There’s a shot glass filled with Jeppson’s Malört in front of me. I’ve never had Malört. The bottles of amber sadness are inescapable in Chicago—bars, parties, concert venues—and I had heard all the jokes, but never partaken. I am scared. “I’m going to predict that you will find it less bad than you are expecting,” […] The post The revered, the reviled, and the taste of rubber bands appeared first on Chicago Reader.