I do not fear Malört

When our fambly gathered for Thanksgiving, the grown-ups, most of us, had a taste of Jeppson’s Malört, “a traditional wormwood-based digestif.” It’s a Chicago thing, a famously horrific-tasting liqueur with a Wikipedia article.

Having sampled Malört, I think the reports of its awfulness are greatly exaggerated. It may be that I lack the taste buds necessary to grimace at the bitterness. Or it may be that I possess the taste buds necessary to appreciate the bitterness. (Come to think of it, I’ve loved Brussels sprouts since childhood.) I found Malört reminiscent of retsina, with a vaguely antiseptic taste and what a Scotch drinker would call an oily finish. An oily finish is a good thing.

Would I seek out Malört again? Nah. But I’m glad I tried it.

Fun fact: a shot of Malört followed by a beer, Hamm’s or Old Style, is known as a Chicago handshake. At least that’s what I was told when I bought Malört. There were no shots for us — just one miniature, poured out in sips.