John Hodgman, celebrated comedian and writer, is known for his witty observations and insightful humor. While not a Chicago native, Hodgman has demonstrated a surprising affinity for one of the city’s most peculiar and polarizing icons: Jeppson’s Malort. This notoriously bitter liqueur, often described with colorful analogies, became a topic of amusement and fascination when Hodgman shared his unique perspective on the “WTF with Marc Maron” podcast. His comedic analysis of Malort not only highlights the drink’s unusual character but also cleverly connects it to broader cultural trends, specifically what he playfully terms “loathsome hipsterdom.”
During his engaging conversation with Marc Maron, Hodgman, with his signature comedic timing, dissected the essence of Malort. He ventured beyond simple taste descriptions, delving into the spirit’s mystique and cultural placement. Hodgman characterized Malort as akin to “aquavit,” but quickly pivoted to a more evocative and humorous description: “flavored vodka basically, but flavored with darkness and pain.” This sets the stage for understanding Malort not just as a drink, but as an experience, something that transcends mere flavor profiles.
Expanding on its enigmatic nature, Hodgman jokingly speculated on Malort’s distribution, imagining a “secret malort tunnel” ensuring its exclusive availability in Chicago, despite being produced in Florida. This playful exaggeration underscores the almost mythical status Malort holds within Chicago culture. For those unfamiliar, he clarified the base of Malort, explaining, “It’s like aquavit grain neutral spirits that are flavored with different botanicals, like gin.” However, he pinpointed the crucial distinction: “The botanicals that it’s flavored with are wormwood and other bitter, sort of medicinal-type of botanicals. And thus, it tastes like pencil shavings and heartbreak.” This quote encapsulates the widely acknowledged and often humorously lamented flavor of Malort, transforming the tasting experience into a comedic, albeit slightly painful, rite of passage.
Hodgman’s appreciation for Malort extends beyond its challenging taste. He openly admitted, “I am a fan of esoteric things. I’m a fan and always been been of the weird and the out of the way and the regional and the undiscovered and the secret history-type stuff.” This inclination towards the unconventional is a recurring theme in his comedic work, and Malort, with its strong regional identity and acquired taste, fits perfectly into this fascination. When Maron probed this fascination, questioning if it bordered on “loathsome hipsterism,” Hodgman cleverly embraced and redefined the term.
He described “loathsome hipsterism” as “just the pursuit of esoteric knowledge for status,” further illustrating it with examples like knowing obscure bands or exclusive locations. Crucially, Hodgman distinguished his own interest from this status-seeking behavior. “I call it loathsome hipsterism because of the loathing that I have for it that’s not how I feel about these things. I just am fascinated with weird, forgotten stuff. My impulse is to share it, because I want everyone to know about it.” This reveals a key element of Hodgman’s comedic persona: a genuine curiosity about the unusual coupled with a desire to share these discoveries, even if they are as initially off-putting as Malort. His desire to share the Malort experience, wanting “everyone in the audience to drink this malort…because I want everyone to experience the pain together,” transforms the act into a communal, almost comedic, bonding ritual.
Adding another layer to the Malort narrative, the article references Deadspin writer Drew Magary’s intrigued reaction to a reader’s vivid description of Malort. The comparison to “the 2 girls 1 cup of alcohol” and the description of the delayed, lingering unpleasantness further cement Malort’s infamy. Magary’s humorous demand to experience the “split second before the agony kicks in” and his suggestion to incorporate Malort into fraternity hazing rituals underscore the drink’s reputation as a uniquely awful, yet strangely compelling, experience.
In conclusion, John Hodgman’s comedic exploration of Malort goes beyond a simple review of a beverage. Through his witty observations and insightful connections to “loathsome hipsterism,” he elevates Malort to a symbol of esoteric fascination and shared, slightly masochistic, experience. His perspective, delivered with comedic flair on the “WTF Podcast,” provides a hilarious and culturally relevant lens through which to appreciate, or at least understand, the enduring, peculiar appeal of Chicago’s Jeppson’s Malort.
