meet patrick bruce,
the owner
Thistle didn't change hands. It changed stewards.
Patrick has been with Thistle since the beginning in 2010, coming in with nearly two decades of hospitality experience behind him: from Spago at Caesars Palace, to managing the opening of Lupo at Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas, to extensive service in or management of Portland high-end, high-volume staples, such as South Park, Andina, and El Gaucho. The latter is where he originally met Emily, Thistle's co-founder, and when Thistle first opened in 2009, he told her, "If you ever put a bar in, let me know." Shortly thereafter, he moved to McMinnville and never left.
For the next almost two decades, Thistle became Patrick's home, where he worked the floor and the bar. Thistle won Oregonian Restaurant of the Year in 2011, and the next year won the Oregonian Readers' Choice Favorite Bar, but awards weren't what made all the work memorable. It was what Patrick witnessed from behind that bar.
During harvest season, the room would fill with people from all over the world. A winemaker might walk in with a jeroboam of Beaujolais he just made and say, "Let's make cocktails out of this." Locals came back week after week, year after year. A couple even got married by Patrick at the bar. People met at that bar and fell in love. Some got married, and their kids now come around. Thistle became a hub where lives happily intersected, so when Emily needed to step away from running the restaurant, Patrick was the natural choice to take the reigns. He knew the rhythms, the regulars, the soul.
After Patrick took over, he chose preservation over change. Thistle's roots and philosophy are what mattered. To Patrick, that meant protecting something that can't be bought or manufactured; soul you can feel the moment you step in. It's everywhere: the lighting, the vibe, the music, the people. As McMinnville's wine country evolves, Patrick wants to preserve Thistle for what it’s always been: the same 22 seats, the same farm relationships, the same commitment to seasonal quality, and the same dedication to the community that became his home.
Patrick calls himself a facilitator. "My job is to make everyone shine," he says, “and give them an environment that encourages people,” referring to Thistle’s talented crew. “Guests hopefully feel that when they first walk in, because the light comes from everyone here.”
Most nights, you'll now find Patrick on the floor now, not behind the bar. He‘s better able to sense the room and connect with each table’s needs. After almost two decades, some regulars have told him they miss seeing him behind the bar, which speaks to the relationships he's built throughout the years, but being on the floor allows Patrick to flex the breadth of his experience providing decades of fine dining experiences.
"There's an older gentleman who comes in whose wife had recently passed away,” Patrick recalls. “They used to come here together. She wrote a list of things he had to do after she was gone. Coming to Thistle was on that list."
He pauses.
"That is why I do this, and it’s worth more than any accolades."
meet john thomas,
the executive chef
from the ocean to the chalkboard…
John didn't grow up dreaming about kitchens. His summers spent commercial fishing with his grandfather out of Newport on the Oregon coast are what actually taught him what matters most. He was also raised in Independence and Monmouth, Oregon, surrounded by farmers, loggers, and people who worked with their hands. During summers, he'd head to the coast with his grandfather.
"One time I cut up and dressed a coho salmon and then immediately cooked it in a cast-iron pan I already had preheating, just straight from of the ocean," John remembers. "It never left the boat, and that's how I came to understand what ‘fresh’ really means."
He grew up fishing, hunting, picking berries, and buying half a cow from family friends. If they ate it at home, they always knew where it came from.
Before Thistle, John spent years working in restaurant kitchens all over the world, including a stint in Montana, but he was missing the deeper connection to the local food sourcing he grew up with. That changed when he met Jason Fritz, who'd been Thistle's Executive Chef for over a decade. The first time John was able to treat his mom to a nice dinner, he chose Thistle. They sat at a cozy, two-person table with Fritz in the kitchen. Fritz then became his mentor, and when Thistle needed a new chef, Fritz knew exactly who to call. Thistle already meant something to John. Now, John's the one leading the kitchen, having become Thistle's Executive Chef in July of 2025 at only 28-years-old, two years ahead of the goal he'd originally set for himself.
The menu changes daily because the micro-seasons of the Willamette Valley dictate what's available. In-season ingredients always come first, then the menu follows. John works with 19 different Willamette Valley suppliers—from farmers, to ranchers, to foragers, to bakers, to fishmongers. Throughout the week, deliveries arrive: microgreens on Mondays, sorrels on Thursdays, mushrooms coming from Amity. The fishmonger texts John when the catch is just right. During the growing season, you’ll find John at the McMinnville Farmer’s Market, picking up what is in season and looks best, and then the menu starts coming together in his head on the walk back to the restaurant.
John’s creativity comes from observation. Cantaloupe and hatch chilies ended up in the same bag—they become a dish. Blackberry vines grow around every cow pasture in Oregon—birds eat berries, perch on fence posts, and scatter seeds. So, blackberries and beef belong together. "If it grows together, it goes together," John says.
"Thistle is for the people. We want Thistle to be accessible to everyone—the partnering farmers who supply us, the local community that supports us, and the guests discovering and exploring everything McMinnville wine country has to offer.”
That commitment to community has deep roots in John's childhood. Growing up in Independence and Monmouth, some of his earliest food memories came from the Hispanic community around him: grandmas whose names he never knew (but whom he'd call Abuela), carne asada at backyard gatherings, street vendors selling oranges and tamales. You can taste those influences in his cooking. His rabbit rillette is a French technique studded with ancho and guajillo chilies. It’s not fusion. It’s John’s way of honoring both traditions.
From his grandfather's boat, to backyard carne asada, to traveling the world, to an unforgettable dinner with his mom—John eventually found his home at Thistle.