City Paper is not for tourists
The Drink: Teacher Creature
The Location: The Brickskeller, 1523 22nd St. NW, (202) 293-1885
The Price: $6.50
The Buzz: My late father was never much of a cocktail drinker. He left that to his first wife, my mother, who still prefers to socialize with a gin-and-tonic in one hand and a cigarette in the other. I’m more of a mama’s boy when it comes to drinking—-have fun with that line, you flaming poo-throwers of the blog world!—-but every year around this time I get that empty feeling in my chest as Hallmark, Macy’s, and just about any place that sells hammers starts cranking up the Father’s Day guilt machinery. Even though my dad preferred the simple pleasures of a six-piece set of precision screwdrivers over the blowzy ones of a screwdriver in a highball glass, he was known to knock back a can of beer or two in his younger days. So this Father’s Day, I thought I’d raise a glass of Teacher Creature in his memory. Actually, I think he might have liked this concoction. It’s the kind of drink that back in the ’60s, when he was still vital, he might have described as “putting hair on your chest.” Despite its goofy handle—-could it be named after Teacher’s scotch?—-the Teacher Creature speaks with a burr as thick as Sean Connery‘s when he’s chasing skirts. The Brickskeller’s version combines Claymore blended scotch whisky with Belhaven ale, and Drambuie, that scotch-and-honey-and-god-knows-what-else liqueur. The drink tastes of roasted malts, anise, honey, and your father’s medicine cabinet. Then the scotch burn kicks in—-that pleasant reminder that some of life’s joys aren’t sugary sweet. Like the memory of a father who died too young.