Malt is like a sweet version of umami, the so-called fifth flavor that pops up in ingredients like soy, mushrooms and monosodium glutamate. Just as umami makes savory flavors come alive, malt does the same for sweet. It’s an old-fashioned flavor, a bit tough to describe, but a little nutty, buttery, even earthy.

And it can divide a crowd. I am a malt lover, but plenty of people aren’t. I have fond memories of sipping malteds at diners and the occasional Friendly’s, first as a childhood treat, later as a teenager’s late-night fortification.

Malted milk dates from the late 19th century. James and William Horlick, London-born brothers who had moved to the Midwest, sold it as a dietary supplement for infants and the elderly (a suspect claim, unless all you are looking for are calories). You’ll still find malteds at diners and malted-milk powder on the shelves of grocery stores in the form of Carnation Malted Milk and Ovaltine, but malt is no longer the cultural touchstone it was.