Chicago Handshake
After a lifetime of never hearing the term, the name for the boozy, Windy City-inspired concoction keeps coming to my attention. What in the name of Baader-Meinhof is going on?
We’re all susceptible to the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon.
This tendency can show up in innumerable ways, whether it’s a car make and model, a rock ‘n’ roll singer or the number 67—and, yes, there will be more on 67 later.
For now, though, let’s circle back to this Baader-Meinhof thing, more commonly known as the frequency illusion. It’s where you learn about something—I like to extend this to when you buy something, too—and then suddenly start seeing it pop up all over the place.
In my case, the Hyundai Tucson hybrid vehicle comes to mind when reflecting on this topic. We bought one 2 ½ years ago—longtime readers might recall my sharing that classic car-buying saga at the time—and ever since, it feels like I see them way more than I used to.
Now, this is partly just math: though I work mostly from home, I’ve been driving for much longer stretches since starting my job in DeKalb (58 miles away!) 20 months ago. Of course, I’m seeing a lot more of all vehicles lately. But another element, I realize, is that the Tucson is simply more on my radar now that I own one.
With other stuff, though, I am confident that it’s not a frequency illusion, but a frequency reality. Recent case in point: Chicago Handshake.
I’ve been in and around Chicago for nearly 40 years and until my pal (and author and former longtime Chicago Tribune reporter) Ted Gregory uttered the phrase to me less than two months ago, I’d never come across it. It’s the name of Ted’s soon-to-be-published novel, but until his agent suggested it to him, Ted had never heard of a Chicago Handshake, either.

For those still in the dark on its meaning, let’s shatter the suspense: a Chicago Handshake is an alcoholic concoction consisting of an Old Style tall boy plus a shot of Malört.1
At my request, Ted e-mailed me Chicago Handshake on October 28th. The boozy beverage shows up in a few key passages of his page-turner set in the Windy City. A week later, I texted him, “Exactly halfway…and really enjoying this! High caliber!”
Some 13 hours later, my next missive to him was a video clip of a scene I’d just watched on my family’s all-time favorite television show, Chicago Fire.2 Here it is:
As you might imagine (and as I expected), Ted said he’d pass along the clip to his agent, noting that he’d “get a kick out of it.” Later, Ted added that he hoped the scene—and my coming across it—was “some kind of serendipitous momentum thing.”
Well, if so, that mo’ picked up steam this week. On Wednesday morning, Ted texted: “Got off the Metra last night and this sign greeted me outside a place called Durty Nellie’s.” [Below is the photo he shared.]
And, now—can you believe it?—here’s this Substack column on the whole thing!
With this column, I am confident that I’m expanding most folks’ alcohol-related vernacular. I asked about 20 friends if they’d ever heard of Chicago Handshake and fully three-quarters hadn’t, while the others’ awareness ranged from spot-on accuracy to hazy in-the-ballpark estimations.
One, echoing my initial thought on hearing the term, quipped: “It sounds like a dirty joke.”
As I mentioned earlier, this is but one of countless examples of how something—a concept, a car, a cultural flash-in-the-pan, whatever—can elude our awareness for a good while, only to emerge with a striking persistence and pervasiveness.
What’s been your experience with this phenomenon? Let me know in the comments. But, first, take this poll:
About That “67” Earlier
There’s a 6/7 thing going ‘round in the popular culture. Or maybe it’s 6-7. Even 67 will work?
I really don’t know the details…and I’m pretty much committed to staying in the dark. But I feel compelled to mention it because a few nights ago, I posted my Spotify “age” on Facebook, with this note:
“I am an old musical soul [10 years older than my actual soul].”
My note immediately prompted the whole 67 (or 6-7?) deal with some of my friends, which goes to show you that even when I wasn’t thinking of it, others were apparently on red alert for it.
Frequency illusion, at least for them, strikes again.
(I just snuck a peek at the Wikipedia entry for 67…it used phrases like “annoying” and “brain rot,” which feels about right.)3
And Finally, Something `Different’
A pet peeve to get off my chest: Can we just be done with a certain needless, extraneous, absolutely superfluous word included in graphics during athletic contests that tout the variety of teammates who are in a certain category?
To what do I allude in such mock-overwrought, ironically expressed prose? Why, the deadwood “different,” of course. Take this graphic—please!—about Pittsburgh Steelers quarterback Aaron Rodgers during an October 26th game against the Green Bay Packers.
We know that each wide receiver is different, thank you. The moment a QB completes passes to “seven distinctive and two cloned receivers”—now that’s something different.
Cantankerous curmudgeonly rant is hereby concluded.
Solo vs. This ‘n’ That
Some weeks, The Inside Edge brings you a solo topic. Other weeks, it’s “this ‘n’ that”—two to four items being the typical range of other tidbits that round out the effort. This week, I felt Chicago Handshake at around 500 words wasn’t quite enough to stand on its own.
So far, including this rather self-conscious navel-gazing blurb, we’re at four items overall. As an Inveterate Counter of Stuff in General, these ruminations prompted me to see how 2025 shakes out on the Solo vs. This ‘n’ That front.
Here’s the tally, through this week:
Solo Columns: 28
This ‘n’ That Columns: 23
My approach has gone in spurts: 16 of my first 22 columns of 2025 were single-topic pieces. Then, starting in June, I embarked on a This ‘n’ That spree. Eleven of my next 13 columns fell in that category. This was the Era of 50 Deliberate Thoughts and 50 Additional Deliberate Thoughts*.
Since then, The Inside Edge has skewed toward solo treatment by a 10-to-6 margin. All of which is preface to one final poll question:
For a real deep dive into dives, gin mills and bars with their approaches to the Chicago Handshake, check out this column at ChicagoRex.com.
Chicago Fire is a really good show, now in its 14th season. My wife has worked on it for eight years, so, sure, that might have a wee bit of influence on our affection for it.
Speaking of Wikipedia, I made my annual donation to it a few weeks ago. If you’ve not already gotten on the Wikipedia bus, I encourage you to consider doing so as well.
Why? Well, there’s an Inside Edge column for that: from over two years ago, Why I Love Wikipedia.






Very funny you bring up Mallort- I had never come across it when I was living there, but somehow I read that Esquire article from last summer, and about two months ago, I saw it in the bar of a place down here (The Flying Pierogi!) and tried it for the first time. I was fascinated by it, and it was featured as a 'feat of strength' for our annual Festivus party. Here's where this comes full circle-- I still have a few cans of Old Style from the case I naturally picked up last time I was in town, and had it at the ready as a proper chaser once you go through the multiple stages of Mallort (it's not that bad- oh gosh- that aftertaste is dreadful- wait-- there's a second aftertaste that's even worse?!?! what in the world does that? Mallort. That's what). So this past weekend, I was unwittingly ready to give Chicago Handshakes for Festivus. And now I know it's a thing because of you. Thanks for the long distance handshake!
First time I’ve ever heard this term - it has to be a relatively recent phenomenon. But I’m glad to know you can still get Old Style in Chicago; it was looking like it was on its way out for a while.