This just in: Malört, the bitter wormwood liqueur long popular across greater Chicagoland, is going national. The Windy City’s greatest secret is out, and you're now just as likely to find this bartender’s handshake in a Bushwick cocktail bar as you are at a South Side dive. Originally introduced by Swedish immigrants to Chicago in the early 1900s, the infused brännvin was sold as medicine to treat stomach ailments during prohibition. Known for its infamously unappealing flavor, harshly bitter and synthetic, generations of Chicagoans have considered a shot of to be something of a rite of passage, as well as something to make your unassuming friends from out of town try. For a long time, it was unheard of outside the metro area.
That era of mischief and obscurity may fast be coming to a close as Jeppsons (the company that produces Malört) is making bottles more available at bars and liquor stores across the country. Don’t believe me? Use this tool on their website to check for availability in your area. It’s not quite everywhere yet, but you’ll see it is no longer confined to northeastern Illinois.
The one and only time I visited Chicago, years ago, I made sure to sneak in a shot of Malört on my last night. It tasted like gasoline, citrus pith, over-steeped tea, and paint thinner. It was a barrage of very strong flavors. In all honesty, I didn’t think it tasted awful, but it certainly checked all the boxes to be an “industry shot.” Think something bitter, burning, otherwise off-putting to outsiders but reinvigorating to the desensitized. There is a point of pride in braving a shot, a rush of intensity and flavor.
Chicago’s favorite (or least favorite) drink seems uniquely poised to take over that role on a national scale, and they seem to be trying to do just that. Imagine my surprise when, three years after my initial run in with the spirit on its home turf, I saw a bottle peeking over the bar of a dive in Oklahoma City.
Apparently, the bartender told me, sales reps from Jeppsons came to town and pitched the liqueur hard, and their pavement pounding has paid off. Much to the bartender’s surprise, he’s been selling dozens of shots on some busy nights, often to industry insiders looking for a cheap thrill but also, he says to “regular people” that seem to take some kind of sick pleasure in forcing their friends to down the concoction.
If you think I’m being harsh on Malört, I’m not sure Jeppsons would agree. Part of their recent success has come from leaning hard into their reputation, and their marketing often revolves unabashedly around the spirit’s intensity and difficult flavor.
With the popular rise of amari, however, the public palate is becoming more open to experiencing bitter flavors in their beverages. And if you’re not down to take a whole shot of a spirit I just compared to gasoline, some bars, such as the Honore Club in Bushwick, are starting to serve cocktails like the Hard Sell, a mixture of gin, elderflower liqueur, and Malört. While we don’t have a recipe for that (yet), we have a feeling that a ½ ounce of Malört would add a new dimension to this Gin, Ginger Beer, and Elderflower Fizz.
Jeppson’s Malört has long been a point of pride for Chicagoans, and there’s certain to be some growing pains as they expand beyond the Midwest. So far, their efforts have proven that the appeal of this peculiar and ironically beloved beverage transcends city and state boundaries.
Have you tried Malört yourself, or are you interested in giving it a shot? Let us know what you think in the comments!
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