In Josh Noel’s new book, Malört: The Redemption of a Revered & Reviled Spirit, the drink is first introduced as a punchline. If you haven’t heard of Malört, it’s a bitter liquor with a hint of gasoline and an overall undercurrent of acetone. I remember an early college encounter with the liquor, where its taste produced the punchline Noel references—“Malört face.” It’s a pained expression post-Malört where you fear that you’ve made a significant mistake. Noel’s book is the beverage’s biography, pulling from its actual historic background in combination with anecdotal events (stories of drunken fun, or horror) produced by Malört.
Noel first frames the enigmatic drink through an interaction with a rideshare driver, who states that his first legal drink was a shot of it. The driver has become an evangelist of sorts since. Noel writes: “He wants them to discover it as he did. For better, for worse.” Through anecdotes like these, the author sets the contemporary world against the liquor’s 1980s origins. Noel uses Malort as a common thread throughout the liquor’s history of nearly a decade. Through his retelling of the liquor’s history, Noel occasionally leans into his craft as a beer writer for The Chicago Tribune, at times sounding like a haute sommelier. But his writing also makes it clear that Malört is anything but swanky—its manufacturers have never represented it as something like Johnnie Walker Blue Label. Despite its unassuming packaging, word of mouth precedes it— evidenced by interactions like Noel and the rideshare driver. When Noel is inspired to take his first shot of Malört, he writes that its taste is “equal parts strange and interesting,” a phrase applicable to the history surrounding it.
Malört: The Redemption of a Revered & Reviled Spirit gives a comprehensive history of the titular liquor. The text traces the career of legal secretary Pat Gabelick, who pioneered the liquor from her employing attorney’s hobby to what it is today. Gabelick maneuvered the business cannily, despite being a woman in the indubitably male alcohol industry. Throughout her stewardship, Gabelic changed the brand that once advertised for itself by inquiring: “Are you man enough to drink our two-fisted liquor?” Noel’s writing describes Gabelick experiencing many trials throughout her brand caretaking, identifying many points where she wondered whether preserving Malört past her employer’s death was worthwhile any longer. While Gabelick did not see a return on her dedication until the age of seventy-five, she is the real figurehead of Malört in what is a traditionally masculine landscape.
Today, the contemporary vibe surrounding Malört is Chicago tourism and niche alcohol subreddits. Noel’s book cites the internet as a key factor in the liquor’s second act, specifically referencing social media as its savior. Noel soulfully retells the story of a Lakeview aviation technician’s random encounter with Malört— not unlike the rideshare driver’s happenstance alcohol cherry moment – that inspired him to share it with everyone around him. The text reads: “He discovered Jeppson’s Malört one day after work and, in true Malört fashion, by mistake… he grabbed his phone and snapped a photo of the bottle to show everyone at work the next day. It felt like he stumbled onto an absurd secret. He couldn’t wait to share.” And share this man did, coining the term “Malört face” (Chicagoans and tourists with expressions of pain) and cataloging it on an abandoned but still live Flickr account. Noel’s retelling of events is similar to Netflix’s oft-overlooked millennial Wicker Park masterpiece Easy, his description of the liquor’s viral moment very similar to the narratives in the character drama. Citing this Flickr account renewing interest in the Malort brand, Noel definitively deems the drink “Chicago’s coolest inside joke.”
Malört is probably available at whatever Chicago bar you thought of when I first referenced it. The liquor is more popular than ever, acting as both a rite of passage for incoming transplants (if they can’t handle it, they can go back) and a central piece of the city’s lore for those that have lived there for ages. I’m surprised that Malört hasn’t made an appearance in the nouveau public face of Chicago: The Bear, but maybe it’s better this way. If you haven’t tried it yet, you could try one of the original recipes that Noel details in the work—2 oz. of the liquor over ice with club soda in a highball glass. It’s kinder than a shot, but you’ll still get the original taste. And you’ll certainly remember it.
NONFICTION
Malört: The Redemption of a Revered & Reviled Spirit
By Josh Noel
Chicago Review Press
Published September 3, 2024
