What do you think?
Rate this book
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
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 88 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.
April 9, 2026
Genuinely a fascinating read about the worst most beloved liquor in Chicago history
March 21, 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.
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.
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
July 9, 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 10, 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.
October 16, 2026
Here’s to the misfits. The renegades. The “acquired tastes.” May your jagged edges find a home that fits like Chicago fits Malört.
Much of this book made me think of The Room: both the film and the drink were passion projects of one eccentric guy (Malört guy George Brode was a Northwestern alum btw) that spiraled into public consciousness by virtue of how bafflingly terrible they were, so bad that they became objects of affection and even love.
I kept asking myself, what draws people to these things that are so-bad-they’re-good? I think part of it is that we live in a world where nearly all the roughness has been sanded down to nothing. So much of the content we consume, the clothes we wear, and even the food we eat is algorithmically curated and focus tested down to the most perfectly smooth, inoffensive version of itself that when we come across something that is manifestly terrible but bears the unmistakable mark of having been lovingly made by human hands, it feels refreshing. No soulless corporation would ever sign off on Malört; it is this fact that gives it its soul. It doesn’t matter if it tastes like Satan’s piss. Would you rather be one of the people from Wall-E? What matters is that the tapestry of human life still has texture. Everything is a win when the goal is to experience.
Much of this book made me think of The Room: both the film and the drink were passion projects of one eccentric guy (Malört guy George Brode was a Northwestern alum btw) that spiraled into public consciousness by virtue of how bafflingly terrible they were, so bad that they became objects of affection and even love.
I kept asking myself, what draws people to these things that are so-bad-they’re-good? I think part of it is that we live in a world where nearly all the roughness has been sanded down to nothing. So much of the content we consume, the clothes we wear, and even the food we eat is algorithmically curated and focus tested down to the most perfectly smooth, inoffensive version of itself that when we come across something that is manifestly terrible but bears the unmistakable mark of having been lovingly made by human hands, it feels refreshing. No soulless corporation would ever sign off on Malört; it is this fact that gives it its soul. It doesn’t matter if it tastes like Satan’s piss. Would you rather be one of the people from Wall-E? What matters is that the tapestry of human life still has texture. Everything is a win when the goal is to experience.
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.
December 25, 2025
A thoroughly enjoyable, better-than-it-has-any-right-to-be chronicle of the history of Malort, that will feel right at home for anyone who spent the 2010's developing a taste for the preeminent bitter spirit. I received it as a gift and thought it would sit on my shelf for a decade before I put it in a little free library, but eventually decided to read the first chapter, and wound up settling into the cozy tale of Pat Gabelick and her boys. Having since moved out of Chicago, I stopped reading multiple times to look up where I could find myself a bottle in my new city, pleased to find that it was available. Chicago drinkers will appreciate this book.
April 28, 2026
I appreciated the research that went into this and the inclusion of photographs from personal archives. It was a fun read for book club. However, the book says a theology doctoral candidate started the Malört 5K when it was actually his wife, a kindergarten teacher. Other than that, I enjoyed this a lot more than I’ve ever enjoyed a shot of Malört!
October 22, 2026
I didn't know exactly what to expect from this book, but it was far more fascinating than I thought. As a lover of Malort, I was curious about its origins and how it became popular. The stars definitely had to align for Malort to be with us today and I glad it is and I am glad someone bothered to tell the story.
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.
May 5, 2026
that was a wild ride lol
May 29, 2026
5 ⭐️. Fascinating history of Chicago’s oldest liquor, and broader drinking revolution of the 80s-2000s. Well worth the read. I had (only) two shots of Malort while reading it, which adds +0.5 stars.
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 10, 2026
reading the book was more fun than taking a shot of Malort
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.
September 11, 2026
Great book about Malort, its history, and why it is so SPECIAL to anyone from Chicago.
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 5, 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.
August 16, 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.
April 8, 2026
Really enjoyed learning the history of Malort and its ownership. The rise of the drink alongside the history of the Chicago bar scene in the 2010s was really nostalgic for me. Missing Bar Deville and Violet Hour even more now.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 88 reviews