You famously hitchhiked to Aspen in 1978 with $75 in your pocket…
I was a lost youth, growing up during the Vietnam War in Madison, Wisconsin.... A friend of mine in Aspen and I had been writing letters back and forth. When I arrived, there was a place in town called Alice’s Alley with four pool tables and a dart board, where all the fun people hung out. I went in there my first night and parlayed $75 into $225. I found a campsite and bathed in the river every day.

And you worked in construction. When did you make the switch to hospitality?
In 1983 I got a job as a busboy at Charlemagne restaurant, on Fifth and Main. This was the first time I ever saw the “wine guy”—they weren’t called sommeliers back then. Here I am, cleaning toilets and scrubbing floors, and I see this guy wearing fancy suits and talking to people. That was the first time I tasted French wine: Puligny-Montrachet. I thought, “Man, this is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted in my life.” I had some sort of inherent palate for wine. I started to read books.

Fast-forward to 1996: You passed the Master Sommelier exam in London—as only the 30th person in the world to do so.
I took the master’s exam in 1995 in San Francisco and had a miserable showing. I choked on service, dropped a tray of glasses. They told me to quit the program. That didn’t set well with me as a gambler and a games guy, so I stopped everything and read wine books nonstop for another year. One of my mentors, James Sandner from Chicago, told me I had something special and he was going to send me to London to take this exam. I’d never been overseas. I’d already taken the exam twice. I was scared. I told him I wasn’t gonna do it because I was training for the Leadville 100 bike race. I climbed to the top of Shadow Mountain and realized I was afraid of losing. I wrote on the front of my notebook: “Confidence is all. Believe in yourself. Practice makes perfect.” I read that every single day. And I passed.

Some locals you’ve worked with here refer to you as “Papa Fletch,” given the impact you’ve had on Aspen’s wine scene.
Because my life got so good, I wanted to give back. I started teaching for the Court of Master Sommeliers and did the first introductory exam in Aspen in 1997—and then for 20 years running. We held the advanced exam at The Nell in 2008 and I brought the master’s exam here in 2009. We have more certified wine professionals in Aspen—and pass more master sommeliers—per capita than anywhere in the world. Now we have five or six advanced sommeliers, 30 or 40 certified sommeliers, and three masters. 

Does Aspen itself give sommeliers an edge? 
It’s a great opportunity to be a somm here because we get to taste the greatest wines in the world. We’re in the middle of the country and wines are allocated [everywhere]. Two cases of Screaming Eagle come into the state; one and a half cases are coming to Aspen. We have some of the best restaurant cellars in the country. We get it all because people can afford to buy it.

What was it like to return to “the floor” in 2021 as Matsuhisa Aspen beverage director, after a 20-year hiatus? 
It was difficult, physically, in my 60s to work the floor eight hours without pain.... I used to huff two cases of wine at a time; I ain’t doing that again. Ya know, I lost 15 pounds! I became more dynamic. And I crushed the numbers. I have a good team. We’re a smooth-running ship.

How is your job at Matsu different from past roles? 
I did fine dining my whole life: two courses, maybe three, with one or two wines each. Here the service of beverages is wonky. You might have sake, then a cocktail, and a cocktail, and a sake, and a beer, then wine! It’s mayhem. Which gives us this messy vitality. 

What’s your reaction to the February New York Times article declaring “the twilight of the American sommelier” and deeming post-pandemic wine professionals as “expendable”?
That is ridiculous and people who write that don’t know the restaurant business. Without a trained beverage professional, you’re never gonna make money. I can run a $2 million program with one assistant. To do $2 million in food, you need about 10 guys in the kitchen.... The diner needs someone like me to help him through the [wine list]. It can be overwhelming. 

Do people still recognize you from [the 2012 documentary film] Somm?
That movie turned the sommelier into a celebrity, and kind of ruined it. The arrogant somm is a big turnoff for everybody, especially me. We’re not celebrities, we’re glorified servants. That’s Service 101: You do things as quickly and efficiently as possible and engage when you need to. Otherwise, you’re a robot.