A Chicago Tradition
So a couple months back, we went out to a fancy bar for 
tuberose's birthday (yes I've been meaning to write this post since early August, whatever.) Among the guests was someone who had lost a bet and, consequently, was required to drink some Malort, with someone else taking a photograph of her reaction as proof that this had occurred.
Being a good sport and not one to renege on a bet, she did, and then the rest of us who had never experienced Malort also tried it. That included me. I regret this choice.
I have literally never tasted something so foul in my life. It tastes roughly like I would imagine a liquor distilled from dead skunk blended with ancient and well-used gym shoes might taste. It is a taste rather like burnt rubber smells, and the worst thing is that it lingers. I drank an entire glass of water, and that did nothing to alleviate the taste.
hyaenid has a pretty funny photo of my face a few seconds after I drank it. It's absolutely awful.
Malort may be a Chicago tradition, but if you've got to try just one such tradition while you're in Chicago, I recommend Lou Malnati's deep dish or a game at Wrigley instead. Failing that, get a glass of Goose Island's Green Line beer.
(Yes, it was necessary to memorialize this event in case I am ever tempted to repeat it.)
I've posted this at http://lassarina.dreamwidth.org/1098068.html and you may comment there or here. On Dreamwidth, this entry has
comments.
tuberose's birthday (yes I've been meaning to write this post since early August, whatever.) Among the guests was someone who had lost a bet and, consequently, was required to drink some Malort, with someone else taking a photograph of her reaction as proof that this had occurred.
Being a good sport and not one to renege on a bet, she did, and then the rest of us who had never experienced Malort also tried it. That included me. I regret this choice.
I have literally never tasted something so foul in my life. It tastes roughly like I would imagine a liquor distilled from dead skunk blended with ancient and well-used gym shoes might taste. It is a taste rather like burnt rubber smells, and the worst thing is that it lingers. I drank an entire glass of water, and that did nothing to alleviate the taste.
hyaenid has a pretty funny photo of my face a few seconds after I drank it. It's absolutely awful.
Malort may be a Chicago tradition, but if you've got to try just one such tradition while you're in Chicago, I recommend Lou Malnati's deep dish or a game at Wrigley instead. Failing that, get a glass of Goose Island's Green Line beer.
(Yes, it was necessary to memorialize this event in case I am ever tempted to repeat it.)
I've posted this at http://lassarina.dreamwidth.org/1098068.html and you may comment there or here. On Dreamwidth, this entry has
comments.