Bacchus Smiled

Haskell’s was the first Minnesota wine store to sell Mondavi; the first nationally to develop a relationship with renowned Burgundy winemaker Jean-Claude Boisset; the first to organize vineyard trips as part of its marketing. And along the way, Jack Farrell—who is personally devoted to Burgundy wines above all others—became known: a self-made legend who stalks through vineyards and tastes from oaken casks and sails the seas with importers and film stars.

Today, Haskell’s is the largest purveyor of fine wines—based on sales—in the Midwest, outside of Chicago. There are 10 stores, including two franchises (in Plymouth and Faribault) and a company-owned store in Naples, Florida. In all, 70,000 square feet of retail space, 80 percent of it dedicated to wine.

Haskell’s holds a Nickel Sale (there used to be bottles for five cents; now prices all end with five cents) each spring. April and May sales routinely top 1 million bottles. Annually, the company sells more than 2.5 million bottles. Gross revenue for 2007 is “significantly north of $35 million,” Farrell says.

Only 5 to 6 percent of sales are on line, but he wants to change that as the legal restrictions on shipping wine soften: “We regard the Internet as another potential store—a big one.”

Some business comes from outside Minnesota. Over the years, Haskell’s has cultivated devoted customers in Washington, New York, and L.A. by word of mouth. In the 1980s, Ronald Reagan’s staff used to call Farrell in to consult whenever they were staging an important dinner. Chief Justice Warren Burger, a St. Paul native, was a customer. And Frank Sinatra used to stop at Haskell’s whenever he came to Minneapolis. Farrell won’t name current names, but says Haskell’s still sells to “lots of celebrities.”

He bought out his partners long ago and his four sons have since joined the business, which now employs 145 people.

Ask Farrell why he’s been so successful and he’ll tell you first that it was a right time, right place sort of deal. Wine has grown in popularity and sales every year for the past 20, while spirits, hard liquor, and beer have had a concurrent decline. The world and Jack Farrell were in sync, a mighty stroke of good luck.

The next thing he’ll tell you—which others will confirm—is that he works hard and loves his job. But this, you understand, is so much whistling in the wind. Plenty of people work 12-hour days at jobs they love—aspiring novelists, restaurant owners, day traders—and a lot of them fail. Wine shops fail, or they subsist, selling cases of Kendall Jackson, no matter how diligent or knowledgeable their owners.

It’s a fact that Farrell has a good palate, but he himself will tell you it’s not truly great. He has limitless gusto and can “taste ahead,” predicting fairly accurately how a particular vintage will age. But he is not the sort of savant who can sip from glasses while blindfolded and name the year, grape, and maker of each wine.