One Furr's Trash...

Malört. Just the way it rolls off the tongue is an affront to the senses. And that is without tasting it.

For the uninitiated, Malört, specifically Jeppson’s Malört, is a wormwood-based liqueur, proudly produced in Chicago since the 1930’s. It has since become synonymous with the city, even seen as a rite of passage among its residents. It is amazingly bitter, putting the likes of Campari to shame, and the flavor lingers long after you take the shot. In short, unless you love bitter liqueurs or the smell of spoiled rubbing alcohol, you probably won’t care for it. It is growing in popularity these days, mostly as a ‘dare’ shot, but there are a select few that genuinely enjoy it.

I am one of those misguided souls.

Slightly Furry began its love affair with Malört very early on. The two original founders, Martini and Sp0rk, are Chicago boys and grew up indoctrinated, while I was introduced to it much later in life. What started as a negative–a casual ‘threat’ amongst the staff and bar regulars–became curiosity, and then legitimate demand. The first bottle of Malört made its way into the taproom a few months after we opened–before almost any other hard alcohol–and it has not left since. Why? Well, the shock aspect has something to do with it. The other reason is that we did something with it that many thought not possible: we made a cocktail with it that tastes good. Not just to the Malört lover, but to damn near everyone.

‘It can’t be done’, was the common response when the idea of making a “good” cocktail came up. Maybe “good” for a Malört cocktail, but that baggage already limits the appeal. I decided to take up the challenge, regardless. A bottle of Malört, a few cans of each cider we had at the time, and some assorted mixers came home with me for the weekend to play with. 

They were right. Everything was awful, or trying to cover up awful.

I had almost given up and just started playing with Malört and various mixers, just to find something that I could work with. I found that lemon juice interacted with it in an interesting way, the sharp, sourness took the edge off. It still tasted bad, just a sour version of bad, but some hints of other flavors came through. Grapefruit? Yes, like eating a grapefruit, but not peeling it first. I went back to our ciders to try to find something that worked.

I immediately disregarded Witches’ Tree and Pineapp-OWL; adding more fruit to this would muddy it all. That left me with Leg Up! and Cinnabear. Leg Up! in itself was already a bit tart, and adding it to the mixture did nothing. Then I tried Cinnabear, and I knew right away that something was there. The brown sugar that Cinnabear provides better than anything else was strong enough to stand up to the extreme bitter and sour, without outright covering the flavor. Coming out of that weekend, I had a potential. It needed some refinement, but I had exhausted my ingredients. I would have to continue at work next week.

I came in a few hours ahead of my shift to keep working. While lemon juice worked, I found that lime juice worked so much better (still not entirely sure why). I made a few different versions with different ratios before settling on the one I did. The last thing that was missing was an aromatic. At the moment, it just smelled like Cinnabear, strong and sweet, making the drinker completely unaware of the true flavor they were about to get. A few dashes of Angostura bitters solved that, along with adding an interesting color.

I made a few and took it around to the staff. Then a few hours later to a few of the regulars. The response was pretty close to the same ‘I hate Malört, but I like this!’. Good enough for me to give it a sign on the bar and a week in the spotlight. All it needed was a name. As a nod to Malört‘s reputation as a garbage spirit and in keeping with the furry motif, the Trash Panda was born. A week became a month and by the end of the month, I pulled the numbers. Forty. In a month. Those were crazy sales numbers at the time, especially for a Malört-based drink. We had a hit.

These days, you will find the Trash Panda as a mainstay on our menu. You’ll even find it in the slushie machine (tastes like boozy apple sauce!). It has been batched out on tap, made fresh, and even picked up a doubled version: the Trashed Panda. It has gained a bit of a following, having recently been featured in The Stranger. It has even gotten the attention of CH Distillers, the people responsible for Jeppson’s Malört.

What is next? Who knows, but after hundreds of Trash Panda’s, I am happy with the success it has seen.