"Weeding out the Weak" with Malört
A salute to Chicago’s native spirit
“Most first-time drinkers of Jeppson Malört reject our liquor. Its strong, sharp taste is not for everyone. Our liquor is rugged and unrelenting (even brutal) to the palate. During almost 60 years of American distribution, we found only 1 out of 49 men will drink Jeppson Malört.”
-Original label, Jeppson Malört
My attempt at a custom Malört-containing cocktail. The spirit even comes in these mini bottles, for when you absolutely, positively need Malört on an airplane.
There is no other spirit more closely tied to its native city than Malört.
Malört makes up one-half of the infamous “Chicago Handshake” which—if you’re doing it properly—is a shot of Malört and a pint (or tall boy) of Old Style lager. Accept no substitutes.
It’s also long been a rite of passage for out-of-towners to take a shot of Malört courtesy of their local friends. This seeming gesture of good will toward the visitor soon turns entertaining for the locals, as their friend takes the shot and is assaulted by a bracing bitterness and viscous mouthfeel that lingers on the periphery of their tastebuds for the rest of the night.
First-timers’ reaction to the shot is commonly known as “Malört face” – searching #malortface on Instagram reveals almost 6,000 results.
Editors have spilled a lot of ink on articles about people tasting Malört for the first time and sharing hyperbolic descriptions like “burning garbage and Ricola” or “if shame and regret were left to ferment before being distilled through an old, sweaty shoe” or, as Jason Sudekis says in the film Drinking Buddies, “like swallowing a burnt condom full of gas.”
And yet, despite its taste and reputation, or likely because of it, Malört continues to sell. It can even be found outside of Chicago, which for many years was unthinkable.
That said, with its higher profile and popularity, it’s become almost impossible to surprise your friends with a shot of Malört. And I’m glad, because Malört deserves to be respected as much more than just a prank or fodder for a meme.
Because, friends, Malört is good.
This is an honest spirit that is up-front about what it offers. It’s challenging to mix—although not impossible, as we’ll see—but even when it’s in a cocktail, there’s no hiding it.
On the nose, Malört is floral, almost perfume-like, with only a hint of wormwood lurking beneath the surface. On the first sip—for a fraction of a second—there’s a sweetness that quickly gives way to that characteristic bitter wormwood amidst some herbal notes.
But bitter is indeed the name of the game here. It’s accompanied by a gentle warmth—Malört clocks in at 70 proof—but there’s no real heat, which makes it an easy shooter. As I mentioned earlier, this is a viscous liqueur, with legs if you swirl it around a glass. That characteristic helps its strong flavor stick around for a while. You’ll taste it on the back of your tongue and in your throat for a long time, but eventually it’ll fade to vague numbness on your tongue and an almost grapefruit-like aftertaste.
That’s Malört.
So how should you drink it?
For starters, you can shoot it. Although—trust me on this—it’s easier as a sipper. Less overwhelming to the palate.
But you can mix it into a cocktail. The very first Malört cocktail I ever tried—and one of my favorites to this day—is The Hard Sell, created by Chicago bartender Brad Bolt.
The Hard Sell
0.75 oz Malört
0.75 oz London Dry Gin (original recipe calls for Beefeater)
0.75 oz Lemon juice (fresh squeezed)
0.75 oz St. Germain Elderflower Liqueur
1 twist grapefruit peel
Combine all ingredients into a shaker tin. Add ice, shake, strain into a coupe or a Nick and Nora glass. Express the grapefruit peel over the top and then toss the peel behind your shoulder in dramatic fashion.
Anyway, The Hard Sell is terrific. Bright, refreshing and still unmistakably Malört. The St. Germain does a lot of lifting here, filling its role as “bartender’s ketchup” because it makes almost any cocktail taste good. No exception here. This works.
Some recipes bump up the St. Germain to a full ounce and others add 0.25 oz of simple syrup, which makes this a little more palatable. But as someone who actually likes Malört, I stick with the equal parts here.
What about Malört in a supporting role?
As I was thinking about a custom cocktail for this newsletter, my mind instantly went to: How can we lean into those grapefruit notes in Malört? And how could we incorporate Malört as a substitute for other bitter liqueurs?
I couldn’t shake the idea of trying to riff on one of my favorite drinks, the Negroni. Could it work? Jury’s still kind of out, but here’s what I came up with.
The Insufferable Bastard Grapefruit Negroni
1 oz grapefruit juice (fresh squeezed)
1 oz London dry gin (Beefeater)
1 oz sweet vermouth (Cocchi di Torino)
0.5 oz Malört
Combine all ingredients into a shaker tin. Add ice. Shake. Strain into a rocks glass over a large piece of ice or two. Garnish with a grapefruit peel.
So the verdict here is… Not bad! It’s crisp, with the grapefruit making itself known up-front and the Malört sitting in the background, only to assert itself a little toward the finish. It’s bitter, but probably no more so than a standard Negroni or Amaro-containing cocktail. This one needs some more tinkering, and it’s not quite balanced, but as a proof-of-concept, I like it. You can probably come up with something better.
So there you go. Malört: A complex, challenging spirit for even two-fisted drinkers. Get out there and become “1 in 49 men” who not only will drink it, but enjoy it.