. “When the hot fudge is still warm and you’ve got that cold ice cream, you get those two sensations at the same time. So we’ve not only changed the beer itself, but we’ve also given you a sensory overload.”

When did beer poking start?

While it may be trendy – and very Instagrammable – it’s not new by any means. 

The practice originated in Germany in the Middle Ages. Per Weihenstephan, the world’s oldest brewery, the Bavarian blacksmiths of yore didn’t appreciate how their beer became slushy during winter, so they tried to warm it using a hot poker, fresh from the forge. Thus was born “Bierstacheln,” which translates to “beer spiking.”

A propane burner with beer poking equipment heating up.
While a campfire can work, a propane burner makes it easier to poke multiple beers in a row and reduces carbon buildup on the poking iron.

It gained steam in Colonial America as well, according to 1571°F, a Wisconsin company that sells beer-poking kits. Colonists would poke their Flip – a mix of rum, ale and sugar or molasses – to beat New England’s bitter chill.

Even in Minnesota, it’s not novel. August Schell Brewing Co. deserves the most credit. Beer poking has been a mainstay at Schell’s Bock Fest since the annual event started in 1978.

“New Ulm as an old German town, we had a lot of old-timers that didn’t want cold beer,” said Ted Marti, president and CEO of Schell’s. “They literally had little warming irons to warm up the beer, so we took it a little farther with the fire poker and the fire.”

A perfect cold weather activity, beer poking has grown across the state. Maybe it’s because breweries adapted their patios for social distancing during Minnesota winters and needed something exciting. Whatever the case, it’s not just for a brewery’s anniversary or major event anymore.

Breweries that focus on German styles – Schell’s, Utepils, Waldmann Brewery in St. Paul, Lupulin Brewery in Big Lake, etc. – regularly offer beer poking. But it can also be a fun addition for your next bonfire or camping trip.

How to poke beer

Remember to use common sense. Wielding red-hot irons and drinking alcohol could be dangerous. Because the process is fun, you might end up poking and drinking several beers in short order. Consider designating one person to be the poker.

Dan Justesen of Utepils shows off the poking irons, customized with brewery tap handles.
Dan Justesen of Utepils shows off the poking irons, customized with brewery tap handles.

Step 1: Get your gear. Kits on the market, like those from 1571°F, have compact irons and other attachments. You might be tempted to use your fireplace poker, but it will prove unwieldy and difficult to heat.

Step 2: Choose the right beer. Bocks are ideal, but any malty style will work. Justesen has poked nearly every beer Utepils serves and really enjoyed how it changed the Hefeweizen. Just stay away from hoppy beers, which lack the necessary sugars.

Step 3: Crank up the heat. A campfire will work, but you could consider a propane burner. Justesen swears by it because the blue flame gets the iron hotter and prevents carbon buildup.

Step 4: Fill your glass and drink it down to about two-thirds full. This will provide room for the foam and allow you to taste the difference caramelization makes. 

Step 5: Submerge the iron into the beer. Be careful not to touch the glass. Leave the iron in for a few seconds, then slowly remove it. Justesen lets it linger at the top for a better foam taste. In and out, it should take about 10-15 seconds.

Step 6: Enjoy quickly. You’ll have time to take a picture, but to taste that marshmallowy foam, you shouldn’t wait long.

This was my experience, at least, in the snowy beer garden outside Utepils’ Fernweh Taproom. Justesen plunged the iron into a pint of Minnator, a rich 7.8% ABV Dopplebock. The liquid bubbled out from the hot poker. Then a lovely tan foam welled up and over the side.

It was New Year’s Eve 2021, and people warming up around the large fire ring glanced up from their beers and conversations about the year passing, the one ahead. They asked Justesen questions, then wanted a turn.

Each time was magical. None of us had a hand in crafting those beers, but we could all play a part in their transformation.


Mankato Magazine March 2022 issue

James Figy is a writer and beer enthusiast based in St. Paul. In Mankato, he earned an MFA in creative writing from Minnesota State University and a World Beer Cruise captain’s jacket from Pub 500. Twitter and Instagram: @JamesBeered

This article originally appeared in the March 2022 issue of Mankato Magazine.

All photos by James Figy.

Minnesota women brewing change

Team Nevertheless brewed its collective beer for International Women’s Day 2023 at BlackStack Brewing. (James Figy)

Less than one in four. That’s how many brewery owners identify as female, according to the Brewer’s Association. Considering the first brewers in history were women, today’s gender gap in the industry is glaring. 

“Being a woman in brewing means being one of a few,” said Jordan Nordby, lead brewer at Utepils Brewing.

Jordan Nordby and Ariel Keeton, brewers and founders of Team Nevertheless
Team Nevertheless was founded by Jordan Nordby (left) of Utepils and Ariel Keeton of Pryes. (James Figy)

“I see it as a position to lead and light the way for more women in the future. It means making things more accessible and better for future women brewers, for authentic equality.”

As a way to celebrate and support other women working in brewing, Nordby and Ariel Keeton, brewer at Pryes Brewing Co., formed Team Nevertheless. 

The group started when Keeton and Nordby, while talking at a Christmas party at Fulton Brewing, counted how many women they knew who worked in brewing in Minnesota. At that time, they could name just eight. That number stuck with Keeton.

“One day, while sitting on the brewdeck, waiting for my mash to finish up, I had an idea: find all the women in our state who brew beer and continually make beer together. I ran the wild idea in my head past Jordan and our friend Shannon (Stroh), a brewer at Surly, and both thought it was a great idea,” Keeton said. 

“I spent months contacting every brewery in the state I did not personally know anyone at. At that point, there were 16 of us scattered throughout the state, 12 of which made it to the very first brew: Nevertheless.”

Team Nevertheless collectively brews two beers each year. One is released on International Women’s Day, March 8, and the other sometime in the fall at the host brewery’s convenience.

“We chose to do two brews per year as a means of not only staying relevant, but also to show we are not just limited to one day per year of being important within this industry,” Keeton said. 

Ariel Keeton measures out hops for the “We’re Not Waiting” Keller Pilsner. (James Figy)

“Two beers per year means that two women every year get the opportunity to create and name her own beer. This is a task not frequently given to women in the industry. Brewing is a combination of science and art, and the Nevertheless series of beer is a means of celebrating each woman’s beer creation.”

The group made the first beer at Badger Hill Brewing in Shakopee where Keeton brewed for four years before recently joining Pryes in Minneapolis. She started in the industry as taproom manager at the now-shuttered Harriet Brewing.

“The two brewers that were working at Harriet at the time noticed my interest in learning the production side of the industry, thus filling my free time with information and hands-on learning experiences,” she said. “… I went on to become the assistant brewer and assistant taproom manager for Tanzenwald Brewing Co. in Northfield.”

Nordby’s path to joining Utepils five years ago was very different. “I wanted to do something interesting with my chemical engineering degree that did not involve sitting at a desk all day.”

Brewers from Utepils, Pryes and BlackStack join to make a beer for International Women's Day 2023
Jordan Nordby and Ariel Keeton stand on the brewdeck with this year’s host brewer, Bella Ludwig, production manager at BlackStack. (James Figy)

Being part of Team Nevertheless has had a huge positive influence on Nordby’s experience as a brewer. She can turn to the group for support or advice, and it’s there for others, too, whether seasoned pros or relative newcomers.

“For any women who are interested in joining the beer industry, it is important to know that it will not always be easy, but once you find the company culture that you thrive in, it is worth it,” she said. “Team Nevertheless will be here to support you in any way we can.”

Keeton offered similar advice. There’s always room to learn and grow, but don’t doubt yourself. Trusting your knowledge and abilities is critical as a woman in brewing. 

“When I started in this industry, there were five women in the state of Minnesota that brewed beer,” Keeton said. “There are now 25 of us, and we aren’t going anywhere.”

What’s the beer for International Women’s Day 2023?

This year, Team Nevertheless brewed We’re Not Waiting in January at BlackStack Brewing.

The Keller Pilsner, an unfiltered Pils that requires less lagering time, will be on tap March 8 at BlackStack’s St. Paul taproom.


James Figy is a writer and beer enthusiast based in St. Paul. In Mankato, he earned an MFA in creative writing from Minnesota State University and a World Beer Cruise captain’s jacket from Pub 500. Twitter and Instagram: @JamesBeered

This article originally appeared in the March 2023 issue of Mankato Magazine.

Don’t mess with the Fest

Typically when a plan seems foolproof, you haven’t factored yourself into the equation. That was the case in writing this article.

I wanted to find the Minnesota brewery reinventing Oktoberfest. Who was adding mango puree to Märzen, serving schnitzel egg rolls or hiring a DJ to remix polka standards? 

The headline would be: “Not your Opa’s Oktoberfest.”

I contacted the usual suspects in the Minnesota River Valley. I reached out to other contacts around the state. Finally I emailed Brian Kaufenberg, creative director at Beer Dabbler. No one fit the bill.

“Since it’s such a tradition, most folks are sticking with tried-and-true recipes and approaches,” Kaufenberg replied.

The brewing team at Giesenbrau in their biergaten
In the New Prague biergarten: Erin Hutton (left) and Tom Giesen.

I was the fool. But the answer wasn’t completely satisfying. To understand, I needed to talk to a brewery that fully embraces the traditions. This led me to Erin Hutton and Tom Giesen of Giesenbräu Bier Co.

“Of all the parties in the world, Oktoberfest has the biggest reputation as the best party,” Hutton said, sitting in his New Prague biergarten one July afternoon, pint glasses sweating on the table. 

“Anybody who’s been there has had a great time, and if it’s the best party in the world, why would you want to stray from that?”

During a Giesenbräu Oktoberfest, staff and patrons dress in German tracht, lederhosen and dirndl. 

The brewery charges admission to its festival tent, either basic entry or a slightly higher price that includes a souvenir liter stein and pour. Polka music plays, and an area food truck serves pork dumplings, sauerkraut, etc.

The first Oktoberfest occured in 1810 as part of a wedding celebration for Bavarian royalty, replete with feasts, parades and horse races. The locals enjoyed the festivities so much that they decided to reprise them the next year and the one after that.

“Anybody going to an Oktoberfest in the U.S. — they don’t want to show up and see a rock band and a taco truck,” said Giesen, who’s Hutton’s brother-in-law. “They want that tradition.”

And for their family, German beer culture is personal.

While studying in Munich, Hutton met Anna Giesen. She also had studied in Bavaria and had returned to live there after college. They bonded over their love of beer halls and would wonder, “Wouldn’t it be great to open a German beer hall back in the States?”

After returning from Germany, Hutton worked at a microbrewery in the Denver area that made beer flavored to resemble, say, Hawaiian pizza or Lucky Charms. He decided that when it was time to open his own brewery, it would resemble a beer hall.

After marrying and starting a family, the Huttons moved to Anna’s hometown of New Prague. Recruiting Giesen and his wife, Becka, they opened Giesenbräu in 2017 to make “bier-flavored beer.”

Giesenbräu Bier Co. opened in 2017 to make “bier-flavored beer” in a setting inspired by German beer halls.

Hutton, owner-operator and brewer, and Giesen, brewer, took home two second-place medals in the 2021 MN Brewers Cup by sticking with European styles and using imported Weyermann malts. Their Festbier is no different.

Only “the Big Six” are allowed to call their beers Oktoberfestbier: Augustiner, Hacker-Pschor, Löwenbräu, Paulaner, Spaten and Hofbräuhaus. But many, including Giesenbräu, follow their lead when making Festbier.

Spaten debuted the first Märzenbier at the 1841 Oktoberfest, and the amber lager became the festival’s official beverage in 1872. In the 1970s, however, these Bavarian breweries shifted from the caramel-colored concoction toward lighter, crisper flavors. Today’s Festbier leans much less on Munich malt but offers the same ABV punch.

“A lot of people confuse Märzen and Festbier,” Hutton said.

Of course, Märzenbier (“March beer”) was around long before the 1800s. The term applied to beers brewed before the cutoff imposed by a 1553 Bavarian ducal decree. Brewing had to cease from April 23 to Sept. 29 due to increased risks from bacteria and wild yeast. Until Spaten’s amber lager debuted in 1841, Märzen referred to any beer cranked out as the end of spring approached — almost always dark beers!

A pint of Helles Lager sits on the bar at Giesenbrau in New Prague, Minnesota
Hildy’s Helles, Giesenbräu’s version of the classic pale lager found throughout Munich, took second place in the 2021 MN Brewers Cup.

So, to recap: Oktoberfest no longer involves a wedding or horse races. Festbier is no longer Märzen. Märzen isn’t even Märzen anymore.

Maybe my premise wasn’t too off base. What we celebrate may be your Opa’s Oktoberfest, but it isn’t his Opa’s. It’s unrealistic to think cherished traditions will never change.

But with traditions, especially those involving beer, thinking takes a back seat. That’s where I’d gone awry. And it’s what the Giesenbräu crew had been trying to explain about Oktoberfest.

“It’s a day where everybody just enjoys themselves,” Hutton said. “They’re all drinking a liter of beer, like, ‘It’s Oktoberfest today. I can drink a whole liter of beer or maybe two, why not? Let’s have a good time.’”

Oktoberfest at Giesenbräu 

Sept. 30-Oct. 2, 2022

$20 basic entry

$25 entry plus stein and first fill

More information: giesenbraubierco.com

Image of Oktoberfest article in Mankato Magazine

James Figy is a writer and beer enthusiast based in St. Paul. In Mankato, he earned an MFA in creative writing from Minnesota State University and a World Beer Cruise captain’s jacket from Pub 500. Twitter and Instagram: @JamesBeered

This article originally appeared in the September 2022 issue of Mankato Magazine.

Engineered to Refreshment

Believe it or not, drinking and writing about beer is not my full-time gig. But beer still finds me, even in my day job at a global automation technology vendor. (It doesn’t hurt that it’s a German company.)

One of our top engineers, Matt, is also an avid homebrewer. As a resident beer buff, I often get to try his test batches and offer feedback. One day we discussed how many brewers start out in engineering, listing several examples. The conversation was brief, but the idea lingered.

Engineers, of course, are details people. But there must be more to it, right? And do many folks involved in beer making actually come from engineering? I tracked down some Minnesota brewers with engineering backgrounds to find out.

How many engineers are in brewing?

A non-exhaustive list of Minnesota breweries with engineering professionals includes August Schell Brewing Co., BlackStack Brewing, Lost Sanity Brewing, Tin Whiskers Brewing Co., Uncommon Loon Brewing Co., Urban Growler Brewing Co. and Utepils Brewing Co. This excludes folks from broader STEM fields and those who received brewing engineering degrees but don’t identify as engineers.

Deb Loch, head brewer at Urban Growler, in the brewhouse
Deb Loch worked in biomedical engineering for 20 years, including eight years at Medtronic, before becoming master brewer at Urban Growler. (Urban Growler Brewing Co.)

The list highlights people like Deb Loch, master brewer at Urban Growler in St. Paul. She put in 20 years as a biomedical engineer and product manager, then received a degree in brewing and went to work at Northern Brewer, the homebrew supply store. 

She noticed engineers made up a good share of customers and often focused on gear more than others. That made sense to Loch.

“When I transitioned to brewing, I never transitioned out of engineering,” she said, adding she’s an analytical, problem solver by nature. 

“It wasn’t like I stopped doing any of those things. I just applied it to a different situation.”

Why do engineers make good brewers?

Two key themes were process and measurement. These are critical for recipe development, reliable production and fixing issues with ingredients or equipment, said Schell’s brewmaster Dave Berg, a former aerospace engineer.

Tin Whiskers beer glass
The exclusive dimple glass was reserved for members of Tin Whiskers’ Robot Collective group.

“In the brewhouse, we measure temperatures, volumes, pH, specific gravity, to name a few. In fermentation, we measure temperature, pH drop, specific gravity drop, the time it takes to reach attenuation,” he said. “Knowing what your targets are and what to do for something out of specification is critical for consistency.”

Brad Klatt, co-owner and head brewer at Uncommon Loon in Chisago City, sees the craft’s multidisciplinary nature as another key reason. “Brewing contains a number of mechanical, chemical, electrical, controls/automation and microbiology sciences,” said Klatt, who retired after 36 years in engineering to open the brewery.

Collecting data at each step and using that to enhance the brew is also critical, said Jeff Moriarty, founder and president of Tin Whiskers. The downtown St. Paul brewery also draws on Moriarty’s electrical engineering career in its branding, with a pint-wielding robot mascot and beers titled Short Circuit Stout, Reverse Breakdown Maibock and the Bot IPA series.

“Brewing beer is also very science-based,” Moriarty said. “I like to think of it as engineering, but with beer instead of electronics.”

How to enjoy beer like an engineer

Are there any lessons non-engineers can apply when tasting beer or homebrewing? Pretty much all of the engineers-turned-brewers responded something like: Sure, but why?

Jordan Nordby, lead brewer at Utepils in Minneapolis, emphasized her chemical engineering knowledge wasn’t her most important tool. “It is having the mindset to know that things can always be improved and being able to see those opportunities when they present themselves,” she said.

Still, Nordby suggested homebrewers add a light lager or blonde ale to their rotation. These seem simple but don’t hide mistakes well. Stick to the recipe, don’t dump in extra hops, taste carefully and make intentional changes, she said.

“Do you want to know how different yeasts change the flavor of beer? Split your wort in half and ferment each half with a different yeast,” she said. “There are a lot of ways to experiment with recipes. But it is important to make sure you have the basics down first before going crazy with styles.”

The engineers’ main advice was to calibrate your palate. Don’t limit yourself to specific styles. Try to describe what you’re tasting. And always remember to enjoy each new drink and brewery — don’t turn it into a science fair.

As Klatt put it, brewing is highly technical, but beer itself remains more ethereal.

“While engineering is an important skill set, equally important is appreciating the art and beauty in crafting beer,” he said. “I’m continually in awe of the miracle that combining four simple ingredients – grain, hops, yeast and water – can produce such a magical beverage.”


Mankato Magazine April 2022 issue

James Figy is a writer and beer enthusiast based in St. Paul. In Mankato, he earned an MFA in creative writing from Minnesota State University and a World Beer Cruise captain’s jacket from Pub 500.

This article originally appeared in the April 2022 issue of Mankato Magazine.

Update: Tin Whiskers unfortunately closed in May 2022.

The basics aren’t basic: Pilsner

Josef Groll had a big head. Arrogance was one of the brewer’s defining characteristics. His own father dubbed him “the rudest man in Bavaria.” But even Groll couldn’t have imagined — when he brewed the first Pilsner on October 5, 1842, in a small Bohemian city — his new pale lager would become a global mainstay.

The people of Pilsen, in what’s now Czechia, recruited Groll to create an alternative to the terrible ales they regularly dumped. They built a state-of-the-art brewery, now called Pilsner Urquell. Czech Pilsners retain much of the sweetness, hefty Bavarian malt mouthfeel, spicy bitterness from Saaz hops and golden color of the original.

Fair State Pils can with a full pilsner glass next to it
Fair State Pils draws on aspects of the north German and original Czech Pilsner. (Fair State)

In the late 1800s, advances in refrigeration and yeast accelerated the style’s popularity. Pilsner spread, adjusting to local tastes, agriculture and water. First it moved south into Austria and Bavaria where it spawned the Helles lager. Then it went north, creating the crispier northern German Pilsner and another spinoff: Dortmund export.

What about now? Unfortunately, Pilsner is no longer seen as Groll’s revolution, but too often as a macro style that breweries carry as a gateway to more exciting styles.

In this column, I want to occasionally revisit the basics, highlighting a Minnesota offering that’s a standard bearer of the style. For Pilsner, I spoke with Niko Tonks, founding brewer at Fair State Brewing Cooperative. Our conversation, edited for length and clarity, runs the gamut between what the beer was and what it might become again.

James Figy: Are Pilsners nowadays just something for the not-a-beer-drinker to sip?

Niko Tonks: Pilsners, in particular, are gaining ground. We always have Pils in the taproom, and when we have a second Pilsner, it often moves faster than IPAs at that time. But Pilsner is just one kind of pale lager. The lager in general has further to go. 

JF: You once said brewers, rather than being beer snobs, prefer pale lager. Why?

NT: Taste among brewers is a diverse thing. But it’s a truism that the longer you’re in the industry, the more likely you drink pale lager at the end of the day, oftentimes not even craft beer. 

At a base level, it tastes good, and you can have two or three. If you’re working in the “kettle sour mines” all day, cutting bags of fruit puree into a fermenter, you’ll probably crave a “regular beer.” On a technical level, Pilsners require consistency and are difficult to do well. That’s another truism.

JF: What makes Pilsners so difficult?

NT: The old story is there are fewer things to hide behind. That’s true to an extent. Material selection is important, but that applies to any style. Really, reaching the pinnacle of IPA is as hard as getting to the pinnacle of Pilsner. 

Fair State Brewing Cooperative's taproom in Minneapolis
Fair State Brewing Cooperative is a Union brewery with a Northeast Minneapolis taproom and St. Paul brewhouse. (Fair State)

But the opportunity cost is huge: In our peak season, we could put two or three batches of IPA through a tank in the time it takes to do one of Pils.

We use some old school, continental techniques, too. Much American brewing equipment isn’t set up for them, though many new breweries are building in these capabilities. You need to do a temperature program mash or decoction if you want to get to the next level. 

And we keep Pils simple, which is the nature of the beast. As a brewer, you have to resist complicating recipes for beers like this.

JF: Which pale lager ancestor does it most closely resemble?

NT: Fair State Pils is a mashup of the Czech and northern German versions. It’s maltier and less dry than the latter because we use Bohemian Pilsner malt. But we pair it with a lot of classic German aroma hops from the Hallertau region of Bavaria, so it’s more bitter and hop aromatic than the former. We aimed for an authentic continental style.

JF: Why have you focused so much on craft lagers, like Pils, Crankin’ Foamers, Union Lager and Vienna Lager?

Exterior of Fair State Brewing Cooperative in Minneapolis
While Fair State received early attention for its sour program, including the ubiquitous, hibiscus-infused Roselle, the brewery’s focus remains on low-ABV lagers and other easy-drinking styles. (Fair State)

NT: Our concept when we opened in 2014 was to make low-alcohol beers. Early on, our sour beers got more attention, so we leaned into that. And we’ve definitely chased a trend or two. 

But during the pandemic, we had some downtime to think. We realized we’re technically proficient enough to make almost any style, but people can really tell when you’re excited and care about the beer. 

We’ll keep brewing as many lagers as possible, and if that’s our niche, we’ll still sleep well.

JF: Will the industry overall trend in that direction?

NT: Everything’s possible on small scales. To stay alive in Minnesota’s beer scene, most breweries must cater to everybody. I hope we see greater differentiation, with go-to places for English pub ales or brown ales or Belgians.

But I take it with a grain of salt. My first brewing job was at Live Oak Brewing in Austin, Texas, which makes Pilz — a very Czech Pilsner. Every year since, articles have said, “This is the year of the craft lager!” The only difference now is I sort of believe it.


James Figy is a writer and beer enthusiast based in St. Paul. In Mankato, he earned an MFA in creative writing from Minnesota State University and a World Beer Cruise captain’s jacket from Pub 500.

This article originally appeared in the June 2022 issue of Mankato Magazine.

How to read poetry

Today is the 190th birthday of Emily Dickinson, an incredibly important and well known American poet. She’s also one of a handful of poets that many folks know of at all. Generally speaking, people are not huge fans of poetry. Nearly 90% of Americans do not read poetry in a given year, according to a 2018 survey, and that was even an improvement from two years earlier.

Dog with Emily Dickinson book

Just ask anyone who was assigned to read Emily in high school (or Robert Frost, Walt Whitman, etc.) There are usually several reasons why: Poems are difficult to understand because of ye olde language and references. The deeper, profound meaning of poems is too hard to uncover. They’re just plain stupid and have no point. Now, that’s a little harsh. And more importantly, reading poetry doesn’t have to feel any of these ways.

Often English teachers and even poets don’t do themselves any favors. Take our friend Em, for example, who said: “If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry.” (You okay there? Maybe try a Snuggie.)

Don’t get me wrong — I love Emily Dickinson. (I took a tour of her home in Amherst, Massachusetts, and even had a T-shirt, much to my family’s chagrin.) But it might be more helpful for today’s readers who are open to trying poetry again to get some advice from contemporary voices. With that in mind, I reached out to some poets and writers who are working today to get some suggestions on how to read poetry for enjoyment, not for a book report.

1. Enjoy the music of the poem

People seem to think that poetry is like a logic puzzle or something when really it’s layered like music. You can like the lyrics or the beat or the sick guitar riff, but the bottom line is how the poem makes you feel. Bright Dead Things by Ada Limón is the book I recommend for people who want get into poetry.

—Kate MacLam, poet (read “My Mailman” and “Dermatitis“)

I remember reading poetry in junior high and high school, and loving and connecting with the sounds and images enough that that gave me pleasure. What was frustrating then, when I got to college, was in literature classes being asked to ignore those things that gave me pleasure to analyze it to death. Poetry has this reputation: ‘Oh, this is difficult. There’s a deep meaning that you have to have be really intelligent or have read zillions of poems to understand.’ And I disagree with that. When you read a poem, you should ask, ‘What gives me pleasure in this poem? Is it a single word or an image?’

—Candace Black, poet, author of Whereabouts: Poems, professor in the creative writing program at Minnesota State University, Mankato

The way we usually learn poetry in high school turns so many people off before they even get started. You don’t have to understand the poem logically! It’s like music — you just have to feel it. Start with contemporary, accessible poets like Ada Limón and Ross Gay or an accessible genre of poetry like spoken word.

—Lorna Pecard, poet

Enjoy the language, structure, and tone even if you don’t understand the poem on the first read. Mark poems that mirror scars in your memories to help you become closer to your obsessions. Talk about the book cover and how it may connect to the poetry collection as a whole. Be honest if you don’t understand the poem; it helps you become a stronger reader (and writer). If you don’t like a poetry collection, you can always learn from it. Find your taste, your obsessions, let that voice hidden in the dark find its light. Poetry is about the process of understanding, never the results of understanding.

—Sengarone Vetsmany, poet (read “Lady of the Woods” and “Traveling home with cherries”)

2. Keep things simple

When people say they have difficulty with poetry, it’s usually because somebody else has raised the bar for enjoying it. And, really, there is no bar. A poem either engages you or it doesn’t, and you just move on. It doesn’t need to be understood — it just needs to be felt or heard. When you read a novel, for example, you engage with the character and the story, and at the end of it, you feel like you’ve been on a journey. Poets are the same way. They’re trying to capture a moment or feeling. They’re stopping time and inviting you into that moment. At the end of it, the poets are not saying, ‘Did you understand me?’ The question poets ask more often is: ‘Did you feel it?’

—Richard Robbins, poet, author of Body Turn to Rain: New & Collected Poems, professor in the creative writing program at MSU Mankato

Stop everything and read “Understanding Poetry Is More Straightforward Than You Think.” Poetry seems like a mystery to a lot of people, something that is hard to crack, hard to write, hard to understand. But it doesn’t have to be. The first step is to simplify the poem by reading it aloud. Yes, out loud — not in your head! You can whisper it if you want, but poetry is better when experienced by the ears as well as the eyes.

Then you must identify what is literally happening in the poem. Don’t read too deeply. If you’re familiar with the concept “read between the lines,” this is the opposite. Go line by line, stanza by stanza, or sentence by sentence — whatever is easiest — and really break down the poem.  If you encounter words or concepts that you think should be common knowledge, or you think you knew what it meant once, go ahead and look it up. Once the poem is understood on the surface, you can get into it on a deeper level.

—Emily Johnson, nonfiction writer, associate lecturer at University of Wisconsin-River Falls

Think about each line in a poem as a tiny mini-poem. If you don’t get or like an entire poem, you can still hone in on units of the poem (individual lines or maybe stanzas) that you do like or get. These moments can be a sort of starting place for getting meaning and significance out of the poem. But not knowing is also kind of the point of poetry. John Keats called this idea ‘Negative Capability’ and described it as people’s capability for “being in uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact & reason.” That’s important. Lastly, I think “Project” by Rae Armantrout is perfect for poetry beginners. It’s not an easy poem, but it’s very accessible. And it’s becoming one of my favorite poems.

—Tyler Barton, fiction writer and poet, author of The Quiet Part Loud: Stories (read three DJ Poems)

3. Read current poets

I like to show those people a poem that is in free verse and has a pop culture reference (musician, technology like a computer or text message, UGG boots, etc.). People need confirmation that poems don’t have to rhyme and don’t have to be about nature or love.

—Erin Dorney, poet, author of I Am Not Famous Anymore: Poems After Shia LaBeouf (read three Adriene poems)

Start with poetry written sometime in the last fifty or sixty years. You might try to find an anthology, something either in print or online that offers work from a variety of people. Read the poems not as puzzles or morality lessons, but as somebody simply talking to you. Find some voices that you’d like to hear more from, and then look for books by those writers.

—Richard Terrill, poet and nonfiction writer, author of What Falls Away Is Always: Poems & Conversations, professor emeritus at MSU Mankato

Only read poetry you like. Even if you don’t know why you like it, keep reading it until you figure out why. And if you don’t like it, or feel like you don’t get it, don’t keep reading it. There is a lot of poetry out there, and even the stuff deemed good by some isn’t worth your time if you don’t like to read it.

—Angela Voras-Hills, poet, author of Louder Birds (read “Chateaubriand” and “Nothing to Undo That Can’t Be Done Again”)

You might not have many poets you like or even know. But even if you have one name (Yesika Salgado or José Olivarez, for example), you can Google search them and more than likely, there’ll also be a “People also search for” list on that page. That’s a good place to start expanding who and what you read.

—Michael Torres, poet and nonfiction writer, author of An Incomplete List of Names, professor in the creative writing program at MSU Mankato (read “Doing Donuts in an ’87 Mustang 5.0, After My Homie Chris Gets Broken Up With” and “All-American Mexican”)

Of course, there’s no wrong way to read poetry. No one can tell you what to like. And Emily Dickinson’s writing might speak to you today in ways that it didn’t before. (If you want to grab a dictionary, reference book of Greek mythology, and the complete sonnets of John Donne, then by all means, go for it.) But the point is not to try so hard. No one’s giving you a grade. By focusing on the parts that are enjoyable and the voices that get you, rather than working to dissect the text, anyone can read poetry.

Not sure where to grab your next poetry collection? Check out this list of independent Twin Cities bookstores, all of which would be happy to help with recommendations!