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Malört: The Redemption of a Revered and Reviled Spirit
"As I am someone who has grown to actually like Malört, you may doubt my taste. But Josh Noel's exploration of this most maligned spirit is funny, fascinating, and surprisingly delicious." —John Hodgman, comedian and author of Medallion Status
Malört may be the worst thing you'll ever taste.
Known primarily for its intense bitterness, the infamous Chicago liqueur has been compared to "a forest fire, if the forest was made of earwax." Yet lurking in the horror and the mockery lies the truth of Malört: we keep going back for more. For nearly a hundred years, we've gone back.
Jeppson's Malört could have died a hundred deaths in that time. Its survival wasn't always a given. It also was no accident. There was one man's dogged persistence. One woman's patience and dedication. There were cultural shifts and fortunate timing that helped transform a drink rooted in centuries-old Swedish tradition into the American sensation it is today.
Malört is a story of love, relationships, and how one generation finds meaning where generations before did not. Such transformations happen in art, in history, and in food, and it happened to Jeppson's Malört.
Author and beer expert Josh Noel unpacks a uniquely American tale, equal parts culture, business, and personal relationships—involving secret love, federal prison, a David vs. Goliath court battle, and, ultimately, the 2018 sale of Jeppson's Malört, which made Pat Gabelick, a 75-year-old Chicago woman who spent much of her life as a legal secretary, into an unlikely millionaire.
Malört isn't just the story of one brazen liquor—it is the story of modern tastes and cultural shifts.
Malört may be the worst thing you'll ever taste.
Known primarily for its intense bitterness, the infamous Chicago liqueur has been compared to "a forest fire, if the forest was made of earwax." Yet lurking in the horror and the mockery lies the truth of Malört: we keep going back for more. For nearly a hundred years, we've gone back.
Jeppson's Malört could have died a hundred deaths in that time. Its survival wasn't always a given. It also was no accident. There was one man's dogged persistence. One woman's patience and dedication. There were cultural shifts and fortunate timing that helped transform a drink rooted in centuries-old Swedish tradition into the American sensation it is today.
Malört is a story of love, relationships, and how one generation finds meaning where generations before did not. Such transformations happen in art, in history, and in food, and it happened to Jeppson's Malört.
Author and beer expert Josh Noel unpacks a uniquely American tale, equal parts culture, business, and personal relationships—involving secret love, federal prison, a David vs. Goliath court battle, and, ultimately, the 2018 sale of Jeppson's Malört, which made Pat Gabelick, a 75-year-old Chicago woman who spent much of her life as a legal secretary, into an unlikely millionaire.
Malört isn't just the story of one brazen liquor—it is the story of modern tastes and cultural shifts.
264 pages, Paperback
Published September 3, 2024
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2173 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 67 reviews
July 17, 2024
This book is a history of the digestif known as Jeppson's Malört.
To discuss anything related to Malört is fraught, and not just because I had to learn the Unicode for Swedish letters. Malört is a sort magical potion that creates jokes. Immediately after imbibing it, a profane poetry arises as the drinker tries to describe the taste, the experience, of the drink. Indeed, this truth is central to the narrative told here.
The problem, then, is that every review and comment section about this book is going to be flush with tight fives on the stuff. So I guess here's my audition:
Jeppson's, which is either a malört or the Malört™, is a type of besk, a Swedish herbal liquor. Its main ingredient is wormwood, which is the same as in its cousin, absinthe, except the fairy looks like Bill Swerski.
Malört is the headlight fluid of Chicago. It is a hazing ritual enacted with the utmost seriousness. Chicago is notorious about gatekeeping who is or is not a Chicagoan. Malört is the countervailing energy of the City. It is the open membership secret society. No one is from Chicago; you can only let being from Chicago happen to you. Just drink this shot. Quickly.
The book has several levels. Much like the alcohol itself, there are flavors that only hit after its conclusion.
It is a Chicago fairy tale. It is the story of immigrants bringing their own unique cultural contributions and finding a more unique way to express them in the interest of turning a coin. It is the story of people refusing to quit, not out of any conventional emotion like hope or anger but because quitting would be the rational choice. It is the story of turning brash honesty into money and making feeling bad about it into a virtue. In this story, following your bliss manifests into a dream job. Repeatedly.
Like all Chicago stories, it is about gentrification. It is about the creative destruction of business. It is about appropriation, refracting so much that no one is clear on who stole what from whom. It is coolness as a business. It is about selling out, which is odd, because no one in the book sells out. But the dilemmas of the concept of selling out, the question of what is true identity and how best that identity is served is to the core of the book.
Like I said, it is a fairy tale. But it is the dark, ambiguous sort of fairy tale, the after credits shot of Queen Snow looking stale at a state dinner. This is the aspect that gives the book its most Malört-like attribute. It is not the taste that gets you, but the aftertaste that floats around like a lousy lover. That's what gets you. The narrative is a success story. So why do I feel sad?
It is also a great business history. The story here is a case study in how an outsider brand can be successful, including the debates over the core principals and who the business is meant to serve. This is scholarship of the 100+ year arc of a personality-driven business, and how that intersects with the modern business world. There is much to learn in the study here.
There are a number of points of contention about Jeppson's Malört , so when I first picked up the book, I was worried that this would be a piece of access journalism set to follow the party line. And it is, or it does, but I do credit the author for stating opposing views clearly enough that I feel none were slighted. Some may disagree.
And unlike some histories, the story is functionally at its beginning, with the play into national distribution. As much as a book of a hundred years of history, it is a book for the future hundred years to see how it all plays out.
I recommend it to any reader as the sort of real life happy story, with bite, that is far too rare to find. I do not need to recommend it to fans of Chicago history, as they all already have it on order.
My thanks to the author, Josh Noel, for writing the book, and to the publisher, Chicago Review Press, for making the ARC available to me.
To discuss anything related to Malört is fraught, and not just because I had to learn the Unicode for Swedish letters. Malört is a sort magical potion that creates jokes. Immediately after imbibing it, a profane poetry arises as the drinker tries to describe the taste, the experience, of the drink. Indeed, this truth is central to the narrative told here.
The problem, then, is that every review and comment section about this book is going to be flush with tight fives on the stuff. So I guess here's my audition:
Jeppson's, which is either a malört or the Malört™, is a type of besk, a Swedish herbal liquor. Its main ingredient is wormwood, which is the same as in its cousin, absinthe, except the fairy looks like Bill Swerski.
Malört is the headlight fluid of Chicago. It is a hazing ritual enacted with the utmost seriousness. Chicago is notorious about gatekeeping who is or is not a Chicagoan. Malört is the countervailing energy of the City. It is the open membership secret society. No one is from Chicago; you can only let being from Chicago happen to you. Just drink this shot. Quickly.
The book has several levels. Much like the alcohol itself, there are flavors that only hit after its conclusion.
It is a Chicago fairy tale. It is the story of immigrants bringing their own unique cultural contributions and finding a more unique way to express them in the interest of turning a coin. It is the story of people refusing to quit, not out of any conventional emotion like hope or anger but because quitting would be the rational choice. It is the story of turning brash honesty into money and making feeling bad about it into a virtue. In this story, following your bliss manifests into a dream job. Repeatedly.
Like all Chicago stories, it is about gentrification. It is about the creative destruction of business. It is about appropriation, refracting so much that no one is clear on who stole what from whom. It is coolness as a business. It is about selling out, which is odd, because no one in the book sells out. But the dilemmas of the concept of selling out, the question of what is true identity and how best that identity is served is to the core of the book.
Like I said, it is a fairy tale. But it is the dark, ambiguous sort of fairy tale, the after credits shot of Queen Snow looking stale at a state dinner. This is the aspect that gives the book its most Malört-like attribute. It is not the taste that gets you, but the aftertaste that floats around like a lousy lover. That's what gets you. The narrative is a success story. So why do I feel sad?
It is also a great business history. The story here is a case study in how an outsider brand can be successful, including the debates over the core principals and who the business is meant to serve. This is scholarship of the 100+ year arc of a personality-driven business, and how that intersects with the modern business world. There is much to learn in the study here.
There are a number of points of contention about Jeppson's Malört , so when I first picked up the book, I was worried that this would be a piece of access journalism set to follow the party line. And it is, or it does, but I do credit the author for stating opposing views clearly enough that I feel none were slighted. Some may disagree.
And unlike some histories, the story is functionally at its beginning, with the play into national distribution. As much as a book of a hundred years of history, it is a book for the future hundred years to see how it all plays out.
I recommend it to any reader as the sort of real life happy story, with bite, that is far too rare to find. I do not need to recommend it to fans of Chicago history, as they all already have it on order.
My thanks to the author, Josh Noel, for writing the book, and to the publisher, Chicago Review Press, for making the ARC available to me.
April 13, 2025
More than a historic account of a novelty, Noel tells the captivating local history of Malort as a business as much as a beverage. I was surprised at the craft and care taken to research and tell this story well. It honors the Malort legacy well by unabashedly approaching the bitter lingering question, “Why the hell do people like this?”
November 24, 2025
Honestly a fascinating read, a great story behind a ridiculous brand of liquor.
March 22, 2025
What a super fun read!
I caught a post from the author on the Chicago subreddit where he seemed funny, charming, and in on the joke, so I requested the book at the library.
Honestly wish I had bought it, because I would take it straight to Simon's Tavern to see if Scott Martin was around to sign it (forever thanks to Scott for making the bar sing happy birthday to me in Swedish and being incredibly chill about my husband losing a battle with gravity).
If you live in Chicago, you should read it. If you drink in Chicago, you definitely should read it. If you frequent dive bars in Chicago, you must read it.
There are layers here - very early adopters of a commitment without marriage, a running theme of passion for work that doesn't pay, the fascinating things that attract and repel and sometimes do both, the lengths that friendship can and can't go as it relates to business, and just the general goodness of a story set in Chicago.
I was worried it would have self-published vibes, and those fears were baseless. This is a well-executed, interesting, well-researched, emotional while also funny history of the people behind a beverage.
Recommend to anyone who's had a drink of Malört.
I caught a post from the author on the Chicago subreddit where he seemed funny, charming, and in on the joke, so I requested the book at the library.
Honestly wish I had bought it, because I would take it straight to Simon's Tavern to see if Scott Martin was around to sign it (forever thanks to Scott for making the bar sing happy birthday to me in Swedish and being incredibly chill about my husband losing a battle with gravity).
If you live in Chicago, you should read it. If you drink in Chicago, you definitely should read it. If you frequent dive bars in Chicago, you must read it.
There are layers here - very early adopters of a commitment without marriage, a running theme of passion for work that doesn't pay, the fascinating things that attract and repel and sometimes do both, the lengths that friendship can and can't go as it relates to business, and just the general goodness of a story set in Chicago.
I was worried it would have self-published vibes, and those fears were baseless. This is a well-executed, interesting, well-researched, emotional while also funny history of the people behind a beverage.
Recommend to anyone who's had a drink of Malört.
February 15, 2025
A surprisingly riveting slice of Chicago cultural history. I guess it makes me feel (kinda?) good that I’ve had a bottle of Malört in my liquor cabinet since it became available in Indy. I’ve also toyed with some Malört cocktails. The most hated among those who’ve tried it: one part Malört, three parts Green River Soda. It has been christened the “Green River Killer.”
November 23, 2024
A celebratory shot is in order
March 12, 2025
Honestly a really interesting history of Malort. Four stars because of one contradicting fact/editing error
August 10, 2024
Thanks to NetGalley and Chicago Review Press for the ARC.
I first heard of Malort on the YouTube channel How to Drink, when host Greg tried to make a decent mixed drink out of it. I've heard how disgusting it is, but I never knew why it's made that way. It's interesting to hear its history. Its story is part American Dream/underdog rising, part secret love story, and part warning of the dangers of greed. I liked how well-rounded the research was on the subject; Joel Noel captured the good, the bad, and most everything in between.
I first heard of Malort on the YouTube channel How to Drink, when host Greg tried to make a decent mixed drink out of it. I've heard how disgusting it is, but I never knew why it's made that way. It's interesting to hear its history. Its story is part American Dream/underdog rising, part secret love story, and part warning of the dangers of greed. I liked how well-rounded the research was on the subject; Joel Noel captured the good, the bad, and most everything in between.
September 11, 2024
An interesting story about how an obscure Chicago liquor plods along for decades and then suddenly, almost accidentally, clicks with the zeitgeist and goes viral. Noel uses Malört as a through line in an almost century long story of Chicago drinking culture.
Noel said in a podcast interview that he had a good bit of access to Malört's former owner and her multi-decade stash of original documents, and maybe that was too much of a good thing. There are a number of times where long excerpts of, say, old marketing copy or a Malört poem bog down the narrative. I'd normally skim those kind of passages, but I was listening to this on Audible on a drive to and from Chicago (seemed apropos) and so was stuck listening to every word.
And when the story crosses into the 21st Century and overlaps with Noel's time covering food and booze for the Chicago Tribune, he goes a bit too deep on the history of the craft cocktail movement. My eyes glazed over as he detailed the bartender genealogy linking Manhattan and Chicago cocktail bars.
All told, it's an interesting story that gets bogged down in places by too much information. A solid 3.3 stars.
Noel said in a podcast interview that he had a good bit of access to Malört's former owner and her multi-decade stash of original documents, and maybe that was too much of a good thing. There are a number of times where long excerpts of, say, old marketing copy or a Malört poem bog down the narrative. I'd normally skim those kind of passages, but I was listening to this on Audible on a drive to and from Chicago (seemed apropos) and so was stuck listening to every word.
And when the story crosses into the 21st Century and overlaps with Noel's time covering food and booze for the Chicago Tribune, he goes a bit too deep on the history of the craft cocktail movement. My eyes glazed over as he detailed the bartender genealogy linking Manhattan and Chicago cocktail bars.
All told, it's an interesting story that gets bogged down in places by too much information. A solid 3.3 stars.
May 12, 2025
An absolutely engrossing, engaging narrative history of Malort and its resurgence in the past couple decades to be synonymous with Chicago. Josh Noel really knocked this one out of the park. I enjoyed his history of Goose Island's Bourbon County Brand Stout a few years ago, but thought this book was overall stronger and probably more fun, too. There are parallels to PBR and the brand resurgence it was making in the early 2000s and the kinship I felt with that brand at the time. Anyway, highly recommended if you want an offbeat history of a spirit everyone and their brother has an outsized impression and opinion of.
May 10, 2025
This book is a love letter to Chicago and its dive bars. I loved the origin story and a trip down memory lane of the dive bars I used to frequent. I can smell the LnL and remember the invincible feel of the relief of the weekend and being with friends. It’s a great read for anyone who loves history, drinking and Chicago.
June 14, 2025
The story of Malört is comedy, tragedy and bitterness. but always an underdog story. So well written. it makes me want to raise a shot of Malört and be thankful that so few people kept fighting for it to exist in a world that loves to hate it. To CJ and GB and PG and now to CH.
March 26, 2025
A fun history if you like booze, Chicago, or Malort.
February 6, 2025
Hilarious, full of loveable characters and swollen with Chicago pride. Most impressively, it put me in the mood for a shot of Malort.
February 11, 2025
The history of a beverage as bad as Malört has no business being this good. Easy read, somehow difficult to put down. A decent amount of Chicago history mixed it as well.
January 28, 2025
Not just a history book, but a really engaging story with interesting characters that tells a story of both resilience and loyalty. As someone who loves both the product and lore of Malört, this also reads as a love letter to spirit.
August 7, 2025
one of the most entertaining books I've read, probably because I know a lot of the bars and events that are mentioned.
September 6, 2024
Ah Malort. As an almost decade-long resident of Chicago, I have a love hate relationship with Malort. I love it with all of my heart - not as much as my fiance but I digress - but I hate to drink it. But it holds a very special place near, and dear to my heart (see: fiance's love of malort). So of course, the moment I knew this book existed I knew I had to read it.
The first section of this book got a bit boring - focused more on the initial owner of Malort a bit more than I cared for. But once it got to Pat's ownership and the more recent rise of Malort, I was invested. I cannot in good conscience give this book five stars because I know the only reason I enjoyed it as much as I did is because I love Malort. If you don't also love Malort, you'll be bored. But if you're invested in this disgusting and cherished spirit, you'll love it.
Thank you to Chicago Review Press for an ARC, and Tantor Audio for an audio ARC, in exchange for an honest review!
The first section of this book got a bit boring - focused more on the initial owner of Malort a bit more than I cared for. But once it got to Pat's ownership and the more recent rise of Malort, I was invested. I cannot in good conscience give this book five stars because I know the only reason I enjoyed it as much as I did is because I love Malort. If you don't also love Malort, you'll be bored. But if you're invested in this disgusting and cherished spirit, you'll love it.
Thank you to Chicago Review Press for an ARC, and Tantor Audio for an audio ARC, in exchange for an honest review!
June 29, 2025
A fun enough read. You get just a *touch* tired of hearing about the disgusted reactions to Malort, but the book generally doesn't overstay its welcome.
September 9, 2024
Words cannot describe the sick joy that comes from urging someone to try Malört for the first time. As a former Chicago resident, Malört has mystified and disgusted me for years, and now I have a new feeling: appreciation.
I never anticipated a history of a liquor making me emotional but this story has everything: underdogs, humble beginnings, rabid fans, big triumphs, scary near-losses, and of course: hilarious descriptions of the taste of Malört. Reading this felt like taking a bar crawl through the city, with stories from bartenders and patrons who helped this spirit build the cult following it now has.
If you’ve ever wondered why Chicago cares about Malört so much, this book will tell you.
I received a free digital review copy from the publisher.
I never anticipated a history of a liquor making me emotional but this story has everything: underdogs, humble beginnings, rabid fans, big triumphs, scary near-losses, and of course: hilarious descriptions of the taste of Malört. Reading this felt like taking a bar crawl through the city, with stories from bartenders and patrons who helped this spirit build the cult following it now has.
If you’ve ever wondered why Chicago cares about Malört so much, this book will tell you.
I received a free digital review copy from the publisher.
March 5, 2025
This review originally published in Looking For a Good Book. Rated 4.0 of 5
Tell me about a book of a spirit that I'm not familiar with, and I'm interested. Tell me it's roots are of Scandinavian origin and I'm very interested.
Author Josh Noel details the history, rise, fall, and rise again of the world's worst-tasting alcohol - Jeppson's Malört. And that's not entirely hyperbole. One of the great appeals to this spirit is the taste. The shockingly horrible taste by all accounts. A taste so bad that you had to be of a special calibre person to be able to drink it and much of the advertising focused on it: "Are you man enough to drink our two-fisted liquor?" "Can a panty-waist drink Jeppson? ... Not twice."
Malört is essentially a neutral spirit (ala vodka) with some botanicals and aged on wormwood. In fact, "Malört" is the Swedish word for wormwood.
The book dives deep into the recent history of the specific Jeppson's Malört - from Chicago lawyer George Bode, to Pat Gabelick, to Tremaine Atkinson. By necessity, we get some biography of Bode and more of Gabelick. Necessity because it's nearly impossible to separate their personal lives from Malört.
I found the book fascinating, and the social atmosphere surrounding Malört fascinating. It had developed what we might consider a cult following. True fans even had Malört tattoos. Members seemed to be proud to belong to an unofficial club of something that most had never heard of and those that had probably wished they hadn't. Self-deprecation was popular, and all in good fun. Perhaps my favorite moment from the book:
A theology doctoral candidate launched a Malört 5K race in 2014 as a fundraiser for a Chicago food depository. Participants got a shot before the starting whistle and another at the finish line (plus a can of beer). The first-place finisher won a bottle of Jeppson’s Malört. The last-place finisher got two.
The book definitely plays up the connection to Chicago and its Chicago roots. Fortunately, for those of us not from Chicago and who like to find unusual liquor, the current owners have understood the need to branch out some in order to keep sales growing.
Yes, I know where I can buy Malört and it's only 30 minutes away. By the time this review has posted, I'll likely have sampled "the world's worst-tasting liquor." Whether you want to try the drink yourself is up to you, but I would encourage you to at least read the book.
Looking for a good book? Malört: The Redemption of a Revered and Reviled Spirit by Josh Noel is a well written, well researched look at a little-known liquor.
Tell me about a book of a spirit that I'm not familiar with, and I'm interested. Tell me it's roots are of Scandinavian origin and I'm very interested.
Author Josh Noel details the history, rise, fall, and rise again of the world's worst-tasting alcohol - Jeppson's Malört. And that's not entirely hyperbole. One of the great appeals to this spirit is the taste. The shockingly horrible taste by all accounts. A taste so bad that you had to be of a special calibre person to be able to drink it and much of the advertising focused on it: "Are you man enough to drink our two-fisted liquor?" "Can a panty-waist drink Jeppson? ... Not twice."
Malört is essentially a neutral spirit (ala vodka) with some botanicals and aged on wormwood. In fact, "Malört" is the Swedish word for wormwood.
The book dives deep into the recent history of the specific Jeppson's Malört - from Chicago lawyer George Bode, to Pat Gabelick, to Tremaine Atkinson. By necessity, we get some biography of Bode and more of Gabelick. Necessity because it's nearly impossible to separate their personal lives from Malört.
I found the book fascinating, and the social atmosphere surrounding Malört fascinating. It had developed what we might consider a cult following. True fans even had Malört tattoos. Members seemed to be proud to belong to an unofficial club of something that most had never heard of and those that had probably wished they hadn't. Self-deprecation was popular, and all in good fun. Perhaps my favorite moment from the book:
A theology doctoral candidate launched a Malört 5K race in 2014 as a fundraiser for a Chicago food depository. Participants got a shot before the starting whistle and another at the finish line (plus a can of beer). The first-place finisher won a bottle of Jeppson’s Malört. The last-place finisher got two.
The book definitely plays up the connection to Chicago and its Chicago roots. Fortunately, for those of us not from Chicago and who like to find unusual liquor, the current owners have understood the need to branch out some in order to keep sales growing.
Yes, I know where I can buy Malört and it's only 30 minutes away. By the time this review has posted, I'll likely have sampled "the world's worst-tasting liquor." Whether you want to try the drink yourself is up to you, but I would encourage you to at least read the book.
Looking for a good book? Malört: The Redemption of a Revered and Reviled Spirit by Josh Noel is a well written, well researched look at a little-known liquor.
December 29, 2024
The first time I had Malort, I thought it was one of the worst things I'd ever had in my life and that I would never try it again.
The second time I had Malort, I disliked it, but I realized I didn't hate it as much as I thought I did.
A few months ago, I gladly joined in with some friends at a wedding and did multiple shots of Malort while I educated my friends about the history of the drink. I'm now the kind of person that tries to get every out of towner I can to do a Chicago Handshake - take a shot of Malort and chase it with an Old Style beer (successfully got multiple academic colleagues of mine to do this when they came to Chicago for our society's annual meeting). I will have Malort at my wedding. I will never turn down a shot of Malort. Because I love this stupidly bitter and intense drink, I love what it symbolizes, and because its really fucking funny that this drink is as famous/infamous as it is now.
Which is why I'm grateful to Josh Noel for telling the full story of Malort to print with this book. It gives us the vivid history of this drink. How George Brodie bought it from Swedish immigrant Carl Jeppson and tried repeatedly to get it to grow beyond a small community of Eastern European working class folks in local bars. When he passed, he gave it to his secretary/partner Pat Gabelick, who tried to keep the brand alive to honor his memory, and how just as it seemed to be able to fade into the ether, it was brought back from nothing by the gentrifying yuppies of Wicker Park in the late 2000s/early 2010s, who revived the drink because of its uniqueness. That turned it into a viral sensation that turned an asset George's sons didn't even bother contesting for into a multi million dollar empire that is generating record production of Malort the kind George only dreamed of in his own lifetime.
Malort is the story of Chicago. Built by immigrants, sustained through pure power of will, brash, in your face, shaped by new cultural traditions and fixations on specific understandings and nostalgias for pasts that never quite existed. It's fitting that this drink has survived for so long, and Noel shows how many times it almost didn't.
My only critique of this book is Noel's sometimes sweeping representations of the broader cultural shifts that were occurring, that often feel a bit too grandiose at times. But it's otherwise a solid book and I highly recommend for anyone interested in a fascinating story about how this wild drink became a beloved/reviled icon of the city.
The second time I had Malort, I disliked it, but I realized I didn't hate it as much as I thought I did.
A few months ago, I gladly joined in with some friends at a wedding and did multiple shots of Malort while I educated my friends about the history of the drink. I'm now the kind of person that tries to get every out of towner I can to do a Chicago Handshake - take a shot of Malort and chase it with an Old Style beer (successfully got multiple academic colleagues of mine to do this when they came to Chicago for our society's annual meeting). I will have Malort at my wedding. I will never turn down a shot of Malort. Because I love this stupidly bitter and intense drink, I love what it symbolizes, and because its really fucking funny that this drink is as famous/infamous as it is now.
Which is why I'm grateful to Josh Noel for telling the full story of Malort to print with this book. It gives us the vivid history of this drink. How George Brodie bought it from Swedish immigrant Carl Jeppson and tried repeatedly to get it to grow beyond a small community of Eastern European working class folks in local bars. When he passed, he gave it to his secretary/partner Pat Gabelick, who tried to keep the brand alive to honor his memory, and how just as it seemed to be able to fade into the ether, it was brought back from nothing by the gentrifying yuppies of Wicker Park in the late 2000s/early 2010s, who revived the drink because of its uniqueness. That turned it into a viral sensation that turned an asset George's sons didn't even bother contesting for into a multi million dollar empire that is generating record production of Malort the kind George only dreamed of in his own lifetime.
Malort is the story of Chicago. Built by immigrants, sustained through pure power of will, brash, in your face, shaped by new cultural traditions and fixations on specific understandings and nostalgias for pasts that never quite existed. It's fitting that this drink has survived for so long, and Noel shows how many times it almost didn't.
My only critique of this book is Noel's sometimes sweeping representations of the broader cultural shifts that were occurring, that often feel a bit too grandiose at times. But it's otherwise a solid book and I highly recommend for anyone interested in a fascinating story about how this wild drink became a beloved/reviled icon of the city.
August 11, 2024
Originally posted on my blog Nonstop Reader.
Malört: The Redemption of a Revered and Reviled Spirit is an interesting monograph by Josh Noel on the history, uses, and culture surrounding Jeppson's Malört, a Swedish American alcoholic spirit. Due out 3rd Sept 2024 from the Chicago Review Press, it's 264 pages and will be available in paperback and ebook formats.
Taste in cuisine and drink is obviously widely varying, however, Malört is undeniably intensely bitter and has a completely tongue-paralyzing, bizarre flavor at first sip. It's more or less indescribable, however, as the author quips in the introduction: It's been compared to
Nevertheless, the liqueur has persisted and even thrived. It's been available for over a century, and doesn't appear to be going anywhere. This book, pithily written, accessible for non-gastronoms, and humorous, delineates the history, uses, and some of the truly unique folks behind the obsession.
It's a very entertaining read, mostly about George Brode, a lawyer by trade and one-man-crusader for the liqueur which is essentially grain-neutral alcohol (vodka) aged on wormwood, which is an intensely bitter semi-poisonous woody perennial native to Europe/Asia/and North Africa. Along for the ride was his secretary, a Chicago native named Pat Gabelick, who quit 2 weeks after being hired (too much filing) and was convinced to stay by a pay raise and wound up staying 33 years.
The author has a wonderful facility with presenting the history and culture without ever once devolving into dry factual recitations. It's a thoroughly entertaining read.
Five stars. Plucky, funny, and engaging. It would be a great choice for public library acquisition, and a -wonderful- gift for the foodies on the holiday gift list.
Disclosure: I received an ARC at no cost from the author/publisher for review purposes
Malört: The Redemption of a Revered and Reviled Spirit is an interesting monograph by Josh Noel on the history, uses, and culture surrounding Jeppson's Malört, a Swedish American alcoholic spirit. Due out 3rd Sept 2024 from the Chicago Review Press, it's 264 pages and will be available in paperback and ebook formats.
Taste in cuisine and drink is obviously widely varying, however, Malört is undeniably intensely bitter and has a completely tongue-paralyzing, bizarre flavor at first sip. It's more or less indescribable, however, as the author quips in the introduction: It's been compared to
"a forest fire, if the forest was made of earwax", "burnt vinyl car seat condensation", "hairspray and death" and "pencil shavings and heartbreak".
Nevertheless, the liqueur has persisted and even thrived. It's been available for over a century, and doesn't appear to be going anywhere. This book, pithily written, accessible for non-gastronoms, and humorous, delineates the history, uses, and some of the truly unique folks behind the obsession.
It's a very entertaining read, mostly about George Brode, a lawyer by trade and one-man-crusader for the liqueur which is essentially grain-neutral alcohol (vodka) aged on wormwood, which is an intensely bitter semi-poisonous woody perennial native to Europe/Asia/and North Africa. Along for the ride was his secretary, a Chicago native named Pat Gabelick, who quit 2 weeks after being hired (too much filing) and was convinced to stay by a pay raise and wound up staying 33 years.
The author has a wonderful facility with presenting the history and culture without ever once devolving into dry factual recitations. It's a thoroughly entertaining read.
Five stars. Plucky, funny, and engaging. It would be a great choice for public library acquisition, and a -wonderful- gift for the foodies on the holiday gift list.
Disclosure: I received an ARC at no cost from the author/publisher for review purposes
December 13, 2024
The tale of Malört: what's old is new again (or "what's old is new again... once mixologists, hipsters and social media get ahold of it.")
While perhaps not as well-known as other iconic Chicago items, if you've never heard of Malört, it's a Swedish besk, infused with wormwood, an intensely bitter plant that most people find disgusting. It was commonly given out as a free shot to unsuspecting patrons and out-of-towners, for the amusement of bartenders to see what's known as the "Malört Face." In its early history, it was produced and peddled by a Swedish immigrant named Carl Jeppson to other Swedish immigrants. It was always a hard sell to others. George Brode purchased the brand in the 1930s, and never stopped trying to market it until his death in 1999, when his longtime secretary and romantic partner inherited the company. By that time, a liquor that could only be purchased within the Chicago city limits (and a few suburbs) was being produced in Florida, since Chicago no longer had any distilleries.
I really did enjoy this story of Malört's origins, a bit shadowy with age, its unbelievable continuation by the one man who believed in it despite it making absolutely no business sense whatsoever, the old working class drinkers who ensured dive bars kept a bottle around just for them, and the young who took a renewed interest in it. There's even a pretty decent pop punk drinking song about it! Chicagoans love and take pride in even the worst things that are ours, and after the brand was sold to an entrepreneur with the necessary capital, it is currently now made in Chicago again.
Confession: I was birthed in Chicago and I have never had Malört. Based on reactions and descriptions, I felt my palate conjured up the taste well enough that my curiosity was satiated, safely. I even looked it up on Barnivore, thinking I'd have an ethical out, but no dice: it's vegan-friendly. So maybe I need to get a bottle and ruin Christmas for everyone.
While perhaps not as well-known as other iconic Chicago items, if you've never heard of Malört, it's a Swedish besk, infused with wormwood, an intensely bitter plant that most people find disgusting. It was commonly given out as a free shot to unsuspecting patrons and out-of-towners, for the amusement of bartenders to see what's known as the "Malört Face." In its early history, it was produced and peddled by a Swedish immigrant named Carl Jeppson to other Swedish immigrants. It was always a hard sell to others. George Brode purchased the brand in the 1930s, and never stopped trying to market it until his death in 1999, when his longtime secretary and romantic partner inherited the company. By that time, a liquor that could only be purchased within the Chicago city limits (and a few suburbs) was being produced in Florida, since Chicago no longer had any distilleries.
I really did enjoy this story of Malört's origins, a bit shadowy with age, its unbelievable continuation by the one man who believed in it despite it making absolutely no business sense whatsoever, the old working class drinkers who ensured dive bars kept a bottle around just for them, and the young who took a renewed interest in it. There's even a pretty decent pop punk drinking song about it! Chicagoans love and take pride in even the worst things that are ours, and after the brand was sold to an entrepreneur with the necessary capital, it is currently now made in Chicago again.
Confession: I was birthed in Chicago and I have never had Malört. Based on reactions and descriptions, I felt my palate conjured up the taste well enough that my curiosity was satiated, safely. I even looked it up on Barnivore, thinking I'd have an ethical out, but no dice: it's vegan-friendly. So maybe I need to get a bottle and ruin Christmas for everyone.
November 3, 2024
"Malort The Redemption of a Revered and Reviled Spirit" isn't just a love letter to Malort. It's a braid of love letters. It's a love letter to a very unique and polarizing liquor. It's also a love letter to George Brode and his Quixote-est drive to make Carl Jeppson's Malort a staple for the "two fisted drinkers" in the post World War Chicago bar scene. It's a love letter to the relationship between George Brode and Pat Babelick, his young secretary. It's a love letter to Pat Babelick herself who kept Malort alive upon the death of her one true love. It's a love letter to the grizzled grognards of Chicago's dive bars who kept Malort sold through lean times. And a love letter to the next generation of youth, hipsters, and mixologists who picked up the baton and carried it out of obscurity and into a Chicago Cultural Institution. It's a love letter to Chicago and the men and women who live there.
Josh Noel has done an impeccable job of researching the history, the generative forces surrounding that history, and the wider implications of that history.
If you've had the 'pleasure' of having Malort, you probably wonder why anyone ever thought this was a good idea. This book will tell you why. If you've ever gone back for a second helping of Malort, this book will let you know you're in fantastic company. I heartily recommend it. And I need to pick up another bottle!
Josh Noel has done an impeccable job of researching the history, the generative forces surrounding that history, and the wider implications of that history.
If you've had the 'pleasure' of having Malort, you probably wonder why anyone ever thought this was a good idea. This book will tell you why. If you've ever gone back for a second helping of Malort, this book will let you know you're in fantastic company. I heartily recommend it. And I need to pick up another bottle!
Read
April 14, 2025Jeppson’s Malört has had a long and storied history in the city of Chicago, in a state I’ve lived in my entire life. So when I read a fantastic review for a book on the history of Malört, I knew I had to read this one. This book tracks the history of the liquor from the early days of George Brode to current ownership.
Often I find myself having a hard time getting into books like this, but I found myself sucked into the history of a liquor that’s admired and criticized by every person that gives it a try. To have lived in an era where I got to live some of the social media hype of Jeppson’s Malört was always something that fascinated me. I’ve seen videos of friends make the iconic “Malört Face” and seen many a reference throughout Chicagoland. It’s always been a piece of Chicago pride.
If you’re looking for a piece of Chicago history, or just have a morbid curiosity for a specialty liquor described to taste “like a burnt condom filled with gasoline”, I highly recommend this book. And if you’re ever in Chicagoland, I challenge you to give Jeppson’s Malört a try.
Often I find myself having a hard time getting into books like this, but I found myself sucked into the history of a liquor that’s admired and criticized by every person that gives it a try. To have lived in an era where I got to live some of the social media hype of Jeppson’s Malört was always something that fascinated me. I’ve seen videos of friends make the iconic “Malört Face” and seen many a reference throughout Chicagoland. It’s always been a piece of Chicago pride.
If you’re looking for a piece of Chicago history, or just have a morbid curiosity for a specialty liquor described to taste “like a burnt condom filled with gasoline”, I highly recommend this book. And if you’re ever in Chicagoland, I challenge you to give Jeppson’s Malört a try.
August 25, 2024
"Malort never changed to please the masses. The masses changed to understand Malort." Any Chicagoan and even non-Chicagoans have heard of Malort. It is the most hard to describe alcohol out there, and a favorite pastime of Chicagoans is to get unsuspecting victims to try Malort. Josh Noel dives into the history of Malort, its unassuming origins, and how Malort represents Chicago and vice versa. This is a great read for any Chicagoan trying to understand the history of Malort. It gives enough history that one can use any factoid as a fun fact on a night out and surprise locals with new information. I know as I've done it. Even for non-Chicagoans, this book has plenty of interest. You learn about the history of beck and Malort, as alcohol, and their background in Sweden. Noel keeps the book light and interesting, and the whole read is incredibly compelling.
November 21, 2024
You know when someone is telling you a story and it's really not that interesting but you try to listen anyway to be a good person. Then eventually you zone out and start thinking of other things and realize "oh, they're still talking" so you try to refocus on the story?
Yeah this book is like that.
It's not *that* interesting of a story unless you are a hardcore fan of Malört. The beginning of the book was interesting, the middle was muddy, then the last 40 pages really picked up again.
Some of the editing was weird, some details seemed to backtrack and cross over already mentioned dates. It wasn't exactly linear. Also I often read it before bed so I was half asleep anyway.
Yeah. Interesting but not gripping. One of those "you had to be there" stories.
Yeah this book is like that.
It's not *that* interesting of a story unless you are a hardcore fan of Malört. The beginning of the book was interesting, the middle was muddy, then the last 40 pages really picked up again.
Some of the editing was weird, some details seemed to backtrack and cross over already mentioned dates. It wasn't exactly linear. Also I often read it before bed so I was half asleep anyway.
Yeah. Interesting but not gripping. One of those "you had to be there" stories.
September 10, 2024
Despite spending my college years in the Chicago area, it wasn’t until 2019 that I had ever heard of, or tasted, Malort. At the urging of two younger colleagues I had my first and last shot of this vile-tasting spirit. Malort is the Swedish word for wormwood, enough said. This fascinating book traces the rise and fall and resurrection of Jepsen’s Malort as the quintessential Chicago liquor. If you’ve ever tasted it, you’ll want to read this book. If you’ve never tasted it, you’ll hunt it down after reading this book. Fortunately you don’t have to live in Chicago to find it or to “enjoy” a “Chicago Handshake”: a shot of Malort and a can of Old Style.
This is a nonfiction book that kept my interest much like a novel with its plot twists and turns. Very enjoyable and a well-narrated audiobook.
My thanks to the author, publisher, producer, and #NetGalley for access to the #Malort audiobook for review purposes. It is available now.
This is a nonfiction book that kept my interest much like a novel with its plot twists and turns. Very enjoyable and a well-narrated audiobook.
My thanks to the author, publisher, producer, and #NetGalley for access to the #Malort audiobook for review purposes. It is available now.
September 15, 2024
Whether you hail from a position of devout devotion or arched-eyebrow irony, if you have spent a hunk of time in Chicago, you know what a unique and iconic role Malört plays in our city's lore. Author Josh Noel has done an impressive dive into the history of Chicago's favorite/least favorite liquor, and with masterful storytelling skill, he turns a fascinating tale into a true page turner. If I may quote from the guy whose winning essay got him a free Malört tattoo, "We're shockingly bitter but bright and light underneath. Just like Malört. That's why I want to wear Malört on me forever. To remember who I am and where I'm from."
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