I was first forced to drink Malort as the last shot of the night at my bachelor party at The Sovereign. It tasted, let us not beat around the bush, like ass. But maybe, I thought, my taste buds were off from the cigars, and it has that cute little Chicago flag-shield on the label, and it’s made in Chicago (well, in Florida, but for Chicago), and the little pamphlet the bartender handed me (yes, there’s a booklet) challenged my manhood: “Most first-time drinkers of Jeppson Malort reject our liquor. Its strong, sharp taste is not for everyone. Our liquor is rugged and unrelenting (even brutal) to the palate. During almost 70 years of American distribution, we found only 1 out of 49 men will drink Jeppson Malort after the first ‘shock-glass.'”
So, I bought a bottle. And we had a little tasting.
Kate: “Nail polish remover. It’s a little sweet, you know like they add that scent to nail polish remover.”
Shaun: “Bug spray, with Robitussin. Because bug spray on its own would probably be a little thin, so they mix in the Robitussin to thicken it up.”
Fuzzy: “Varnish remover. With herbs.”
Erica: “Why did you make me drink that!? I can still taste it!” (From the pamphlet: “It is not possible to forget our two-fisted liquor. The taste just lingers and lasts – seemingly forever.”)
* It clearly says “Malört” right on the bottle, but everyone spells it “Mallort”. Probably, after one shot they see double Ls.