Jeppson’s Malört is controversial.
The Chicago-founded brand of liqueur known for its bitter taste and wormwood flavoring is often described in myriad distinct ways — not always in a positive light. Amid my research for this story, a friend described the drink as “tasting like ashtray juice.” One bartender told me his favorite description is “like a grapefruit that’s been left in a men’s locker room for a couple of days.”
Needless to say, Malört is an acquired taste — one that many never acquire. But people who like the liqueur don’t just like it. They love it.
For the past several years, South Nashville dive bar Rosie’s Twin Kegs has been putting its own bizarre twist on the polarizing drink. Bartenders have been whipping up their own concoctions using Malört — ranging from savory flavors like beef ramen, chicken ramen, ranch dressing and Kraft macaroni-and-cheese to sweeter offerings like chocolate Nesquik, Peeps, root beer, matcha and Earl Grey tea.
While these might sound repulsive to some, the outlandish flavors — posted on Rosie’s Instagram account (@rosiestwinkegs) — have gained traction on social media. Rosie’s bartender Maxwell Wheeler tells the Scene the flavors usually sell out quickly, sometimes in just one night.
“If they’re especially disgusting, they may last a bit longer, like the KFC Malörts did,” Wheeler says, referencing what taste testers found to be one of Rosie’s most revolting flavor mixtures.
“I would say cursed, heavily reviled,” Wheeler says of the Malört blend made from jelly beans in the flavors of Kentucky Fried Chicken, gravy and corn.
This is how Rosie’s makes many of the Malört combinations — by letting candies dissolve in the liqueur. Some of the more savory fusions are made by pouring in powdered flavor packets. Wheeler says he wants to experiment with new flavor methods, like adding habanero peppers and other fresh produce.
Back in March, Rosie’s hosted a “Malört Madness” bracket, with the Lemonhead candy flavor coming out on top. Wheeler strongly disagrees, saying “Malört-Lört” (Malört flavored with Malört candy) was his favorite.
For decades, Malört was a regional favorite adored almost solely by Chicagoans who embraced the liqueur as a part of the city’s history and culture. But as its production has expanded and its internet popularity soars, Malört is entering a renaissance. Wheeler says he thinks this comes as a part of larger trends in the service industry.
“I think that the bar community especially was so on Fernet and Chartreuse for so long, and then Chartreuse became harder to get, and people have kind of grown out of Fernet, and so this is really just kind of filling that hole in the culture,” he says. “And being that it’s something new, and I think so ubiquitously loved within the culture, even if you hate it, you love that it’s a part of the culture now. I think there’s just a lot of excitement around it.”
And while some say Malört tastes like a tire fire smells (a description given to me by the Scene’s editor-in-chief), the Rosie’s staff gives the liquor plenty of love. Bartender Morgan Scrivner tells the Scene he loves Malört so dearly that he kept track of how many shots of the drink he took last year. That number: 1,256, he tells the Scene from behind the bar while wearing a Malört T-shirt.
Whether you’re intrigued or disgusted, Rosie’s says they’re not stopping the diabolical mixtures anytime soon.
“We will undoubtedly continue to craft the most cursed, shameful Malörts that we can come up with,” Wheeler says.
Plus, quenching our thirst for limoncello, issuing our first Malört Repört and sampling Tío Fun’s soft-serve margaritas
