THE BITTER TRUTH
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Behind the scenes of the city’s favorite cringe-inducing drink
by Lyndsey McKenna
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The liquor’s flavor has been compared to motor oil, jet fuel, acid rain and sewage. The marketing director for the liquor’s original producer compares the taste to driving through Gary, Indiana, in a convertible with your mouth open. Paul Hletko, the founder of Evanston’s FEW Spirits, says the liquor evokes the flavor of condoms you find in a back alleyway, or the sadness of waking up alone after a break up.
Despite its taste, Malört is notorious in the City of the Big Shoulders, and its popularity has only continued to skyrocket citywide in recent years. You can find Jeppson’s Malört on tap at trendy Scofflaw in Logan Square. You can sip on a Letherbee Bësk cocktail at The Violet Hour in Wicker Park. You can shoot the stuff straight at almost any bar at the Six Points intersection of North, Damen and Milwaukee in Wicker Park. And at Stephanie Izard’s famed Girl & the Goat, you can ease into the night with a sample of FEW’s version, the Anguish and Regret Malört.
And though it’s nearly impossible to find Malört beyond the city limits, the liquor is now the subject of a short documentary, “This Story Will Never End,” by local filmmaker Marc Pearlman.
Malört is, broadly speaking, a type of wormwood liquor notable for its extreme bitterness. Chicagoans can thank Carl Jeppson a Swedish immigrant, for its arrival in the city. Even prohibition couldn’t stop the sale of Jeppson’s brand of Malört—he sold the product door to door as a medicinal drink.
The liquor continued to sell modestly once sold to a Chicago-based company owned by George Brode. Brode has since passed, and the company is now run by Patricia Gabelick, who was willed Jeppson’s by Brode and continues the operation from her apartment.
It was as if someone took the blinders off, I saw everything differently. It was eye opening.
For years, Malört was known as a blue-collar workingman’s drink in the city. In recent years, Malört’s legendary bitter aftertaste has tempted many thrill-seekers. First-time consumers often react with visible disgust upon consumption, resulting in what is known as “Malört Face.” But Malört’s current renaissance is likely a result of Chicago’s trendy drinking scene.
Even artisan distilleries have taken note and now are making their own versions of the drink. Robby Haynes, a Violet Hour veteran now at Logan Square’s Analogue, teamed up with Letherbee, a Chicago-based craft distillery to create a boutique wormwood liquor inspired by Malört known as Letherbee Bësk. The intention was merely to use the recipe for a seasonal cocktail at the Violet Hour, but the liquor proved to be enormously successful.
“We were making cocktails with it, but we had people coming in the front door, just wanting to try it,” he said. “So we wanted to try it on a larger scale, and we presented it to our distributer in Chicago. It snowballed, and now we’re in 10 to 15 states all over country.”
According to Paul Hletko, founder of FEW Spirits, his company releases new batches of its Anguish and Regret Malört every few months.
“We seemed to have opened a pathway to hell, and Anguish and Regret continues to flow from that pathway,” said Hletko.
And, of course, Jeppson’s Malört, the original remains, now more popular than ever before.
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But why is it that Chicagoans are not just willing to endure, but profess to love, a drink so bitter and so potent that it was once used to treat women’s menstrual cramps?
Even its most devoted fans will concede that Malört isn’t for the faint of heart. The liquid seems to burn as it falls down your throat; the aftertaste lingers and mocks and refuses to fade. It’s a shot most people consume on a dare, just once, and immediately regret. When you order it, the bartender may appear confused, or politely suggest something else altogether, or smile knowlingly and eagerly await the look on your face.
For Haynes, his first Malört experience was life-altering.
“It was as if someone took the blinders off, I saw everything differently,” he said. “It was a jarring experience, but I wondered how I had lived without it for so long. It was eye opening.”
And while Malört’s popularity may be driven by its novelty, Malört’s longevity is almost certainly due to the loyalty of Chicagoans. For Marc Pearlman, director of “This Story Will Never End,” the documentary on Jeppson’s Malört, the drink’s history is intrinsically tied to the city.
“Jeppson’s isn’t going anywhere,” he said. “It may change hands, but it’s a part of this city. It’s got the stars on the bottle for a reason. It’s bigger than the bottle.”
Though with Malört it may not be love at first sip for most, many keep trying.
As Pearlman puts it, “For people that say they hate it, well, it eventually finds a way.”
