photograph by bruce vanwyngarden
Allan Creasy with a sampler tray of four four-ounce pours: Lucid Kolsch, GonerBrau, Dockside, and The Judge.
The first thing Allan Creasy did when he graduated from high school was buy a house. Which lets you know right away that he’s something of an original thinker. And probably good at managing money.
“I was a nerdy, introverted kid growing up,” he says. “I needed a job in high school, so I applied at every bookstore that’s now been put out of business by Amazon. The only place that would hire me was Johnny Rockets in Wolfchase Galleria, waiting tables. It was one of those places where we had to sing and dance every time certain songs came on the jukebox. So, in a way, the restaurant community was responsible for bringing me out of my shell.”
For a newly 16-year-old song-and-dance man, $5.15 an hour felt like real money. Creasy was soon promoted to service coordinator at twice the pay, and started putting it away.
“Since I was still living at home, I didn’t have any expenses,” he says. “And I got an academic scholarship to the University of Memphis.”
So he bought a house. “My parents had to co-sign, but it was all my money. I just didn’t want to pay rent,” he says. Smart kid.
After graduating with a degree in history and a minor in English, Creasy was ready to face the world. “I was totally qualified to serve beer,” he says, laughing. “People asked me why I didn’t use my degree, but the fact is, I was already making more money than I would as a teacher, and I found that I liked working in the restaurant community. And I enjoyed being able to tell stories.”
After stints at Dan McGuinness and La Montagne, Creasy landed the gig in 2005 that made him Memphis-famous — bartending at Celtic Crossing, the Irish pub in Cooper-Young. Those were heady days, with packed houses for nightly (and early-morning) soccer games.Celtic was a hub for soccer fans and for the Indian and European immigrant communities, and Creasy was the maestro behind the bar, always finishing first, second, or third as the city’s “Best Bartender” in the Memphis Flyer’s annual Best of Memphis contest.
The Judge is without question the first porter I’ve ever liked. Not just tolerated. Liked.
“I used to joke with Dave Parks [another legendary Memphis bartender],” says Creasy. “We were always in the top three. It was so unfair. I can’t do one-tenth of what Parks can do, but I had a much bigger clientele.”
The 2010s were big at Celtic, and it’s still thriving, a cornerstone of the Cooper-Young dining scene, but after the pandemic it transitioned into more of a dinner and lunch place, less of a late-night nightclub, and Creasy moved on.
He’s long been active in local progressive politics. He ran for a state House seat in 2018, does fundraising for local PACs, and currently runs social media for the Memphis Labor Council, which puts him at the center of any union activity in Memphis and West Tennessee. He also ran field operations for Van Turner’s mayoral run last fall.
But Creasy hasn’t totally given up bartending. “I run Trivia Night at Memphis Made Brewing Co. on Thursday nights,” he says, “and I’m usually behind the bar on Friday nights.” And he’s behind the bar as I’m speaking with him, so I ask him what brew he would suggest I try.
“When it gets cold, like today, I like a stout or porter,” he says, “so I’d recommend The Judge, our chocolate vanilla porter.”
“Ehhh, I’m not big on thick, heavy, or sweet beers,” I confess. “What else would you recommend?”
“How about a sampler tray — four four-ounce pours? That way you can decide for yourself?”
“Perfect,” I decide.
After a couple minutes, Creasy sets the tray on the bar. He’s serving me Lucid Kolsch, GonerBrau, Dockside, and, yes, The Judge.
A quick review: Lucid Kolsch is crispy, light, tasty, a great “lawnmower beer”; Dockside is a smooth, dry wheat ale, good stuff; GonerBrau is a nice pilsner that I’ve had many times. It was my favorite of the beers I tasted.
Or at least it was until I tried The Judge, which is without question the first porter I’ve ever liked. Not just tolerated. Liked. There was a light, sweet finish, but it was beer through and through, not coffee, not fruit juice, not motor oil. I apologize, your honor. I was out of order. The Judge is more than fair.
Creasy refrains from any “I told you so” jibes. He is something of a politician, after all. But I’d bet, uh, the house he was thinking it. So, anyway, go to Memphis Made Brewing and try their beers. If you stop by on Thursday or Friday, tell Allan Creasy hi. And don’t feel guilty for liking The Judge.
Memphis Made Brewing Co. is located at 768 South Cooper.