Kotas Reviews Jeppson's Malort

Recently I journeyed south to meet up with some friends and attend a public event where some of those newfangled electronic sports were occurring. At this gathering of enthusiasts, one fellow hailed from the Frozen North of Chicago. From the icy wastes he brought in his pack two items native to his land: a snack food to be looked at later, and a bottle of a substance spoken of only in back rooms at a hushed whisper. Ladies and Gentlemen, today we explore the world of Jeppson's Malort.

Two-Fisted Terror!

Jeppson's Malort is a booze with a long and storied history. As noted on the label this liqueur is of Swedish origin. It seems the Swedes were known for their use of wormwood, which is a primary ingredient in this Malort. In fact, Malort is the Swedish word for wormwood. But I digress. The herbal infusion of wormwood is called besk, and was developed as a remedy for parasitic stomach worms. Somehow, it found its way to Chicago, where a man named Carl Jeppson started bottling his own recipe and selling it out of a suitcase. The local legend says that Jeppson, tobacconist and constant cigar smoker, had his taste buds scorched from his excessive tobacco smoking, and this Malort was one of the few flavors he could reliably taste. Further, it is one of the very few alcoholic beverages to be sold during Prohibition as medicinal liquor, because Jeppson would give a sample to law enforcement officers when stopped, and with a sour look on their face, they would concur that no one in their right mind would drink this concoction for recreational purposes. If that doesn't set your mouth to watering, what can, am I right? Let's see what it looks like.

Destiny, thy path awaits!

It's got a light color for a liqueur, and isn't nearly as syrupy as many of them are. In the glass it looks pale and light, almost as if it were to be refreshing. Let me tell you something, this drink LIES. The smell is that of facial astringent cleaner with a strong punch of what I guess is wormwood, very herbal and off putting. To describe the flavor, I would like to quote a friend of mine: "It tastes like regret." He's not wrong, you know. The initial flavor assault is like your yard clippings staged a revolt and forced themselves down your craw. Bracing, but actually something you can get used to. I mean, I've drunk more than my fair share of Strega over the years and while I wouldn't call it good, I can see how people might somehow enjoy it. No, what really reaches down your throat and pulls hard is the after taste. My GOD it is bitter, and tastes like an old shoe smells and it LINGERS like the hint of oppression in a prison cell. Sweat and must and exhaustion and tears, mixed with the lingering knowledge that yours is a very small place in the universe, arrayed against cosmic forces you simply do not understand nor can comprehend in their uncaring magnificence. The really weird thing? The more I drink it, the more I WANT to drink it, so I can somehow come to understand this heaving terror in a bottle. My body is repulsed, but my brain forces it forward ever ONWARD to more blasphemous and terrible vistas of knowledge. I can't explain it at all, but that's what it is. 

On the FACE Rating System, it gets 4 Frowny Faces. It is a fucking punch in the goddamn mouth of a drink, bold, brash, disdainful of you and your family, and will stay with your until you've long since forgotten why your mouth tastes like the bottom of a movie theater. As the back of the bottle says "Jeppson Malort has the aroma and full-bodied flavor of an unusual botanical. It’s [sic] bitter taste is savored by two-fisted drinkers." That's certainly one way to put it, I guess. I will say, though, it helps with stomach problems. I can see why it would be an effective treatment for stomach worms. You'll scare them to death.